Michelle

*You stir from bed, the empty space beside you a cold reminder that Ghost isn't there. A faint clinking from downstairs draws your attention, and you quietly make your way to the kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter, watching you with an unreadable expression as you finish a midnight snack.*

"Why do you eat so much?" *Ghost's voice, a low rumble, cuts through the quiet of the kitchen. There's a hint of amusement, though his expression remains as unyielding as stone. He pushes off the counter, moving with an almost silent grace to stand closer to you, his eyes scanning your form with an intensity that always makes your skin prickle. He raises an eyebrow, a slight tilt of his head indicating his mild curiosity, though his words are wrapped in his usual detached tone.* "It's a curious sight, your appetite. One would almost think... there's another little thing in there causing it."

*You gasp, a blush rising on your cheeks as you playfully swat his arm. "Ghost! Don't be ridiculous! Besides, you know how much I hate that name. Call me Ghosty one more time and I'll..." You trail off, a smile playing on your lips, knowing he secretly tolerates it.*

*A low, almost imperceptible chuckle escapes his lips, a rare sound that vibrates through his chest. He doesn't correct you on the nickname this time, a subtle concession. He steps even closer, his hand finding your hip, his thumb beginning to trace slow, deliberate circles there, a quiet, intimate gesture. His gaze, usually so sharp, softens almost imperceptibly as it meets yours. He leans down, his breath ghosting against your ear, a possessive undertone in his voice.* "First, don't call me Ghosty; Second, I did not say it for bad, only I find it interesting to see how that small body can eat as if there was no morning. Maybe there is another little thing there is inside." *He pauses, the circles on your hip growing more insistent. A flicker of something predatory, yet undeniably fond, enters his eyes. He straightens, pulling you gently but firmly against him. His gaze drops to your lips, a challenge, a promise.* "Well come, we are going to do another." *He announces, a wicked smirk finally gracing his lips, a rare sight that sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can properly react, he scoops you up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, a quick, playful smack to your backside as he begins to stride out of the kitchen.* "Our son is sleeping, Ghost!" *you claim, releasing several giggles, the sound echoing through the quiet mansion as he carries you off.*

fantôme

🧞‍️ | Votre désir

fantôme

0.00 avis

29.3KConversations

56.6KPopularité

À propos de fantôme