Page 27 of He Who Sleeps

“Please,” she moaned. “Please, Ghost...”

“Oh, don’t worry, you will get exactly what you deserve.”

Pulling his hand from her body, he lifted her and spun them, settling her in the arms of the wailing angel, her arms up to welcome. He slung her legs over the arms, holding her open, and at the perfect height for him to play with her. And she knew he would play.

Sitting there, blood slowly running down her chest, she arched her neck, and bit her bottom lip, loving the feeling of being exposed to him, the cool night air chilling her heated flesh.

He struck again then, a soft nick just on her right rib, then another on the left, and more warmth trailed down her torso.

“So fucking perfect. Look at those nipples pearl.” His modulated voice sounded absent with awe. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” she said softly. “I want all you give me, Ghost.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

Forever?” he asked as he ran the knife down her solar plexus, to just above her navel.

“Forever, Ghost.”

“And if I kept you...”

She arched. “To chase and to catch and to carve up?” she said softly. “I’m yours, Ghost, to do with as you need.”

Taking the knife, he lunged and stabbed it into the tree that was growing out of the base of the Angel, embedding it at least an inch. The power behind the thrust, she knew he was holding back. Still, she moaned and gasped.

And then he was in front of her, sliding his thick cock into her, his head bent down as hers was, watching her body suck him in, the blood reaching her clit, and then lower, trailing down to his cock.

As it reached him, he groaned and gripped her hips, thrusting hard, her body wide open to him. Her back banged against the rock chest of the angel, the sight of her blood, of it now painting his own skin as he fucked her, clearly turned him on even more.

“Ghost, please,” she moaned and surrendered, letting him use her, his little blood rag doll.

“So fucking good,” he hissed behind the mask and she couldn’t handle it. Somehow, his modulator was off and she was hearing his sexy, silky voice. She came on a sob, shaking, the force of his thrusts even harder now, hips like a piston.

Ghost!” she screamed as he gripped her throat, sending her into another climax, his barely restrained violence causing her to grip him like a goddamn vise.

He lost control then, a roar into the night as she reached around him and pulled his mask off. Her eyes saw him in the gloom of the moonlight, beautiful and familiar. His face flashed into her mind, one of the surgeons the shelter used when they had an extremely bad case.

“Dr...Ken...”

Panting hard, he ripped his knife from the wood and held it to her throat. She stared at him, waiting to see what he would do. Would he kill her? Would he end his game?

Their eyes locked and she let out a breathy little moan, her body fluttering around him yet again, and it seemed to bring him back to her, because instead of slicing into her flesh once more, he leaned in and took her mouth in a brutal kiss.

Their tongues tangled. He gripped her hair and head and she felt the knife leave her throat, heard it hit the ground.

Ghost pulled away, eyes glassy, and pulled out of her with a squelch. He smirked, the action lopsided, and then leaned in and kissed her again. She heard him zip up, and then she was being carried to the edge of the graveyard, right to the path that would lead back to the house.

Turning to him, standing on shaky legs, she smiled and he winked, walking back into the darkness.