You’d think I’d scared her half to death. However, I know fear when I see it and that wasn’t just fear. That was confusion and heat all tangled up together under her skin.
Watching her after, following her through the dark. Far enough back to stay hidden, but close enough to drink in every shiver. She was rattled. She kept looking over her shoulder acting as if she wanted to catch me, just to prove she wasn’t imagining things.
Her whole demeanor was a mess of contradictions. The shock was written all over her face but there was something else there also. I saw it in the way her hands trembled around that stupidcup, the way her breath hitched when I touched her. Excitement mixed with confusion. God… I want her to be confused. Ineedher to crave it. That line between terror and hunger, all sharp and raw. I’d give nothing more than to watch her fall apart trying to decide if she wants to run from me or straight into me.
She will.Déanfaidh mé cinnte de.(I’ll make sure of it.)
Her house isn’t what I expected. It’s small, tucked quietly out of the way, though there are neighbours close enough that they could hear through open windows. The roof sags slightly at the center, and the pink paint, which was once cheerful, has faded to the colour of old rose petals, cracked and peeling in places where the sun hits hardest.
A narrow path leads up to her door, uneven slabs of concrete framed by overgrown grass. The grey curtains are drawn halfway, as if undecided about letting in the light.
Everything about this place feels suspended, as though it's waiting. It's quiet but not peaceful; there’s a heaviness in the air.
A light flickers on. I freeze. I shouldn’t be here. However, the thought of leaving feels impossible. The sight of her silhouette against the window pulls at me, that same magnetic ache I can’t shake.
Eager to be as close as I can. I press into the shadows outside her window. She has no idea I followed her all the way home, and that I’m right here now, close enough to count the freckles on her skin if I wanted to.
Christ, she’s breathtaking. Every little thing she does makes my mouth water. I’m practically drooling as I watch her move around her room,doiléir(oblivious.)
With her silver hair swaying like a promise, she starts stripping off her clothes. Piece by piece until she’s standing in nothing but a scrap of black lace. My breath lodges in my throat so hard it almost hurts. I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to muffle the guttural groan that slips out.
She’s absolutely perfect. My cock twitches, pressing painfully against my zipper. I lean my forehead against the cold glass as every muscle in my body coils so tight it feels as though I’m going to snap in half. God, I want to climb through this window, pin her against that bed, and feel every inch of her soft skin under my hands. I’d give anything to bury my face in her hair and taste the salt on her neck. My heartbeat thunders so loud in my ears it drowns out every rational thought.
Determined to hold it together, I grind my teeth until my jaw aches. Forcing myself to breathe slowly. In through my nose, out through clenched teeth. I’m hanging on the edge, internally battling with myself as to whether to push her window through. One push, and I’d be inside, on top of her, giving in to everything I’ve been starving for.
Not yet. Not tonight,I tell myself. For now, I’ll just watch, let the wanting burn hotter, sharper. Make it hurt so good I can’t think of anything but her, because when I do take her, when she finally sees me standing right in front of her, close enough to touch. She’ll know exactly how deep this hunger runs.
Her ass does this little wiggle and that’s it. That tiny, careless movement snaps the last thread of control I’ve got left. My cock aches, begging me to lose what’s left of my mind.
God, I shouldn’tbut I can’t fucking help myself. I slip my hand down, sliding down the zipper and freeing my cock. The first touch makes me shudder so hard my breath fogs the glass. My eyes stay glued to every inch of her soft, perfect body. I try to start slow. However, it’s pointless, my mind’s already halfway inside her. I imagine that wiggle pressed against me, her perfect ass grinding, while I drag her back onto my cock, over and over, until she’s too wrecked to stand.
Overwhelmed with need, I spit into my palm and pump faster. Clenching my teeth so tight my jaw creaks. A low, feral sound claws its way up my throat, and I bite down on my lip, hard, until I taste blood. Anything to keep myself from groaning like a fucking animal outside her window with my fist tight around my cock. She’d scream if she saw me,or maybe… she wouldn’t.I’d give anything to see her drop to her knees, opening that pretty mouth. I’d have her choking on my cock until I’m buried so deep, she forgets how to breathe.
The coil pulls tighter, heat boiling up my spine until my vision whites out at the edges. My fist is slick now, working my length harder and faster. All I can see is her bent over for me, dripping.Fucking mianach.(Fucking mine.)
The sound that tears out of me is savage, too loud for this quiet street. I clamp my free hand over my mouth as hot ropes spill over my knuckles, and for a second, I see red behind my tightly closed eyes.
Stunned by what I’ve just done, by how fucking easy it was to lose myself, I stand frozen for a moment. My forehead still pressed to the now fogged up glass, as I catch my breath. My heart punching at my ribs.
The red fades so I force my eyes open, dragging in a lungful of air as though it might steady me.It doesn’t. When I look back through the window, there she is. My beautiful little ghost talker, curled up in her bed, her chest rising and falling so soft and slow. Sleeping like an angel.
I know I need to leave. I should take the dirty evidence of what I just did and melt back into the night. Let her dream in peace, any sane man would. Still… I can’t. There’s something holding me here. Something invisible and unbreakable that’s got its claws in me.
My nails dig into the window frame until they ache. I haven’t had enough of her, not tonight.Not ever.I watch the slow flutter of her eyelashes, the way she shifts under the blanket as if she can sense me. As if some part of her wants me to watch. Maybe in her dreams she knows I’m here, waiting. Keeping her safe in my own twisted way.
Restless, I think about just staying out here, camping out under her window, but the thought curdles in my gut almost immediately. She’s right there, close enough to touch, and I’m done staring through glass.Caithfidh mé a bheith istigh.(I need to be inside.)
Before I can talk myself out of it, I'm at her front door with my Swiss Army knife in my shaking hand. I work the tiny pickon the lock with practiced care, the same way as some kind of professional, though in truth I learned it from videos online. My pulse roars in my ears so loud I’m sure it’ll wake the whole damn street. The click when it gives is so quiet, but to me it’s like thunder.
Just in case I need a quick escape,if it comes to that,I leave the door on the latch behind me. Part of me already knows I won’t run, not unless she wants me to.
The second I step inside; her sweet scent sends my pulse racing. The taste of caramel and blackberries makes my mouth water. My cock twitches so hard I nearly groan out loud. The greedy fucker straining against my zipper again so soon, as though it can taste her too.
Each step deeper into her house winds me tighter. The air hums with her, her breath, her warmth. The adrenaline sizzles under my skin, blending with the raw hunger that’s been eating me alive since the first time I laid eyes on her.
You wouldn’t believe it but I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve never broken in anywhere, never risked it all for a taste of something forbidden.Tá sé ar fheabhas.(It’s fucking thrilling.)
A sick part of me, the part that’s got its claws in my spine, wants her to wake up. I want her to come padding down the hallway, sleepy, only to find me standing in the dark, her worst nightmare come to life.
