Page 16 of Jacinth

“Seriously, what is your name?” I asked between kisses as I worked her jeans down her legs.

“You just read my headstone.”

I frowned and cast a look over my shoulder.

“Jacinth?”

She nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew her name. Also, I had freed my aching dick and no longer felt like my balls were going to burst from the squeeze. Win!

“I need you. Will you have me?”

“Huff and puff and blow my ghostly mind, Big Bad.”

As I slid into her in one rough thrust, I knew.

I’d found my new addiction.

CHAPTER 13

Jacinth

He wasn’t gentle,and I didn’t want him to be. Ironically, this was the most alive I’d felt all day, and I wanted to relish the experience. He drove into me with powerful thrusts that would have shredded my back on the tree if I had skin to shred.

I raked my nails down his shoulders and marveled as blood welled. He was so thick inside me, and I gasped in delight as he adjusted his grip and changed the angle. Mediums rocked.

I had no idea how this was possible, or what the repercussions could be, but I found it difficult to care. Burn the world, I say, as long as the orgasm I could feel building wasn’t taken from me.

I could see that happening, actually. Fate’s cruel joke that in limbo, I would forever be on the cusp, unable to...

As though he could tell I was drifting, he slid his hand between us and thumbed my clit in the most delicious of ways.

“Stay with me, my white woman.”

I groaned in approval and refocused as my climax hit in what I would like to call a complete out-of-body experience, but... y’know.

I screamed my release and vaguely heard a cheer from the peanut gallery. I had a feeling there were a few someones living vicariously at the moment. I didn’t consider myself an exhibitionist by nature, but also couldn’t exactly begrudge them their entertainment without being a hypocrite.

As I came down from my high, a wicked grin stretched across Niko’s face, and I barely caught my breath before he began to move again.

Twice.

Three times.

It wasn’t until after my fourth orgasm—when I was little more than a pool of ectoplasm—that he allowed himself to finish.

With a deep growl, he buried his face in my throat while his whole body spasmed. I stroked his hair as he panted through aftershocks that made his knees weak. If I were corporeal, he probably would have dropped me.

We rearranged our clothes and chased off the spectators, then with nothing else to do, laid on my grave and watched the late afternoon sky.

“You totally made a ghost joke mid-fuck.”

I could not stop the grin that took over my face at the thought.

“Seemed appropriate,” Niko said with a half shrug.

I snorted.

A short period of silence followed. The comfortable kind that was sure to make me overthink things if it lasted too long because I just had sex with a virtual stranger, who may or may not be my mate, along with his brothers who may or may not actually want me.

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