In the middle of the night

Chapter 6

A soldier's mind is strong, but everyone has their breaking point. And after two long weeks without her, Ghosts breaking point had been reached. He had to see her again, had to touch her again. A smile flashed over her face when she heard him entering that house at night.

"I missed you," she said with a smile, arms reaching out to him.

"Missed you too." Words mumbled quietly into the fabric of his mask, like he didn't want to admit it. He lifted her up, pulling her into a tight embrace. Her head was pressed against his heart, hearing it pound so hard that it sounded like thunder was roaring in his chest. He held her close, not wanting to let her go for a single moment.

He still held her as he sat down on her bed, leaning against the headboard, pulling her on his lap, her back resting against his broad chest. She didn't know what he wanted to do tonight, but she was eager to find out. Ghost loved the feeling of having her in his lap. Loved to feel her warmth, loved to feel her small body pressed so close to his.

"Don't move," he ordered, his voice stern, but still loving.

His orders were there to be obeyed, so that's what she did. She heard him unbuckle his belt before his hands found hers, pulling them behind her back. Rough leather against soft skin, slowly pulling the belt closed around her wrists.

Making sure that he had her exactly where he wanted her. His hands left her wrists and started wandering over her body. Slow. Painfully slow. Feeling like bliss and torture at the same time. He loved to see how her body responded to his touch. Wanted her to feel desperate. His hand wandered over her waist, slowly creeping higher until it was under her shirt, caressing her breasts. Her whole body trembled underneath his touch, her breath catching in her throat.

Ghost was cruel and gentle at the same time – making her want more, but not giving it to her. They were both back where they started, showing her who was in control. The fingers of his free hand wrapped around her throat, making her arousal grow even more. As much as she loved it when he was gentle, she loved it when he was like that.

Cruel, brutal, merciless.

When his hand closed around her throat, it was light at first. Testing how far he could take it tonight. A moan escaped her lips, the feeling of being so helpless under his touch just too arousing. So strong-willed while still being so delicate. His grip tightened, restricting her breathing even more. He'd loosen his grip for a second, letting her breathe, just to tighten it again. God, how much he loved seeing her so desperate. Whimpers left her mouth as his grip tightened once again, adrenaline rushing through her body at the sudden loss of oxygen.

His hand that had been caressing her breasts started wandering lower. Moving so slowly that she felt like burning up under his touch, her body aching to feel his hands everywhere at once.

His hand was so close to where she needed his touch, but not close enough. She arched her back, trying to guide his hand between her legs. He was deliberately avoiding touching her pussy, only grazing over it from time to time, his fingers playing with the hem of her pajama shorts. He thrived off of her desperation, enjoyed how her body arched under his hands, loved seeing how addicted she was to his touch.

Once again, his finger slid under the hem of her shorts, inching deeper just the tiniest bit. Her fingers were digging into the belt around her wrists like it was her lifeline; the only thing keeping her from completely melting under his touch.

"Touch me, please," she whimpered, not knowing if he'd listen to her pleas or punish her for being so greedy. He didn't listen. Not yet. He was enjoying her desperation way too much to just give in to her pleas.

His hand kept rubbing over her shorts, going a bit deeper every time, still refusing to touch her the way she wanted him to. Rough fingers left her neck for a moment, both hands gripping her thighs hard as he bent his head down a little, whispering in her ear.