A filthy part of him was almost sad that you had dropped it there after you had washed it, but still, that thong wouldn't get back to you that easily. He hated you for it; he hated that he was running straight into one of your little traps, but once again, his mind was filled with dirty ideas as he held the delicate lace in his big hands. He looked down at it as he palmed himself through his jeans with his free hand, his belt hitting the floor just a few seconds later.
The last time he felt this desperate and pathetic must have been during puberty. It was embarrassing what you were doing to him, but God, he never wanted you to stop. His thoughts were so needy and so depraved that he was sure that they were seeping through the walls and that you knew what he was doing while he took his cock out of his boxers.
You'd probably enjoy that, he thought to himself. You'd look at him with your dirty little grin while he sat there all desperate, panting as he stroked himself with your thong in his hand as if it was the closest he'd ever get to feeling your body. He was not proud of the images that went through his head as he came, his release covering the delicate lace while he wished to mark your body with it instead.
Anger and shame washed over him as he went to the bathroom, washing the evidence of his stupidity off of his hands and your thong before he managed to look at himself in the mirror. He knew that it would never be enough; no amount of pathetically jacking off would be a substitute for you. And the fact that this was exactly what you wanted made him even angrier.
You wanted him hungry for you and your body, so hungry that he'd shove all rational thinking aside, and so far, everything was going according to your plan.
When you walked into the kitchen the next morning, Ghost stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter, his balaclava shoved up while he was sipping on a glass of whiskey.
At 10 in the morning.
It must have been a tough night for him, you thought to yourself with a grin.
"Interesting choice of breakfast," you commented, gesturing at the glass. You could almost feel the tension in the air, could see how hard his fingers gripped that glass.
"I'm—uhm, I'm missing a thong. It's black and lacy. Did you see it?" You asked him with the most innocent expression on your face. His eyes got a bit wider for a fraction of a second, so quick that you wouldn't have caught it if you hadn't been watching him like a hawk.
"No. And I've seen the garbage dump you call your room; maybe you wouldn't lose your stuff if you would clean it up for once," he snarled before downing the rest of his whiskey.
He was trying to act like nothing had happened, like he hadn't defiled the piece of fabric last night while thinking of you.
"I need to buy new stuff anyway," you interrupted his thoughts, ignoring that he once again tried to be mean to you, as if it would help him fight the attraction he felt towards you.
"Since I'm not allowed to go anywhere alone, and you're my bodyguard... Would you be so kind to go to the mall with me?" You looked at him with a big smile. It wasn't like he had a choice, your father paid him good money to never leave your side, and that involved going to the mall with you.
He slowly exhaled, placing his empty glass on the counter before he went to get his jacket. He cursed Price for sending him on this mission, but maybe he deserved exactly that; maybe he deserved your wicked personality that seemed to wrap itself around his neck like a boa constrictor, slowly but surely suffocating him. Ghost opened the door for you, holding it open while he waited for you to follow him.
"Being a real gentleman today," you giggled, taking your purse as you walked to the car with him. Like all the bodyguards before him, he got the keys to one of your father's cars in case you had to go somewhere.
You had your own license, but Ghost didn't know that, so you could enjoy being the passenger princess for the day. If you had known how bad of a driver Ghost was, you would have driven yourself.
The drive to the mall was a short one. There wasn't much traffic, and the Mercedes had all the driving assistance software that one could want, and still, you were thankful that you came out of that car alive as you arrived at the mall. Ghost seemed like he was content with his driving skills, and you wondered if he had just beaten the examiner up during his driving test, forcing him to hand him his license.
"You have to help me pick the clothes out. And you don't mind holding my stuff while I'm in the changing room, am I right?" You half asked, half ordered as you got out of the car. The mere thought of Ghost being forced to go shopping with you was enough to make you gleam with excitement.
You liked having him around, like how the men in the mall didn't even dare look at you as he walked next to you, tall and imposing. Ghost wasn't surprised that everyone averted their gaze to the floor as you walked past; anyone dumb enough to look at you the wrong way or try to talk to you would be missing from that mall tomorrow.
Being so possessive about you wasn't part of his job, but he couldn't help himself.
