Page 7 of Ghoul

7

Ghoul

Iwasn’t sure how we got from the main area and down the stairs to the room that would be mine for the time being. My hands were unsteady, and my body weaved in protest of all the alcohol we’d consumed. Her hands were above her head, and her shirt was off in seconds. The moonlight glistened through the window and off her plump white tits.

“Fuck,” I muttered, pushing her against the wall, and she giggled, shoving me off her, and slammed my back against the wall. It hadn’t been that long since I’d gotten laid, a few of the nurses at the prison didn’t have only one reason to show up for their shift. There were countless times I faked an illness so I could be escorted to medical and wound up with one of them in the infirmary bathroom. This was different, though. It was desperate and borderline aggressive. It was the buildup of hate fucking, although we had no reason to hate one another. Little did she know, I liked it rough; the harder she gave it to me, the further I took it.

My fingers wrapped around her throat, and my teeth ground into her bottom lip, releasing it with a pop. “Is this how you want it ?” I honestly asked, waiting for her permission to move forward, my tongue trailing from her collarbone to her ear.

“Fuck yes,” she all but screamed, driving her nails into the top of my back, pain following as she ripped them down to my hips. She was my enigma. My match. I never thought it would take giving myself unto insanity and embracing my murderous past to find the woman I’d searched for the majority of my adult life. I never did anything without asking first, but once she gave consent, it was fucking on.

“Last chance to run.” I slightly opened my hand and widened my fingers, lifting them away from her skin.

Her hand wrapped around mine, and she squeezed our palms over her throat with one hand while she undid my jeans with the other.

Maybe I was deranged and never left the psychiatric unit of the prison. That couldn’t be true, though. This felt too real to be imaginary, too good. Every moment her skin was pressed against mine, I questioned my actions. I had never let myself fully go with anyone because there was always hesitation and fear behind their eyes long before we reached where this woman and I were now.

The cell Spider gave me buzzed in the front pocket of my jeans and then rang. I wasn’t about to answer it, I didn’t give a shit who it was. They could wait. Her lips pulled apart from mine, and she glanced down to the noise. “You need to get that?” she asked, her hand running over the outline of the phone, and then her fingertips traced the contour of my dick.

“No,” I said in a deep throaty voice and caught her hand as she withdrew it.

“You sure?” she teased, returning her grip and stroking the length of my cock through my jeans.

“They can wait.”

She smirked out of satisfaction and finished undoing my jeans. The ringing stopped for a few seconds and then started again. I shook my head, lifted her by her hips, and tossed her onto the bed, which sparked a giggle from her. “One second,” I grumbled with a huff, grabbing the cellphone and putting it to my ear.

“Boss?” I tried to hide the frustration in my voice but wasn’t fooling anyone with my tone.

“You good? You disappeared, and so did Trick. Not killing him, are you?”

“Nah, I’m, uh…” I paused, undoing the laces of my boots, and kicking them off to give myself time to figure out what to say. “Otherwise occupied with someone.” I smirked as I freed my legs from my boxers and pants, watching her remove her clothing one item at a time.

“Gotcha. Go take care of business.” Spider knowingly laughed and ended the call.

“Fuck. Where were we?”

“You were about to prove to me that this was a good idea,” she hesitantly said as I straddled her body.

“Challenge accepted, baby.” I moved my tip over her entrance, wrapping my fist around my shaft and pumping it up and down against her. She grasped at the sheets and moaned as her tongue swiped over her lips, wetting them.

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