Page 92 of Ghost Hunted

“I’m so glad I have you back,” I murmur in her ear. “Every single part of you. Your ass, your tits, your tears, your memory. Don’t you dare ghost me again, do you hear?”

I nibble on her earlobe, then drag my tongue down her neck as she shivers.

“Logan, wait... how about dessert?”

“I’m about to give you the best dessert you’ve ever had, ghost girl.”

“I want a real dessert...”

I toy with her nipples, running my fingers over them until they’re stiff, before tweaking and pinching them.

“I can’t wait any longer, Lia. I just can’t. But if you’re my good girl now, maybe I’ll get you a chocolate cake later. Now, behave.”

“Fuck! Ow, fuck!”

I’ve just pinched her nipples particularly hard.

“Logan, stop!” She tries to crawl away, but I push her back down on the bed, frustration getting the better of every other emotion I’ve been struggling with.

“I’ve been very patient, Lia. I’ve had nineteen fucking years of patience. And these past few days have been the hardest ones of all. So you’re going to lie right down and let me use your body.”

“But I’d like the chocolate cake first,” she pleads.

I stare at her. “Are you fucking with me right now, Lia? Or do you really not want me? Red still works. Red will always work. But I swear, it’s going to drive me crazy if I can’t touch you. Do I need to stop? Is it red?”

She blushes hard. “I’m just... nervous. I’m still not used to... Okay, go ahead.”

My chest feels a lot lighter as I place a hand on her waist and another on her back, nudging her up and then pushing her down on her stomach.

“What are you doing?” she gasps when I start running my hand over her back and then over the swell of her ass, parting her cheeks so I can admire what’s between them.

“Close your eyes, Lia,” I grunt. “Put your face down against the mattress and lock your hands behind your head.”

She obeys, looking more nervous than ever, but her ass wriggles in anticipation. I reward it with a smack.

Then I edge back, looking at her naked body. She’s mine. I can do whatever I want to her, and she can’t do a thing about it—she belongs to me. The thought makes me hard.

“How should I play with my ghost girl, hmm?” My hand falls on her ass again, but this time, it’s to pinch and knead her cheeks. Then I slip my fingers in her crack, but I don’t enter her. I just want to touch her. To remember every part of her.

I stroke up and down, over her asshole, down to her pussy, and after a few moments, she relaxes under my touch, moaning and arching up to me.

“Alright,” I say, pausing abruptly when I see her enjoying it too much, “get in the cage.”

She looks up, her face white. “Wh-what?”

I don’t know why I’m like this. My mind has accepted all the trauma she’s gone through and tells me it’s my fault. My heart goes out to her and wants to protect her and make her happy. But my cock…

My cock wants her to suffer.

“Get in the cage,” I say, my voice hard.

She frowns. “No. No, I don’t want to.”

“Too bad.” I grab her, slinging her over my shoulder as she lets out a stifled yelp, then push her through the opening left by the sawed off bars.

“I won’t stay here. I won’t let you keep me in this cage! I’ll leave!”

I know she’s only talking about the cage, but her words reawaken all my old anger.