Page 14 of Ghoul Me, Maybe

ELIAS

T he storm batters Mira’s cottage like a warship ramming the hull.

Candles gutter as Sienna slams the door, her hair dripping seawater and defiance.

We’ve argued for hours—about keys, fathers, the way her wet suit clings to her hips.

My hands flex at the memory of hauling her from the vault, the first touch in a century that didn’t pass through mist.

She strips off her jacket, shoulders rigid. “If you’re going to lecture me again about caution?—”

I catch her wrist. The contact sparks like flint on steel. Her pulse thrums against my palm. “Never once lectured a woman while she’s got a knife in her boot.”

“What are you doing, then?”

“Remembering.” I step closer. Salt air clings to her skin. Not the dead brine of my wreck, but living salt—sweat and sea and something citrus beneath.

Her breath hitches. “Elias…”

The warning in her voice ignites me. I back her against the wall, forearm braced beside her head. Her pupils swallow the candlelight. One heartbeat. Two.

Her mouth crashes into mine.

It’s not a sailor’s kiss—all clumsy hunger. This is a duel. Teeth catching lips, fingers twisting in hair, her hips grinding against the hardness straining my trousers. She tears at my shirt buttons. “Don’t you fucking vanish.”

“Can’t.” I lift her, her legs locking around my waist as I carry her toward the hearth. “Not when you’re here.”

We fall onto the rug in a tangle. She arches as I lick the salt from her collarbone, cursing when my teeth graze her nipple through thin cotton. I savor the way her clever mouth goes stupid, the broken syllables as I peel her jeans down her thighs.

Her laughter scorches my ear. “You’ve done this before, Captain.”

“Died before too.” I press her palm over my chest where a heart hasn’t beat in 150 years. “Feel that?”

Her thumb brushes a nipple. “Solid enough.”

She gasps when I slide two fingers into her, her cunt slick and searing. Her heel digs into my back. “More pirate than ghost right now.”

“Both,” I growl, curling my fingers. “Always both.”

I pump my fingers into her, relishing what little heat I can feel. She's dripping wet, more and more as I continue. The look of divine pleasure on her face is something I haven't seen in so long, I almost snap to take her right then and there.

But I continue instead, insistent on watching her cum before I take my own pleasure.

"Elias…don't stop, Eli-!"

Her climax breaks like surf—a shudder, a cry swallowed by thunder. I kiss her through it, drunk on her taste. When she reaches for my cock, I still her hand. “Let me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve dreamed of this.” I push into her slowly, my voice fraying. “Of you. Of this heat.”

She rakes nails down my spine. “Fuck, Elias, you're amazing.”

The first thrust wrenches a groan from us both.

Her pussy clenches like she’s trying to keep me anchored—to this body, this moment.

I move with the rhythm of the storm outside, each roll of our hips echoing the thunder.

She chases pleasure like a woman starved, biting my shoulder when I angle deeper.

“Look at me,” I demand.

Her eyes blaze. “Afraid I’ll disappear?”

“Never.” But I know she's scared I will.

She fists a hand in my hair, dragging my mouth to hers. The kiss turns raw, desperate. Her legs tighten around me. “Stay. Stay. Stay .”

Lightning cracks. The candles flare. Something beyond flesh unfolds between us—golden threads glowing beneath our skin, my soul weaving into hers with every thrust. She sees it too. Whimpers. Clings tighter.

“Elias—”

“I know.” I cradle her face, foreheads touching as our hips piston faster. “I feel it.”

Her climax rips through our joined bodies like cannon fire. I follow her over the edge, my shout lost in the howling dark. We collapse in a gasping heap, limbs entangled, the spectral threads still pulsing where our skin meets.

“So… ghost sex. That a frequent thing for you?”

I nip her earlobe. “You’d be the first to complain if it were.”

She snorts, but her fingers keep roaming. Claiming. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

“Thoroughly.” My hand slides down her spine. “Shall I demonstrate again?”

Thunder shakes the windowpanes.

I flip her onto her back, pinning wrists above her head. The firelight paints her golden, all tangled hair and swollen lips. “Persistent little thief.”

“Archaeologist,” she corrects, arching into me.

My laugh comes out ragged. “You’ve stolen my peace, my sanity—” I nip her jaw, tongue following the sting. “What else do you plunder tonight?”

Her legs wrap around my waist, bare heels pressing crescent moons into my flesh. “Show me.”

We move like the tide—relentless, inevitable. Her pussy takes me whole this time, slick and clenching, her gasp sharp against my throat. Every thrust sparks those cursed golden threads brighter, our hips painting streaks of light in the dark.

She claws at my shoulders. “Harder. Before you—ah!—fade on me again.”

I snarl, slamming her pelvis flush to mine. “Not. Possible.” Salt drips from my hair onto her breasts. Each droplet glows where it lands.

Her laughter breaks into a moan. “Christ, Elias—the strings ?—”

“Ignore them.”

“They’re inside me now!”

I still. Lift her hand—glowing filaments weave through her veins. “Told you I’d haunt you proper.”

She licks a stripe up my straining forearm. “Cheap parlour trick.”

I resume pounding into her, pace brutal. “This cheap enough for you?”

Her cry cracks midway through. The threads flare as she comes, back bowing off the rug. I chase my own release between gritted teeth, fingers bruising her hips.

The relic thrums from Sienna’s discarded satchel, casting amber ripples across the ceiling. My fingers tense against her hip where golden filaments still pulse beneath her skin—too vibrant now, too there .

Her jaw flexes. "If you fade away…"

"I'm already dead, dove."

"Don't.” She jabs a finger into my phantom collarbone. “You’re here. Right now. Proved it thoroughly.”

The relic’s pulse quickens. Shadows bleed gold at the edges. Lightning flashes.

Thunder rattles the windows. I press the relic between our palms. It resonates like a struck bell, casting our entangled shadows on the wall—a single silhouette. “Could kill us both.”

“Like you said: you’re already dead.”

“And you’ve an answer for everything.”

She kisses me—slow, deliberate, sealing the argument. The relic’s heat spreads through my veins, a living current where only cold lingered for centuries. Her teeth catch my lip.

Through the window, the waves roar louder. Somewhere beneath that black water, the Celeste’s bones stir.