Page 59 of My Ghost

“You drive me insane,” I hiss, pressing her wrists harder into the bed, needing her to feel it, needing her to see what she does to me.“I’ve killed men for less than this.And you…” I trail off, my sanity hanging on by a thread.Her scent is driving me wild.

She tries to jerk her wrists free, but I lean in closer, my forehead touching hers.“You’re not leaving me,” I rasp against her lips, my voice trembling with the resolve behind those words.“Not today, not ever.I don’t care how much you fight me, or how much you hate me… I’ll take it all.Every look, every breath, every bit of you.Because you.Are.Mine.”

She pushes against me, her breathing hard, and I can feel her heartbeat pounding against my chest.It’s maddening.She’s maddening.

She glares up at me, fire in her eyes despite the fear I see flickering underneath.“I’m not yours,” she spits.

Something in me snaps.My lips crash on hers, and it’s not a kiss but a claim, my teeth dragging against her bottom lip until she gasps.I release her wrists only to grab her hips, digging my fingers in as if I could carve myself into her skin just to remind her she belongs to me.There is no softness, only the raw, gnawing need to own her, to make her feel what I feel.

I pull back to see her face, flushed and furious, and I swear my pulse is a drumbeat in my ears.“Say it,” I demand, my voice harsh.“Say you’re mine.”

She shakes her head, defiant, and I let out a rough laugh, dark and broken.“You’d rather fight me than admit the truth,” I grit out.“You’d rather pick up a knife than admit what’s between us.But I see it, I feel it every time you look at me, every time you try to push me away and fail.”

My mouth trails down her throat, hot and desperate, tasting her skin like a man starved.I can’t stop.I don’t want to stop.My hands are everywhere, shaking from how badly I want her.“Do you know what you’ve done to me?”I whisper against her collarbone, my voice raw.“I can’t fucking think, can’t breathe without you crawling into my head.”I pin her wrists again, harder, leaning over her, my forehead pressed to hers.“You can hate me all you want, but you’ll hate me while I’m inside your skin, like you are under mine.”

And with that, I kiss her again, deeper this time, in a messy collision of anger and desire, as though I can fuse us together.I release her wrists to trail my hand down to her pussy.I stroke her through the lace of her panties and my heart skips a beat when I find it damp.I feel her breath hitch and a ragged moan slips out of her throat.That sound drives me fucking feral.

In one single movement, I pull her panties off her, removing her shoes at the same time.Then I snake my hand around her to unclasp her bra and throw it aside, and there she is, bared, offered to me.I see the edges of my vision blur as I take her in.I faintly feel her pushing against my chest with her hand, maybe she is saying something, but the drumming of my heartbeat in my ears drowns out any other sound.I cup her pussy with my hand, sliding a finger inside her.I groan.“Fuuuck, so wet.”I am going to come in my pants.

A desperate frenzy takes over and I move my hand to her throat, pinning her to the mattress while I claw my clothes away.Buttons fly, fabric tears, and I am finally stripped of everything between me and her.I look down, breathing hard.Her eyes are huge as they look up at me, frightened but defiant.And fuck me if this isn’t the most beautiful sight ever.

I strike with a feral growl.In a blink I am on her, pinning her under me and I harshly grab her thighs to open her, baring her to me.And then in one hard push I am seated deeply inside her.

Fuck, she feels like heaven.

My last shred of sanity dissolves and there is nothing else than a primitive, intense need to own, to possess.I start to pound into her in hard, brutal thrusts, feeling pleasure so intense coiling in my balls that I see stars.I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her like a drug while I hold her hips in a rough grip.I know that she will be bruised, that my marks will be visible on her porcelain skin, and it drives me further into madness.A thought filters dimly through my haze—she needs to come, too.

I wrestle back a sliver of lucidity and creep a hand down between our bodies to circle her clit with my thumb, drawing low moans out of her.My face is still buried in her neck and I feel her heartbeat thrumming against my lips as I lick and nip at her pulse point.I snap my hips forward, burying myself deeper into her, desperate to own her on more than a physical level.Desperate to imprint myself into her so deep that she would never leave me.

I hear her moans grow louder and more urgent and I can’t take it anymore.

“Fucking come for me, now,” I grit out and bite down on her neck, sucking her skin hard, marking her for everyone else to see.Mine.

She comes in a loud cry, her pussy contracting around me, and this is all it takes to push me over the edge.I grip her hips to hold her immobile and slam into her three more times before I freeze, shuddering, feeling my cum shoot out into her in hot spurts.I roar from the sensation, the release so intense it shakes me to the core.

When I recover at last, I hear our ragged breaths coming out like one and I feel her heart pounding against my chest.I hoist myself up on my elbows and look at her.Her face is flushed, her eyes closed, lips parted to let out low pants.So beautiful.

Still inside her, I lift my hand to her face to cup her cheek and brush my thumb over her lower lip.Her eyes fly open and lock on mine.And I fucking drown in their violet depths.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Erin

I breathe hard, still dazed by the orgasm that shattered me.Matteo is poised over me, staring down at me with an intense glint in his eyes.My mind is a jumbled mess and my body is spent.Every part of me feels raw, exposed, like he has cracked me open and there is no hiding from him anymore.

He doesn’t move away.Instead, his hand slides to my face, tilting my chin up until I have no choice but to meet his gaze.His eyes are dark, pupils blown so wide that I almost can’t distinguish the dark brown of his irises.He brushes his thumb over my lower lip, the gesture so achingly tender that I feel my heart constrict painfully.

“Come,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that leaves no room for argument.“You’re a mess, little ghost.Let me clean you.”

Before I can protest, he scoops me up as if I weigh nothing, cradling me against his chest.My limbs are weak, my whole body feels boneless, and I hate myself for not resisting.He carries me through the open door to the bathroom, into the shower.

“Matteo, I can—” I start, but he silences me with a sharp look and a raised brow.

“Can what?”he growls softly, setting me on my feet but keeping a hand on my hip as if I might bolt.“You can barely stand.Stop fighting me for once.”

He turns on the shower and water pours down from the rain shower head above.He steps into the spray first, then pulls me in after him.Warm water encompasses me, soothing and grounding.I feel my mind settle, and my body relax.

Matteo reaches for a bottle on the shelf on the side and opens it.A familiar, subtle flowery scent begins to permeate the shower stall.My stomach drops.