Page 20 of Ghost’s Obsession (Savage Legion MC #14)

Heather

W e’re still sitting on the edge of his bed. Talking to him is getting easier. Sharing with him how I got snared by Carnage was embarrassing. I should have been more cautious about moving in with him. Ghost was right about him being manipulative. He manipulated me pretty easily.

I like the feeling of being held. It’s fine that he’s got a huge boner.

I manage to make myself comfortable on his lap in spite of it.

It’s also flattering that he’s so attracted to me.

The feeling is definitely mutual. Lying my cheek against his chest lets me hear the thump of his heartbeat.

The way his arms tighten around me feels possessive.

But still, in his arms is where I finally find my calm. “You’re safe now,” he tells me.

I know. I can feel it. The thing is, I want to feel something more. “Can I ask you something?” I murmur, surprising myself with how steady I sound.

Ghost nods once. “Always. If I don’t have the answer, I’ll find it for you.”

I tilt my head up to look him in the eyes. “Do you ever need to get out of your own head?” I ask. “Like, just do something to take your mind off everything?”

His eyes don’t leave mine. “Yeah. All the time.”

My heart flutters in my chest. “Would you like for us to help each other do that, tonight?”

He stills completely and his gaze turns heated. “Are you sure that you want to have sex with me?”

I nod. I can’t think of anything I want more right now.

Ghost doesn’t speak. He just cups my cheek again like he did before. His palm is rough and warm. His thumb caresses my skin like touching me too hard might injure me. But I don’t feel scared of his muscles or strength. I feel loved, cherished, and protected.

Then he leans in and kisses me. Not softly. I don’t think Ghost even knows how to kiss softly. His lips are rough, insistent, demanding even. It feels like he’s been holding back and finally decided not to anymore.

After a few seconds, his mouth slants more fully over mine. From the start, there’s nothing gentle about it. I don’t want it to be gentle. I want him—his strength, his weight, his heart. The kiss pushes any lingering anxiety out of me and replaces it with fire.

My hands find his shoulders, and my fingers flex against solid muscle. I open my mouth more fully, letting him take more. His tongue slides against mine. I moan quietly into his mouth before I even realize I’m doing it.

When we finally break apart, I’m breathless. My lips are tingling. And my chest is rising and falling too fast.

“You sure you want what I have to offer, sweetheart?” he asks again, voice thick with need.

“Yes. If I hadn’t been sure before, you’ve totally convinced me.”

His lips twitch in something close to a smile, but it’s dark, possessive. “Then lie back.”

I do as he says. My back sinks into his bed, and he moves over me, one knee pressing between mine as he settles above me. His hands skim down my sides. I feel his callused fingers slip under the hem of my shirt.

His eyes never leave mine as he pushes my shirt up. I know he’s on guard for any sign that I want him to stop, that I’ve changed my mind. He doesn’t get anything of the sort from me because I want this more than I want my next breath.

He pulls the shirt over my head, tosses it aside, and looks down at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in his world.

“Fuckin’ hell, Heather,” he says. “You’re beautiful.”

I reach for him and pull him back down for another kiss because this sexy biker has convinced me that we’re making a good decision here.

Ghost kisses me again, slower this time.

His tongue delves deeper. I melt into it, letting my hands roam across the hard lines of his chest. Every inch of him feels like tension and heat.

I trace one of his tattoos with my fingertips, following the black ink over his ribs, and he shudders slightly under my touch.

“You okay?” he murmurs against my lips.

“I just love everything about being with you,” I say.

His eyes flick to mine. “Like what?”

“The way you kiss,” I tell him quietly. “The way you touch me, take your time.”

His thumb strokes the curve of my waist. “We don’t have to rush it.”

“I don’t want to,” I say. “I just needed to say it out loud. This feels different, better than anything I’ve ever known before.”

His gaze doesn’t waver. “It’s different for me too.”

That settles something between us. It gives me a sense of peace that I didn’t know I needed.

I sit up a little and reach for the hem of his shirt.

He lifts his arms without a word, and I pull it off, dropping it to the floor beside the bed.

And then I just look at him. His chest is broad and solid, layered in tattoos and scars.

My hands find the edge of one just below his collarbone and trace it slowly.

He lets me explore, seemingly proud of his muscles and tattoos.

“I know that I’m not perfect,” he says suddenly, voice low. “You don’t have to be either. We’re two people who want to be together. Stay in the moment with me. Don’t drift off.”

That’s the sweetest thing a man has ever said to me. It touches me more profoundly than anything else tonight.

I pull off my bra and toss it away. His eyes darken immediately. The muscle in his jaw flexes, but he doesn’t rush. Ghost doesn’t pounce. He just lets his gaze drift over me like he’s starving and I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted to eat.

“Touch me,” I whisper breathlessly.

Ghost doesn’t lunge at me, nor does he get rough or impatient. He just shifts closer, dips his head, and places a kiss just above my breast, then another and another, creating a tiny trail of kisses downward. Each one is lower than the last until his mouth finds my nipple and closes around it.

I gasp, making a sharp, involuntary sound as heat pulses low in my belly. His mouth is hot, wet, and careful, tongue swirling slowly before he sucks gently, then harder. My back arches without me meaning to, my hands diving into his hair to keep him close.

He groans against my skin, like he likes the way I taste, like this is something he’s craved.

When he switches to the other side, he cups the first breast in his hand, kneading it gently as he licks and teases the second nipple until it’s tight and aching. I can’t think straight. My breath comes in uneven bursts, my thighs shifting restlessly beneath him.

“Jesus, Ghost,” I whisper. “That feels so good.”

He lifts his head, his voice low and rough. “Then let me give you more.”

Before I can answer, he kisses a trail down my stomach, slow and reverent, like he’s mapping me with his mouth. My legs are still spread on each side of him. He doesn’t ask permission this time. He just looks at me, waiting for the smallest sign.

I give a slight nod to go for it, and that’s all he needs. He peels everything off in one smooth pull, and I’m laid bare under his gaze. Feeling naked and vulnerable excites me. I’ve never felt more powerful.

He settles between my thighs, kisses the inside of one, then the other. The first stroke of his tongue makes me gasp again, louder this time. He doesn’t stop because I’ve alerted him that I like it.

His mouth is skilled, patient, and deliberate. He licks slowly at first, then faster, tongue circling that aching spot with maddening control. When he sucks, my hips jerk off the bed.

I moan. The sound is raw and needy. There’s no pretending when his mouth is on me.

My fingers rake through his hair, holding on tight as the pleasure builds fast and sharp in my core.

“I’m going to come,” I cry out, too far gone to think properly.

“I’ve got you,” he rasps. “Let go.”

I do, and my orgasm hits like a tidal wave, ripping through me in one wave after another. It leaves me wrecked, shaking, moaning his name incoherently.

“You with me?” he murmurs.

“Don’t stop now. I want your cock.”

He kisses me like I’ve said something precious. Like I haven’t just fallen apart on his tongue. Like I’m allowed to do it again.

“You good to go or do you need a minute?” he asks, brushing his nose against mine.

I gaze up at him, still breathless. “I’ve never been better.”

Ghost leans back just far enough to shuck off his jeans. My eyes follow every movement. He’s slow and unhurried about removing his pants. When he pushes his boxers down and his cock springs free, my mouth goes dry. He’s hard, thick, and flushed dark at the tip.

My breath hitches. He notices.

“Too much?” he asks, his voice low and careful.

“No,” I say quickly. “I want it. I want you.”

He grabs a condom from the nightstand, tears it open with his teeth, and rolls it on, every motion efficient and fluid. He settles back over me, bracing his forearms on either side of my head.

“I’ll go slow,” he says.

I reach for him, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Yes, start slow. And when I get used to that ginormous cock of yours, don’t hold back.”

That’s all it takes for him to notch his cock at my entrance and push forward.

Even slow, his thick cock burns going in.

Pressure that burns and fills at the same time.

I gasp, my hands clutching his back, legs tightening as my body stretches to take him.

Inch by inch, he sinks deeper, and it’s so much, but I love it.

Better than good. It’s overwhelming in the way I’ve been craving.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re tight. So goddamn perfect.”

When he bottoms out, I feel stuffed full of him. He stays still, just breathing hard, giving me a second to catch up.

“Okay?” he asks, voice rough.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Move. Please.”

His hips roll slow at first, thick cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside me. My body responds instantly, rising to meet every thrust. The rhythm builds, each stroke deeper, harder, until my moans turn into gasps and gasps into curses.

“Look at me,” he says, voice tight. “Wanna see how much you like my cock.”

Unable to resist the tone of his voice in the moment, I look into his eyes. That’s when I see it. He’s not just fucking me. He’s making love to me.

Pleasure builds, tightening low and sharp. His thumb finds my clit, circles it just right, and my whole body tenses.

I scream his name as I come. My whole world fractures into a wave after wave of pleasure as he pounds into me.

He groans, hips slamming deep, and with a final thrust, he follows me into the bliss. He’s shuddering, breath ragged, holding me like he never wants to let go.

We stay tangled together, his cock planted deep inside me. Neither of us moves because we’re both just trying to catch our breath.

His weight is heavy on me, but it’s more comforting than crushing. It makes me feel safe in a way I hadn’t known I needed. His forehead rests against mine, both of us winded like we’ve just been through something we’ll never forget.

Eventually, he pulls out with a soft groan and disposes of the condom. I shiver at the loss of him, but before I can miss it for too long, he pulls me close again, wrapping his arm tight around my waist and tucking me against his chest.

“Still with me?” he asks, voice low, warm against my temple.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Still here.”

His thumb brushes over my hip, slow and lazy. “You okay?”

“More than okay, I say against his chest.

There’s a pause. He kisses the top of my head.

“You don’t owe me anything just because we had sex,” he says. “Not explanations, promises, or any damn thing else.”

“I know,” I murmur. “But I think I might be falling in love with you.”

That earns the smallest smile I’ve ever seen on him. It’s barely there, but it’s so sweet that it melts me. I close my eyes, listening to the beat of his heart. And for once, I fall asleep knowing I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.