Page 15 of A Guide to Ghosting (Monsters of Moonvale #3)

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I just had the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced, and I’m livid .

Why is it that I feel barely anything now that I’m undead, and yet I get Noah inside me and come so hard I see stars? It doesn’t make any sense! I’ve always needed an emotional connection to enjoy sex, and even when I had it, I rarely got off with partners.

Guess I should’ve tried hate fucking sooner. Though it didn’t really feel like hate when I watched Noah’s brow twist in pleasure and shock when I came on his dick.

It felt right . Like we were made to do this together. It reminded me of the flutters I felt during our date years ago—a sense of something special and the potential for the deep connection I’d been craving my whole life.

Which pisses me off even more, goddammit. Because if there’s some kind of magical sex connection between us—something I can’t discount now that I’m my own undying proof that paranormal and magical things are real—then I could’ve had this when I was alive if the asshole hadn’t ghosted me.

It’s that anger and my still simmering lust that has me pushing Noah down to the ground. His flinch of fear at my sudden assault does things to me that I’m not proud of, but I’m quickly realizing that it doesn’t fucking matter.

I’m dead. If I get turned on seeing Noah momentarily scared, who cares? When I was alive, I would’ve had a litany of things I stressed out about with sex. Do they think I look good at this angle? Should I have shaved myself bare? Do I smell or taste weird? Am I making enough sound or am I too vocal? I’d get so wrapped up in my own head that enjoying the moment was a monumental task.

None of it matters now. God, it’s so freeing to let myself chase what I want. And what I want right now is to come again.

Noah’s cum is still warm inside me, slowly dripping down my thighs as I set the phone aside. He lies back on the ground, pupils blown with anticipation of what I’m going to do next, and heat coils in my low belly at his vulnerable, submissive state.

He’s going to make up for every missed orgasm I could’ve had with him when I was alive. I want to use him until he’s so exhausted and spent that he can’t continue, and then get him to make me come one more time.

Without further preamble, I move so I’m kneeling with his face between my thighs, hovering above him for a moment to let a drop of his cum fall from me down onto his chin. Noah’s eyes go even wider as he looks up at my pussy.

I can only imagine how surreal it must be for him, seeing his spend dripping down onto his face from midair since the steam isn’t thick enough this low to the floor for it to outline my body.

The thought sparks a question I hadn’t considered—would he be able to see me if I covered myself in something? The clothes I died in and the things I had on me at that time seem to be caught in my little bubble of invisibility, even if they’re not touching me. But what would he see if I put on a skintight bodysuit or covered my body in paint?

I’m stunned by the thought, and then disappointed in myself that it took me this long to consider. Ghosts are drawn all the time as floating sheets. Could it really be that simple to be seen? What would that mean for me?

Another drop of cum falls from me and Noah groans, his hands reaching up, feeling around until they land on my thighs and urge me down onto his face.

I’ll have to save that ghost clothes thought for later, because the second his tongue swipes a hot, wet stripe across my pussy, I don’t care about anything other than pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s it. Be a good boy and lick me clean,” I gasp, enjoying being able to say all the dirty things that come to mind without having to worry about sounding silly. Even though Noah can’t hear me, he knows what I want, and sets about doing it with surprising gusto.

Noah glides his tongue across my pussy like he’s on a mission to taste every inch of me. There’s no finesse at first beyond exploring me with his mouth, finding every trace of his cum that’s already spilled out onto my labia and inner thighs. I’ve never been eaten out like this, but it’s making me dizzy feeling how eager and enthusiastic he is to follow my command.

“So obedient. Do you like the way you taste dripping out of my pussy?” I ask, shivering as he sucks a spot to the side of my clit that I never knew could be so good.

He pulls back to catch his breath for a moment, as if in response to my words. “I’ve never done anything like this before, but fuck, Ghost, you taste so good mixed with me.”

My thighs tense at his words, which seem far too specific to be a coincidence. Can he hear me?

“Noah?” I ask tentatively, but there’s no reaction. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed, but it’s hard to explore my feelings about it when he finds my clit and sucks it.

“Oh shit,” I cry out, my hands flying down to his head to keep his mouth where it is. I grind down against his mouth as I tangle my fingers into his messy, dark hair and hold him to me.

Noah’s grip on my thighs tightens, holding me against him with equal fervor. I’ve never been with a man who was so into eating me out, but there are zero complaints from me as I ride his face with abandon. Noah’s moans vibrate against my clit and pleasure coils tighter and tighter until my thighs are shaking and I’m ready to shatter.

“Make me come. Yes, that’s it, fuck, that’s it.” I come hard, crying out so loud it echoes against the bathroom walls. Noah doesn’t stop, moving his tongue down to dip inside me as my pussy clenches with each wave of my orgasm. When it becomes too much to handle, I shove his head back down onto the bathmat and pry his hands off of my hips so I can move off of him.

Noah is wrecked, his mouth glistening with my wetness, his hair mussed and cheeks burnished. His dark eyes are hooded with desire, and though I know he can’t see me, his gaze still burns into me.

“You still want more, don’t you?” I murmur, looking down to see his cock is hard again, thick and pointing up toward the ceiling, like it’s waiting for me to sit astride it.

“Ghost, are you still there? Please, I…” Noah says, trailing off with a groan as he brings a hand down to fist his cock. “Fuck, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

I chuckle a little at his desperate tone. “I think it’s pretty clear, given how hard your dick is.” I move astride his thick stomach and his breath hitches in anticipation. “I don’t know if you deserve more,” I say, running my hands up his chest to brush against his nipples, then down his stomach, which tenses beneath my touch.

“Please, I need you,” Noah groans, releasing his dick to run his hands up my thighs, then further up my body to palm my breasts.

Hot, molten arousal pools inside me again as he caresses my breasts, and I grasp his cock and position it at my entrance, teasing the tip for a moment as I revel in the pained look of need on Noah’s face. “You definitely don’t deserve more, but I sure as hell do.”

The look of ecstasy on Noah’s face as I sink down onto him is almost enough to make me come again already.

Fuck, how does he feel so goddamn good? It’s like his dick was made to fill me the exact way I need. I brace my hands on his stomach and start to rock against him, pleasure sparking as his cock rubs inside me.

I used to hate being on top because dudes expected me to bounce on their dick like I’m a porn star, but this? This grinding against him, finding the motion that works best for me while not blowing out my knees trying to move up and down on his cock, is so fucking good.

Noah doesn’t seem to mind, either. He’s thick and hard inside me and with every movement of my hips, he rocks up inside me from below. I don’t know if he’ll get off this way, but I don’t care. I chase my pleasure like a selfish, mediocre dude who has never made a woman come. I take my time until I find the movement that feels the best and I let my orgasm build. When it finally washes over me in shuddering waves, I feel euphoric.

“I love how you feel when you come around me,” Noah gasps, his fingers digging into the globes of my ass. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come again.”

His words call to something sadistic in me, and suddenly I’m phasing through him, my body immaterial as I move away. His wet, ruddy cock slaps against his stomach as he cries out in protest. “Wait, fuck, no!” He reaches out, but his hands go right through me.

“Come back,” Noah groans and I watch him with glee as he scans the steamy bathroom for some sign of me.

I focus on the symphony of sensations thrumming through me and attempt to use the intense feelings to re-solidify. When I’m able to pick up his phone, there’s a surge of accomplishment inside me for being able to control my spectral abilities.

Noah starts to stroke his cock in frustration, and I write a message as fast as I can.

Don’t come. Wait until I contact you again.

When I turn the screen to him, Noah’s eyes widen, mouth hanging open as he pants with need. “What? You can’t be serious. I was so close.”

I type out a reply, an evil grin forming on my lips as I bask in the post-orgasm high and his frustration.

I am. Be good for me. I’ll know if you aren’t.

“Fuck,” Noah groans, his cock twitching as he reads my message. “Okay. I’ll wait. Shit, you’re cruel, Ghost.”

Take it or leave it. I don’t need your dick to get off.

It’s an absolute lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Noah sits up and shakes his head with a slightly pained laugh. “I said I’d wait.”

Good boy.

I reach out with my free hand and wrap my fingers around his still-hard dick, giving it a firm pump.

“Shit!” Noah grunts, and I laugh as I pull off of him and his face twists into a grimace. “You’re evil,” he mutters.

“No, I’m not. I’m giving you what you deserve and getting what I need at the same time,” I say aloud as I pat his cheek.

He swats at my invisible hand, making me laugh harder. “Do I get to know when you’ll contact me again?”

No.

Noah rubs a hand across his face. “Right. Of course not. I’m fucking a horny ghost woman that gets off on tormenting me.” Even though he sounds exasperated, there’s a hint of amusement in his tone. “Well, I guess I’ll see you when I see you…or you know what I mean.”

I get up and turn off the shower, then head out of the bathroom, casting one last look at the dazed, disheveled man pushing himself up off the floor. Something squeezes in my chest that feels a lot like fondness as I watch him, and I wince at the absurd emotion.

Stop it. That’s not happening.

I don’t like him. I like fucking him and fucking with him. And maybe I don’t exactly hate Noah now that my initial rage at him being in my house has cooled. But I don’t like him.

I don’t .