Page 27 of Ghost Of You
As she nears her climax, her hands claw at my back, her body arching in desperate pleasure. Her moans become a frantic, rhythmic chant, each cry pushing me to drive my fingers deeper, faster. “Right there,” she cries out, her voice nearly breaking.
Her breath comes in ragged gasps, and I quicken the pace, feeling her body tighten around my fingers. “I’m so close,” she moans, her voice trembling with anticipation.
“Come for me, beautiful. Come around my fingers as they fuck you faster,” I growl between breaths, my own need nearly overwhelming.
Her body responds with an intense shudder as she reaches her peak, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. She clamps down around my fingers, her entire form quivering as she cries out, her release washing over her in waves. I keep my fingers moving, prolonging her pleasure until she finally grabs my hand, pulling it away, her breath coming in frantic gasps.
Without a word, she reaches down and yanks my jeans and boxers off in one swift motion, making my cock spring free. Her eyes light up with a predatory gleam, and she licks her lips, clearly intent on taking control now.
“Your turn,” she breathes heavily, her voice thick with need.
But just as things are about to escalate further, a series of sharp knocks echoes through the house. My heart sinks, and I feel a wave of frustration crash over me.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
I freeze, the intrusion slicing through the charged atmosphere. “Ignore it,” she says, her hand still gripping me, but the irritation is clear in her voice.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
The knocking continues relentlessly, and she shifts, a frown creasing her forehead. “They will go away,” she insists, but her frustration is palpable.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
She sits up, looking at me with a resigned sigh. “Go and answer it,” she says, clearly annoyed.
With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly pull my boxers and jeans back up, fastening them hastily. I storm out of the room and down the stairs, my annoyance growing with each step. I zip my jeans and button them as I move, the urgency of the situation adding to my frustration.
Reaching the front door, I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I yank the door open, only to find Andrea, our elderly neighbour, standing there with a tray of lasagne wrapped in cellophane. Her kind, wrinkled face lights up with a smile that instantly softens my irritation.
“Hi, Andrea,” I manage with a weak smile.
“Hello, lovely. Sorry for knocking, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” she says, her voice as warm as ever.
Despite my annoyance at the interruption, Andrea’s presence has a way of making everything seem better. She and her late husband, Fredrick, had welcomed us into the neighbourhood with open arms. Their kindness had made them like family to us.
Andrea had been our first friend in the neighbourhood, inviting us over for Sunday roasts that had been some of the best we’d ever tasted. When Fredrick passed away two years ago, Andrea had been alone, and we’d done our best to support her, inviting her over for tea and sharing stories of Fredrick.
Hearing footsteps behind me, I turn to see Laelia, now wearing a long t-shirt and bunny slippers, with Meatball, our cat, padding up beside her.
Andrea looks down at Meatball with affection. “Hello, beautiful little boy. Are you looking after your daddy?” she asks, her gaze then returning to me. “I just wanted to bring you something to make sure you’re looking after yourself. I know what it’s like.”
“Know what what’s like?” Laelia asks, her tone a mix of curiosity and irritation.
“Here,” Andrea says, extending the dish towards me, pointedly ignoring Laelia’s question.
I take the tray from her, smiling in appreciation. “Would you like to come in and have some with us?” I offer, but she shakes her head.
“I would love to come and eat with you both,” she says, crouching down to give Meatball a gentle scratch behind the ears. “But I’m going to go visit Fredrick.” She looks up at me with a kind, understanding smile.
“Send him our love,” Laelia calls out as Andrea stands, but Andrea doesn’t acknowledge her.
“If you need anything, Killian, come round and we can have a nice cup of tea,” Andrea says warmly.
“Thank you. We’ll come round for one soon,” I reply, watching as she turns and makes her way back down the path to her own house.
I close the door and turn back to Laelia, who’s looking even more perturbed. “Well, that was rude. She ignored me completely,” she huffs, folding her arms over her chest.
“What did you do to annoy Andrea, to make her ignore you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.