Restless Spirits (8 page)

“I don’t know what to do first.” The hunger in his gaze stole her breath. He trailed his fingertips down her neck, and her body tightened. All of her senses strained to experience everything he had to offer.

“Your eyes are fucking liquid velvet right now. It makes me hard knowing I do that to you.” He wrapped his fingers around her neck, tracing the sensitive flesh of her voice box with his thumb. The unusual pressure tied her stomach up in knots. Anticipation blossomed. If he increased the pressure, her breathing would be hindered.
Does he like it that rough?

“Before we play I want to set some ground rules. Red’s for stop, and yellow for slow down. Can you remember that?”

“Yes,” she said, almost unable to recognize her meek voice.

“Oh, baby, you’ve needed this for a long time, I think. Look at how beautifully you submit to my will. Because you know I’ll never push you past your breaking point, don’t you?” He paused in midstroke, and their gazes caught and held. Unable to speak around the lump in her throat, she nodded.

“Good girl.” He stepped back. “Take off your shirt for me. I want to see you peel away your layers and bare yourself.” His words were full of sin, sex, and double edges. He wanted her to open everything: body, heart, mind. Her fingers shook as she gripped the edge of her shirt and pulled it over her head. A hunger for closeness and the relief of the burden she carried around on a daily basis rushed up to the surface. Water distorted her view. She sensed Pierce hesitate.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she said.

He chuckled. “If you want to continue, the rest of your clothes have to go.”

The intimacy of revealing herself to him out in the open in the midafternoon sun shook her to the core. Naked, she did her best not to fidget.

“So beautiful, Demi. All curves and soft places to welcome my planes. Turn around and put your hands on the door above your head.”

Her breath hitched as she complied. Unable to see anything, she strained to hear. He ran his hand down her back to her ass, massaging her globes.

“Spread your legs. That’s it.” His magic fingers moved to her upper thighs, and she trembled as he teased her with his almost touch on the needy place that wept. Her swollen breasts pressed into the cool door. The contrasts and Pierce’s wicked teasing made her moan.

“You ready to feel my fingers in your most delicate place?” The lyrical words drugged her senses further.

“God, Pierce.”

He ran a finger down her slippery lips and circled her swollen nub. She bucked her hips, and he eased inside her walls. She flexed, gripping him tight as she allowed herself to simply feel.

“So sexy the way you take me inside you.” His rhythm and praise were like a dark sensual swirl of chocolate, decadent and pleasurable as sensations spiraled their way through her. She wrestled the urge to move against him down, terrified he’d stop. He circled her walls, and she let her head fall back as she screamed.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. So close I can feel it. Ride my fingers until you come.” Like a runner in the last lap, she moved at top speed, greedy to make the finish. A few rocks later, she clamped down on him and cried out as she convulsed. Her legs turned to mush, and she slumped against the door. He wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her upright.

“You did so good, baby.” He peppered kisses on her back. “But I’m nowhere done with you yet.” He grabbed his bag, and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her bridal-style to her bedroom. In and out of lucidity, she coasted the blissful afterglow that had wrapped her in its arms.

He laid her on his king-size bed and ran his hands up her legs, giving her a gentle massage that did nothing to help her languish.

“You ready to be tied up now, baby?”

“Mmmhmm.” She forced her eyelids open.

“I want to try something with you. It’s unconventional, but I think you’ll enjoy it as much as I do.” He moved away and walked over to his bag. She heard the slide of the zipper followed by rustling, and he reappeared with a scarlet rope in his hand.

“Pierce?”

“Do you know what these are?” He trailed the soft material between her cleavage.

“Bondage ropes?”

“Very good, beautiful. The art of bondage is called Shibari. I like to see skin encased in a pretty intricate pattern on the flesh that heightens both our arousals. I’ve dreamed of seeing this scarlet against you for so long. Will you allow me the honor of demonstrating now?”

Her eyes were glued to the rope.

“Go ahead and feel it.” She reached out and ran her hands over the soft material. It called to her, manipulating her adventurous side to come out and play.

“I want to try.”

“Let’s get you used to Scarlet. I had her waiting here today, just in case.”

His words reinforced her decision.

“We’ll start with a very simple binding around your breast called a Shinju harness.” He caressed Scarlet with his fingertips and unwrapped her with such reverence, Demi couldn’t help but feel honored. Pierce took this very seriously. He unwound the rope and ran the length through his elegant fingers.

“Stand up.”

She rose on shaky legs, eager and nervous for what would follow.

“Turn around.”

She did as he asked, and he pressed the rope against her back, holding it in place with a finger.

“Be still. This is the fun part. Dressing my woman in the beautiful art I alone create.” He worked methodically. “You’re my canvas now, Demi.” The rope tightened, hugging her skin, giving her a sense of security she hadn’t felt since her father died, making her an orphan. Almost an embrace, it relaxed her muscles.

“Oh, baby, if you could only see yourself. You like it, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She leaned toward him, allowing him to support her weight as he delivered feather-soft caresses down her back. Her breasts were heavy and achy. Her core gushed. “You smell delicious. I don’t even know where to start.” He pushed her back gently, and she balanced on her own feet. A pinch to her nipples sent a jolt of electricity clear through her body.

“Pierce!” He rolled both extended points between his fingers, and the walls of her pussy clenched. Sensations were heightened to levels she’d never dreamed of. He paused, sucked a rock-hard bud into his mouth, and she arched her back. He moaned, and the vibrations made her whimper. A bowstring drawn tautly, she rubbed her thighs together to relieve the throbbing pulse.

He released her breast with a loud pop. “You need more, don’t you?” He moved to the opposite breast and slid his hand down her stomach, creeping closer to the place she craved him most. She panted as her lungs malfunctioned, tripping up her breaths. He parted her lips, and she moaned.

“So wet and ready.” He flicked her clit, and her hips snapped forward. “I could make you wait, draw it out until you begged, but I won’t, because I’ve been waiting for this too.” He slid two fingers inside. “Look at how you cling to me. Greedy girl. I’ll give you all you need and more.” Her eyes lowered to slits as the spell he wove washed over her, stealing the ability to focus on anything other than the things he did to her body. “Fuck.” The ragged sound tore from his throat. “I need you now, Demi.” He removed his fingers, kicked off his shoes, and yanked down his jeans and boxer briefs. He wrapped his hands around her hips, lifting her up. She wound her legs around him and locked her arms around his neck, so high on passion she felt like she’d been placed on a carnival ride.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby.” He led her over to the dresser, set her on the cool surface, and thrust home. The shock of the invasion and the temperature rolled her eyes back in her head. They came together like animals. She clawed at his back as he took her hard and fast. She tightened around him, letting go as white light exploded behind her eyelids and the orgasm he’d built up exploded like a bomb.

Chapter Eight

Demi paced the area in front of her desk, pulling her cardigan closer to her body. The never-ending chill had seeped into her bones. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something was wrong. She’d been certain she’d freed Bronwyn before. An oppressive feeling settled over her, and she clutched the soft gray material in her hand and turned. Nothing but empty air greeted her. She licked her dry lips and ran a hand through her curls.
A few weeks after ghost hunting, and I’m cracking up
. Her eyes told her there was nothing there, but her instincts told her not to drop her guard. Frustrated, she walked from the workspace into the kitchen.

She pulled her Tardis blue teakettle from the cabinet and moved to the sink. The familiar task and the sound of running water entering the metal base eased the tension from her shoulders.
I’ll have a nice cup of tea and head back to work on another level of the game
. Pleased with her plan, she shut off the water and stepped away from the sink. Something ran past the window. She jumped, sloshing water everywhere. Her heart thudded. She set down the kettle and ran for the front door. Whoever it was must’ve been running at top speed, because she hadn’t registered more than a shadow. She swung the door open, and she stepped out onto the porch, glancing from the left to the right.

The street was quiet and empty, which was normal for ten o’clock in the morning. Her stomach dropped, and the sunlight pouring down did nothing to warm her. Not one to jump to conclusions, she ran down the stairs and around the corner of the house. There were no signs that a person had come through this way. A ball of ice formed in the pit of her stomach. She quickly retraced her steps and shut the front door behind her.
Maybe it was some sort of bird. What kind of bird is shaped like a person?
Her rational side warred with the part that had seen a ghost. She imagined Pierce teasing her about confusing reality with television and snorted.
Maybe he’s right.

Brushing off the incident, she returned to the kitchen. Normal. Nothing sinister lurked in the bright space, and the air felt normal. She released a deep breath.
This is what happens when you’re in your house too long working
. Comforted, she finished making tea and trudged back to work.

* * * *

The sound of her phone drew her attention away from her project. She glanced at the clock and gasped. Four hours had passed. Rolling her neck to remove the stiffness, she grabbed the cell.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.” Pierce’s baritone washed over her, coaxing a smile.

“Hey, babe, how was your day?” The switch from friends to lovers hadn’t been the painfully awkward transition she’d feared.

“Long, but productive. Yours?”

“Pretty much the same.” Her thoughts returned to the odd sighting. She weighed the pros and cons of telling him.

“Are you up for going out?” he said.

“Yes, that’s just what I need right now. Felt like the walls were closing in on me today.”

“How about I pick you up at five o’clock? We’ll head out to that hot dog place you love so much.”

“Hot Doggers? You really know the way to a girl’s heart.”

“You know I try.” She imagined him giving a casual shrug.

“Yeah, yeah. See you in a bit?”

“Yes, my love.”

Her stomach turned over, and a silly grin spread across her lips. The little undercover romantic turned her inside out. They disconnected, and she shut down her work, pushing away from the desk. Sweatpants and a T-shirt weren’t the look she was going for on this date. A quick shower later, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a Doctor Who T-shirt. Forgoing makeup she pulled on a pair of black tennis shoes and went to wait in the living room. Sprawled on the couch, she turned on the television and stopped at a rerun of an eighties sitcom.

A knock came at the door. Excited, she jumped to her feet and rushed to the door. She unlocked the door, pulled it open and froze. Goose bumps covered her arms. There was no one there. Her stomach churned. She swept her gaze from the left to the right and saw no one.
It’s not possible to move that fast
. She gripped the door frame tight. Her knees wobbled. Pierce pulled into the driveway. Still stunned, she turned her head and watched as he stepped from the car. A frown quickly formed, chasing away the mirth that lit his eyes moments ago.

“Demi.” He jogged over and placed his large hands on her shoulders, grounding her. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I heard a knock. I thought it was you, but when I opened the door, there was no one there.”

He scoffed. “Come on, D, this isn’t funny. Didn’t you get enough of the ghost tours?” He released her shoulders and rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious, Pierce.”

“Maybe you only thought you heard a knock.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Or it was on the television.”

“I know the difference.” Anger replaced fear. She folded her hands under her chest and leaned back, balancing on her weight.

“All I’m saying is, you might still be spooked.” He held up his hands, and she scowled.

“Don’t try to pacify me.”

“I’m not. Come on, let’s just get out of the house for a while, take a break, and get some fresh air.”

Faced with the alternative of being in the house alone or out with Pierce, she opted for the lesser of the two evils. “Fine.”

He smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he led her inside, and turned off the television.

On the road a few minutes later with the wind blowing through her hair and the sun on her face, the strange incidents felt far away. She soaked up the normalcy, allowing it to blur the events in her mind.

They pulled into the parking lot, and Pierce cut the engine, turning to face her. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“Good.” He unbuckled his seat belt, opened the door, and walked around to her side to open her door.

Pressed against his side, tucked under his arm, she shook off the tendrils of fear. They walked up to the silver cylindrical camper with two windows.

“What can I get you, Demi? Sky’s the limit tonight.”

“Smart-ass.” She laughed.

“That’s what I wanted to see.”

Heat filled her cheeks, and she cleared her throat. He had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world with one phrase or look. “What do you want to eat?”