By the time she makes it to the stairs I’m sporting a throbbing erection, the band on my control feeling like it may snap at any moment. I take in a shaky breath and float closer, hovering right behind her, and reach out a hand. I carefully trace a line in the air down her back, barely an inch from actually touching her. She shivers slightly and I force myself to move back a few paces. As she looks around she pulls her full bottom lip into her mouth and bites down and I feel my eyes roll back in my head as I reach out to adjust my now painfully hard cock. When I open my eyes they land on her peaked nipples and I start to pant. I need to get the fuck out of here before I do something I’ll regret. Just as I start to force myself away, Trissa speaks.
“If you’re going to tease me you should know I enjoy a bit of delayed gratification, but usually only after learning someone’s name.”
I freeze, unsure of what to do. I want to talk to her,sweet lord, I want to talk to her, but now that she’s waiting on me I can’t think of anything to say. Nerves have me paralyzed and before I can break the silence she scowls and starts making her way upstairs. Great, now I’ve pissed her off. A small whine escapes me and I follow behind her again with my shoulders slumped, like a dog on a leash. At least that disaster of an almost interaction deflated my boner. As we reach the top of the stairs I let out a deep breath, not realizing how close to Trissa I’ve floated. She looks back, staring right into my eyes and I stop. Time stops, everything stops… and just like that all my nobleintentions go right out the window. The moment is over before I can act but I’m not ready to have it end.
I reach out a hand intending to stop her and a gust of air shoots out of my palm. I stumble for a split second because I’ve never been able to do that before, but when it’s clear that Trissa can feel the air, I grin. A smile as cheeky as any from the Cheshire cat spreads across my face and I quickly stick out my palm again, willing the air to keep coming. Trissa is looking for a bathroom, and I know exactly which room I want her in. Mine.
She looks slightly annoyed, but goes in the direction I’m trying to guide her and excitement courses through me.Good girl. When we get to the door of my room I mentally bid the air to stop and it does. I look at my hands and smile. I can work with this. Trissa walks into my room and the moment she does I choke, because it’s all I can do not to picture her laid out on my bed like a fucking feast. I lick my lips and can almost taste her on my tongue again. I’m pulled from my increasingly inappropriate fantasies when she reaches the bed, eyes wide with wonder, and speaks to me… again.
“Is this room mine, then?” Her smile is hopeful and it’s so fucking adorable that I want to scream ‘yes’ at the top of my lungs. But I don’t. Instead, I raise my hand and send some air at her in the direction of the bathroom. She knows this is where I want her, and now she’s found what she was originally looking for. Double win. I watch with a smile as she squeals and clambers into the tub with her clothes on. I float over to her as she says something about points and watch as she leans her head back, exposing her neck. Her eyes are closed and I keep my body as far away as possible as I float in to lick at the creamy column of her neck. She moans and it goes straight to my cock. In a flash I pull away and float back toward the door, cursing myself as I go.
Trissa climbs out of the tub and walks back toward me and the bag she dropped when she came in. Her sultry voice fills the air around me, taunting me, and I breathe deep trying to capture any trace of her intoxicating scent. She’s playing with fire now, egging me on, and as she reveals her beautiful breasts I can’t stop myself from lunging forward tracing a hand over her chest, careful not to actually touch her skin. I want to bury myself in the valley of her breasts. I want to fucking suffocate in them, which oddly enough is even more appealing when you know doing so can’t kill you. A perk of being already dead.
She tells me that she wants me to make her scream my name the next time she’s in that bath and I groan. Gods, I want that too. I want it now. I lean in trying like hell not to get too close, and blow a quick breath against her neck. A promise. She starts to laugh and I watch in fascination as her mirth jiggles those bountiful breasts. I feel the rubber band getting ready to snap and irritation at myself courses through me in a wave. The lights flicker with my mood and I once again force myself to retreat to the attic.
The day passes by in a blur of activity as the movers come and go and I watch Trissa set about starting to unpack and make phone calls. She seems to be in a good mood through most of it, and I relax into the corner. Spectating is so natural to me now that this simple act makes me feel less on edge for the first time in months. I let out a sarcastic grunt. Cian the spectating specter! Ugh. I’ve played back different scenarios a million times in my head now, wishing I would have just spoken up when she tried to talk with me earlier. The little voice in my mind judging my performance (or lack thereof) is a derisive arse.
I’m working against the pit of nerves in my stomach, trying to build up the courage to interact with her again (and wondering for the millionth time if doing so would be a terrible idea), when I sense a presence I assume is Seth coming from my attic. I take a deep breath and blow it out as I glance longingly at Trissa before phasing upstairs to greet my new friend.
When I reach the attic I look around for Seth, but draw back in shock at the visage in front of me. He’s sat on an old trunk in the corner with his legs crossed… legs! My eyes trail upward and take in his solid frame, he’s got on giant black boots with rows of buckles and dark leather pants. His torso is covered by a sleeveless hoodie, with his arms wrapped in a dark gray fabric that spirals down to his elbow. The rest of his arm is covered in laced-up leather bracers with open-fingered gloves, which makes me pause to take in his skin. It’s pitch black, with a disconcerting swirling effect just under the surface. My eyes shoot to his face and I clear my throat to hide my shock.
He has a face. Well, kind of. The hood from his hoodie is pulled up but set back a bit to show off a swath of inky black locs. His face seems to be made up of two parts—the top half is that of a human skull, which he wears almost like a mask over his dark skin. From the bottom of his nose down it’s the same pitch-black skin with underlying swirls. I move forward impulsively, suddenly fascinated and wanting to get a better look.
“Hey, buddy! If you’re done checking me out I have some news.” Seth’s dark mouth quirks with humor. His eyes which are still whirling blue orbs, the size and shape of a normal eye inside of his sockets, dance with unchecked mirth.
I smirk in his direction and run a hand along the back of my neck in chagrin. “Sorry, Seth.” I pull in a breath and stop before him, that same vaguely familiar mingling of spices playing at my nose. “You have news? Already?”
He sits up and leans forward before answering, “So I spoke with all of my connections and they all came back with the same answer. No witch is gonna help us.”
My shoulders sag in defeat but I nod my head, “That’s okay Seth, thank you for —”
“I’m not done,” Seth glares at me with mock annoyance and I huff. “No witch will help, but there is talk of a necromancer who might.”
I stare blankly at my new, clearly deranged friend. “A necromancer.”
“Yup,” he pops the ‘p’ and I want to smack him and that jolly countenance right off his face.
A fucking necromancer. He’s got to be joking. I’m eternally trapped in a house thanks to a witch I trusted with my life, and he wants me to ask the equivalent of a witch on crack who deals in death for help? Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen. It’s just not worth the risk. Not now, when I have Trissa to make my days tolerable… good, even. A small smile spreads across my lips and I look back at Seth.
“As much as I appreciate the effort, I don’t think that’s something I want to mess around with. What happens if I never complete the ritual? There’s not like some deadline before I poof out of existence is there?”
“… No.” Seth tilts his head as his eyes focus in on me with renewed interest, “but you’ll be stuck in this house forever.”
My stomach sinks with disappointment but it’s not as bitter a feeling as it would have been even just a couple of days ago. “Okay.”
Seth’s eye sockets widen and I wonder at how they can do that if it’s made of bone, as his orbs flash with surprise.
“Well… okay then.” He sits back against the wall and crosses his arms, staring at me all the while. A mischievous grin cracks open his mouth, and I catch a glimpse of dangerously sharp-looking teeth. “Who is she? He?” He purses his lips and I can’t help but let loose a laugh as he continues. “Whose halls are you haunting?”
“Her name is Trissa. She moved in yesterday.” My stomach swoops and I hesitate briefly, suddenly not wanting to share any part of her… even with Seth. “I’m claiming her.”
Seth lifts his hands innocently and shakes with laughter, “She’s all yours, bud. I’m not cut out for romantic crap.” His laughter dies and a pained expression flits over his face so fast I almost think I made it up, but then he sighs, “No point. They all cross over, eventually.”
The mood shifts and I glance at Seth trying to figure out what I should say, or if he even wants me to say anything. Before I can make up my mind Seth jumps up and brushes some of the accumulated dust from the trunk off the seat of his pants.
“As much as I’d love to stay and hold hands while we bond over our dark and twisty feelings, if there’s nothing else, it’s my day off and I have a coffee date with a necromancer to cancel.”
I gape at him before grinding out a response, “You already contacted the necromancer?”
