[1] Midnight Lips | Ghost

𝐂𝐇. 28

VALENTINA
༻❁༺

     I couldn't stop staring at my fingertip doing circles on Simon's chest even though my eyelids felt heavy with tiredness and begged me to close them for some rest. But giving myself that privilege meant that I had to get out of this comfy bed and warm arms, and walk across the hallway to my uncomfy bed and cold sheets.

Simon, too, was brushing my shoulder in soft lines, where he had bitten so hard it had left me a tiny mark. I didn't mind at all, having something from him that reminded me how good it felt. On the other hand, Simon was distressed. He'd already apologized four times in a row now, told me he didn't find it quite satisfying, that he didn't like it and hated being the reason for hurting me and marking me—and I apologize again, darling.

"Can't sleep?" I asked after a few minutes of silence, tilting my head up on his chest to meet his eyes.

"No," he said, finally dropping his hand from my shoulder. He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, frowning lost in thought.

"Is it because I am still here?" My voice was soft and gentle, lacking security even though I wasn't an insecure person. But I knew I wasn't invited to spend the night. I wasn't supposed to want to fall asleep in Simon's arms. I was only invited to fuck and expected to leave after it was over... right?

Simon met my eyes. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" His eyes fell back to my shoulder and I almost laughed. I leaned my chin on his chest. "Oh, come on, Simon. Stop it."

"It's not that either," he huffed, and I caught the lie when he looked away.

Sure, it wasn't. I laughed softly and slid my leg over his hip, getting on top of him. I leaned down and pressed a kiss on his hard pec—trying to push down the idea of kissing every inch of his body—only to open my mouth and bite him down to show him how little of a deal it was.

His hands shot out to grip my hips, and a low groan came from deep down his throat as his neck arched ever so slightly. I pulled back, not before darting my tongue out and licking the spot to ease the pain.

He coughed, "Goddamnit, Val, I was over it before. I don't think I am anymore."

I laughed, and the way his eyes lit up with satisfaction told me that was his end goal. Still, all I noticed was Simon calling me by my nickname and the butterflies it gave me. "You called me Val."

He paused for a second, his hands stroking my lower back. "I didn't notice."

"It's not the first time you do."

"Really?" He actually sounded surprised, and I wondered if he didn't notice those times either. "Does it bother you?"

"No." I laid down on his warm chest, and played with the edge of his mask, ignoring the way his hands twitched as if he didn't trust my hands being too close to his face. "I like it. You should call me that from now on."

"Just like you should call me Ghost?"

"But I like your name," I complained. He didn't respond. His fingers caressed their way up my thighs and spine, and then brushed down, sending different types of feelings throughout my body that seemed to be awakening the hunger in me more and more.

It also feels like that feeling of the evening breeze caressing your spine after you've just gotten out of the pool to watch the sunset.

But I couldn't get it out of my head. The reason he wanted to be called Ghost, that was. So I sat up once again to meet his eyes, and asked, "Why Ghost?"

"It's not something I want to talk about." His answer was instantly, fast, like he already knew I was going to ask that.

"Now or ever?"