Page 74 of Devious Delusions

His voice is deeper as he says, “Being back in this house brings it all back. Especially this room.”

More guilt.

“Fuck, I miss the way you’d wake me up with your mouth.” He groans and the sheets rustle.

I focus on his pleasure as a way to assuage some of my actions. I can’t recall the memory he has and keep my voice low as though there’s anyone who could overhear us.

“When you come home, I’ll wake you up like that again.”

These thoughts are right. I should be thinking about my husband. I should want him to touch me and be fully obsessed with him. But the mask is in the back of my mind, and I imagine Ghost watching me. He’d be pissed and I’d be vindicated because he left me after I did what he said.

“I went so long without you,” he laughs lightly, “and now I can’t go a day without needing to fuck you.”

His breathing turns ragged and creates an image of him sitting in his bed stroking his dick. My previous lust has an outlet, and my guilt intensifies. I don’t feel the same urge with Asher. There’s no craving to go deeper when I’ve known him since I was a child. The memories aren’t all fake like I thought they were because they happened before my parents locked me away in that hellhole of a hospital. He did slap me, pull my hair, and even threw me out of his car while he was driving.

But he isn’t that person anymore, and I know as much about my husband as I do the freak who’s watching me. They’re both strangers, only Asher shows me his face and I knew him—Iknowwho he is now and that’s what’s important.

I lay back and stare at the ceiling as he asks, “Do you remember when you went to Miami for the summer?”

The question is strange, not because I can’t remember it, but we had a huge argument, and I slashed his tires before I left. There are no happy moments on his part unless he wants to recount how he was threatening to kill me in every message until I came home.

“Yeah?”

“I missed you like fucking crazy and that’s when I knew that you were it for me, Delilah. It wasn’t just because you’d blow me every morning. It was not being able to see you, and then trying to sleep but your hair wasn’t in my face, and I was so used tobreathing in your shampoo that the air smelled wrong without it.”

I’m an awful person and I don’t remember sleeping in his bed that often. I would sneak out of it and go back in the morning when he was already awake, which he doesn’t know, so he’s reminiscing over false details.

Tears slip out of the corner of my eyes as I whisper, “Asher, I love you.”

I don’t know who I’m trying to convince, but I don’t feel it as deeply as I thought I did. I could love this version of him that I’m ruining before I can even do it, and he’s too caught up in his desire to notice.

“I love your tight pussy and how warm it is when I first slip inside. I can still remember the first time I fucked you.” He lets out a small laugh before his voice lowers. “I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I just wanted it to be good for you and I was scared shitless of hurting you.”

Both of our memories are wrong. I’ve clearly lost the last ten years but he’s misremembering everything from before because he wasn’t a virgin, he was a cocky asshole who had fucked his way through half of my so-called friends.

The door opens and I pick my head up to see Ghost step into my bedroom. He doesn’t have the bird mask on, or his usual hoodie. He’s wearing a ski mask and a t-shirt. I smile like a fucking idiot. The cut on his arm is covered with a dressing and I stretch to the side to reach for the light.

He slowly shakes his head and I pause. I want to see him. The more he hides himself, the deeper the curiosity is. I don’t care what he looks like, I just want to know. He walks towards me without making a sound as Asher’s voice gets further away and my phone slips onto the sheets. Ghost stops at the foot of the bed. He grabs my ankles and pulls them apart before he presses his knee on the bed and leans over me.

The smoke is stronger, clinging to him, and my heart is hammering in my chest. Our chests brush as he slides my phone to lay beside me. His hands are covered in gloves again, the same black latex he always wears, and he puts the call on speaker.

“Are you wet, baby?” Asher asks.

Ghost mutes the call, and I can see his lips tip up at the side into a smirk as he assesses me. It’s too dark to make out his eye color fully with the light from my phone being obstructed by the sheets, but he’s removed one layer for me.

“Answer him,” he says and looks down my body. “Or I will.”

He unmutes the call and my voice comes out breathless without meaning to. “Yeah, I am.”

Ghost kisses below my collarbone and his lips are soft, too soft for someone as harsh as he is.

“Push two fingers into that tight pussy and tell me how you feel,” Asher groans.

I don’t move my hand as Ghost kisses a path to my chest. My back arches, pushing my tits into his face, and he circles my nipple with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, fuck.”

My moans are louder, and I grip the sheets in my fist as I push my hips down, chasing more. Asher is none the wiser and praises me. “That’s it. Now play with your clit, baby. Do it slow as if it was my tongue.”

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