He gave one last, lingering groan that I felt up my spine before pulling out. He grabbed me and flipped me on my back, kissing me roughly before climbing on top, straddling my needy cock.
“You don’t have to,” I panted. I knew I looked delirious, my eyes barely open. He gripped my cock and sunk on it quickly. I moaned, my body jerking to meet his. My hands quickly settled on his body as he began riding me. I laid below him, holding his hips for dear life as he rode me up and down, his ass sucking me in, clenching when he lifted back up until I was growling and cumming. He ground down on me, moving his hips in circles, making me see white as I finished.
Fuck, Mothman must have taught him that. I'd have to thank him. I groaned, thinking about the cryptid having toteachCaspian to bottom.
He pulled off and then laid on top of me. He was heavy but it was a good weight. His mouth found mine, his tongue pressing mine into submission. He bit my lip and I bit his back. He pulled back and looked down at me, something emotional in his eyes.
“It’s okay. I love her too,” I said.
“She loves you,” he said. I huffed out a laugh and rolled my eyes. What an odd thing for us to say after fucking each other. “And I feel the same,” he whispered, pressing a small kiss to my temple before getting up. I swallowed and stared at the ceiling in shock.
“What?” I finally said, too afraid to look at him.
“I said I love you too,” he said. I was breathing heavily, unable to talk. “And it’s okay,” he parroted in entertainment. “You don’t have to say it. I already know you’ve loved me since the first time you set your eyes on me.” He laughed and I frowned.
“Fuck off. I did not.”
“Mmm,” he hummed in disbelief. I watched his perfect bare ass strut away as he made his way to the bathroom. Fuck me.
EPILOGUE
We pulled up to an abandoned hospital in Terrassa, Spain. We’d flown in yesterday—something I tried to get out of so I could see Caspian and Brandon’s first show as Nixie. Unfortunately, there was no avoiding this trip. It had been planned for a long time.
My mom and Amador had come with us, going on their second honeymoon in his home country. Technically… that made Caspian and me step siblings again. Something he seemed to find quite hilarious.
The hospital in front of me was a massive yellowed adobe beast with a broken terracotta roof. Lines of black holes were what remained of the windows. The place was more like three buildings in one.
The garden leered at us, snuggly tucked between three sides of the building—a courtyard really. In the night, it was a dim shadow and as I stared into the darkness, goosebumps trailed over my arms and up my neck like a lover’s gentle caress.
Instantly, I wanted to turn around and leave but I wouldn’t be walking away. That wasn’t me anymore.
This place was haunted. That garden had become a drop zone for the sick who no longer wished to keep battling their illnesses. The suicide rate had been a concerning and overwhelming thing back when the hospital was still open.
Our car doors snapped shut and I took a deep breath, looking at the monster building in annoyance. Despite being fully committed to ghost hunting, I always had to battle down pre-show jitters. I rubbed at my lost finger.
“Ten more minutes!” Someone barked out in the crowd of tv workers. There were cameramen, personal assistants, lighting crew, sound crew, and more; all haphazardly arranged on cracked concrete, dandelions and grass pushing up between the crevices to reclaim the land. Everyone began moving closer to the front of the house, a sense of urgency ramping up.
My aunt, her crew, and I began filing into the large entrance. The shuffling of shoes against dust and rubble mixed with barked orders and the strain of a showtime countdown.
“You're nervous,” Makwa teased. Suddenly he was behind me, causing everyone to jump. A few people let out curses and shook their heads. They were used to Makwa’s sudden and mysterious arrivals. However, it didn’t make them any less curious or off-put when it happened.
“Want me to hold your hand?” He asked, smiling down at me. I glared and he smiled wider.
Makwa was a fan favorite in the reboot of my aunt’s show. With him around, the show’s popularity had skyrocketed to new heights. Suddenly,Spectral Studieswas a household name.
Everyone was convinced Makwa was a ghost himself but we never confirmed nor denied that, even to the show staff. There were a lot of people who thought it was all an act we did for views. The way he suddenly appeared, how he was always wearing old Native American garb, how his hair floated. There was a lot of heated debate over the subject of Makwa.
We wandered deeper into the hospital. A camera crew followed our progress, pushing lenses in our faces and lighting up our path.
The air was heavy and humid. There was a distasteful stench of rotten fish and stale beer. The hallways stretched with closed rooms. Over-sized buildings like this were my least favorite. Not only because of the tedium of exploration but because the silence always felt larger and the potential for ghosts amplified.
Makwa loved big places, a direct contrast to my own feelings. The bigger the building, the more excited he became. This place was a treasure for him. He’d been giddy for months, talking about how many ghosts must be in the place.
My aunt introduced us. I gave a light smile at one of the cameras and waved. I was a bit of a fan favorite as well. It was hard to tell if that was Makwa’s responsibility or not. It was obvious something was going on between us because he didn’t understand being subtle for the public.
“Oh, Ava,” Makwa groaned sensually. People shot him disturbed looks. “This place is filthy with them. Even more than I could have hoped.”
“Let’s get to it then,” I said, giving a soft chuckle to his excitement.
