Page 13 of The Ghost of Christmas Present

“Don’t tempt me.”

“But I want to tempt you. I want you to act out that delicious story you told me.” Her insides pulsed once, a hot rush of liquid heat escaping her center. “About Mortimer, who buried his mouth over my womanhood and feasted. About how he explored every inch... Only we need a chapter two, because you never let Louisa do any exploring, and you have such a big, thick cock. I want to know what that feels like in my mouth. I want to know what that feels like when you’re in me, balls deep.”

Mortimer had been kissing her neck as she whispered sweet, dirty nothing in his ear, but the kissing stopped abruptly, and she found herself lifted as if she weighed no more than a pillow. Instead of straddling his lap, now, she was under him, his weight pressing down on her like a heated blanket as his mouth found hers and his hips moved restlessly between her thighs.

But not for long. His lips trailed down her neck, and the green silky tank top and matching overshirt she’d worn fell as invisible hands gently tugged them open, then down, revealing soft, heavy breasts in a black bra.

Mortimer gasped and left her a necklace of kisses. “You forgot to say how her otherworldly lover feasted on all of her. Such glorious breasts. And so sensitive.” His thumbs found her nipples, stroking lightly.

Louisa arched. Other men rushed to the finish line, and at this moment, she wouldn’t have minded.

But Mortimer didn’t rush. Wouldn’t be rushed. He took his time, maddeningly kissing his way across the fabric of her bra before letting her slide the straps down and unhook it for him, then nuzzling her and cupping her breasts in his hand while rhapsodizing about her beauty—and finally closing his mouth over each nipple and making her see stars as he sucked and sucked until her clit was throbbing and her insides were clenching in time to the pulls of his mouth.

“Mortimer! You can’t just... I need you to do more. Lower,” she finally burst out, pushing at the spot where she believed his shoulder to be.

“But you deserve every pleasure, my love,” he protested, moving off her left breast—only to start his ardent attack on her right.

“Thank you, it’s just... I’m not used to this foreplay. For this long,” she clarified, opening her eyes. Still nothing but the wooden slats of the ceiling and cozy Christmas lights.

“For this long? My dearest, only minutes have passed—and I have an eternity. I can take my time with you.”

“That would be torture,” Louisa huffed, stretching.

“I’ve seen your reading list, madam. You like a bit of torture.”

Louisa arched back, breasts mashing against his chest purposefully as her legs came up to clasp his waist between her thighs. “Torture can be a two-way street, Mr. Ashfield,” she teased in a seductive purr, letting her hands lift her long dark curls before fanning them out through her fingers. “Be a good ghost and give me my present so that you can open yours.”

How could ghosts suck in such a deep, hungry-sounding breath without lungs? Or needing air?

Louisa didn’t have time to marvel for long because the weight shifted, and strong, long fingers gripped her knees and held them apart.

“My gift first, my love?”

She didn’t know if he meant giving or receiving—and she didn’t care as soft, caressing suction began to stroke across her inner thigh.

UNDER HER FLUTTERINGblack skirt was a pair of thick, tight hose that seemed to squish the glorious softness he wanted to let free. Manipulating matter wasn’t hard for a ghost with many decades of experience—but he’d neglected to take into consideration the overwhelming force of his lust.

“Ooh! Tiger!” Louisa admonished as her tights ripped in half, revealing deep red underwear.

“I’m so sorry!” he gasped, horrified by his apparent brutality and overwhelmed by being so close to that one secret spot that he’d watched her touch.

I’ve seen what touching herself here makes her do. If only I could do the same...

Louisa laughed, and her hands gently landed on his hair, teasing it between her fingers with a wondering cry. “I like this side of you, Mortimer.”

“You do?”

But this isn’t me. Exactly. That was an accident.

“I like all sides of you,” Louisa whispered. “Do you think one day I’ll be able to see you?”

“I most ardently hope so. If you could see the lovelight in my eyes, Louisa... The smile you put on my face—especially right now.” One finger stroked across her thigh and then movedacross the wet crotch of her panties, making her twitch and her fingers clench down on his scalp.

He could feel how wet she was, feel the plump lips as his finger began to drag back and forth, side to side, teasing the crotch to one side until her most intimate place was revealed.

A sweet brown and pink paradise waited just out of reach, topped by a soft pad of flesh and dark, silky hair that challenged him to delve deeper and pry her apart, a stubborn treasure trove with the most tantalizing jewel inside.

“I want to taste you,” he all but begged.

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