Scream For Us (Order of the Unseen)(4)



With that, Ghost releases me, and I gasp for air, watching as he removes the belt of his robe. I try to imagine what hides beneath the long, draped sleeves and shredded fabric of his costume.

“Face the wall,” he instructs.

And I hesitate, unsure if I’ve heard him correctly.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Quinn,” he warns, his voice low. Tight. “You asked for dark. Don’t forget that.”

Turning on my heel, I stare at the wall, bracing myself for the unknown. Terrified, yet thrilled at the same time. Adrenaline pumps like nitrous through my veins. I want this.

I need this.

He lets out a sharp breath. “Hands against the wall.”

Pressing my palms against the cold, hard surface, a chill creeps down my spine.

My instinct is telling me to run. Far, far away.

Except my arousal is evident. My nipples are puckered into hard, red buds. My pale skin is flushed. My breathing is shallow. My thighs are slick, and my body is begging to be railed. Destroyed. In every way.

But not just by anyone.

By him.

Ghost.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, and I can almost feel his gaze burning through the back of my skull.

“Yes,” I answer softly.

“Foolish, little Quinn,” he taunts me, brushing my hair behind my shoulder, exposing my neck. “Wrong answer.”

I frown, questioning my morals.

It’s Halloween. Reckless. Be reckless, I encourage myself.

Without giving it any more thought, I spin around until I’m facing him, defying his orders entirely. He towers over me, even with the added inches of my heels, making me feel so powerless in his presence. So weak, and defenseless.

It’s disturbing, yet so hot it has my mouth salivating. I’m dying to know what it feels like to be his.

“I want you,” I admit, pleading with my eyes for him to act on it. “Right now.”

Ghost leans into me, pressing my back to the wall. “So eager,” he says, as I wait impatiently for him to finally remove his mask. He drapes the belt of his costume over his shoulders and slips off his black, leather gloves.

And those hands.

They’re huge, thick, and veiny. It’s uncanny how wide his palm is and how long his fingers are. He’s not a boy. He’s a man, in every sense of the word.

A God.

The Devil, maybe.

My imagination wanders…

He tosses his gloves to the floor, and retrieves the belt, holding it out before me at eye level. “Close your eyes,” he orders.

I obey, feeling the soft fabric as it rests over my eyelids, cutting out the dim light.

He slips his hand between my thighs, massaging my clit over the thin fabric, making me squirm. “Such a good girl.”





Chapter 3





The quiet rip of my fishnets being torn at my crotch leaves me on edge. I can’t even fathom how hot he must look on his knees for me. My legs begin to quiver, and I mentally applaud myself for deciding to not wear any panties tonight.

The cold air sends a chill through me as it brushes against my damp inner thighs, as Ghost spreads my legs wider, exposing me.

“Please,” I whimper, taking my bottom lip between my teeth.

“That’s right,” he bites out. “Fucking beg.”

My heart pounds through my ribcage. “Please,” I beg, desperate to release all this built-up sexual tension.

His warm breath brushes my clit, every nerve ending on edge. “Yes,” he groans, pushing his fingers between my sensitive flesh. “Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?”

My body jolts, and I helplessly writhe against the wall, reaching down for him. Burying my fingers through his thick, lush hair, I kick open my legs wider.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” I whine.

He whines back, mocking me.

“Please, I’m begging you.”

“Fuck,” he sharply groans, rubbing my clit in slow, torturous circles, as I moan with satisfaction. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He dips the tip of his finger inside me, barely, and the anticipating is beyond agonizing. Thrusting deeper, my inner walls tighten around him, and my stomach tenses. Without warning, he quickens his pace, pushing his finger into me over and over, before adding in another.

Curling his fingers in all the right places, he slows, stroking my walls. “Such a tight, little cunt,” he says.

“Ghost,” I impatiently moan, and that does it.

Without wasting another second, he lifts me into his arms and lowers me onto the bed. Firmly grabbing my ankles, he pulls me to the edge, spreading my legs once more. He presses his lips on the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, teasingly.

And finally, he takes me into his mouth. He traces his tongue over my clit, flicking lightly in the perfect rhythm, then up and down the wet slit of my sex.

Oh hell, he knows what he’s doing.

Nobody has ever made me feel this good.

He skims his hands over my breasts, and I grab his wrists, holding them in place. Yanking down my top ever so slightly, he pinches my nipples, twirling them between his fingers. This only seems to bring me more pleasure, as he thrusts his tongue inside of my core.

“Oh my God,” I moan, writhing against his face. “Yes.”

He trails his hands down my chest, ribcage, and hips, caressing each part of my body as he slips them lower and lower to my most sensitive place. Moving my legs further apart with one hand, he pushes two fingers inside of me with the other.

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