CHAPTER 3 Pleasured By a Ghost
Axle's POV
As soon as the door clicks shut behind us.
I turn.
And my breath hitched.
Katrina still stood just feet away, chest rising and falling, a soft halo of light catching in her hair. Her eyes find mine… those unmistakable, haunting eyes and the world falls out from under me.
Katrina.
Every instinct, every memory, every ache I've ever buried comes roaring to life. She's not supposed to be here. She can't be. But she is. And she's looking at me like I'm the only man in the universe.
I take a single step.
Then another.
She doesn't flinch. Doesn't move.
God help me.
I reach for her like a starving man. My hands slide into her hair, down her back, across skin that shouldn't exist anymore but feels all too real.
And when I kiss her… it's not gentle.
It's desperate.
Hungry.
Explosive.
Our mouths crash together with a heat that singes. She kisses me back just as fiercely, her nails clawing into my shirt, dragging me closer until there's no space left between us. Her breath is quick, erratic, fanning across my face as I growl her name into her mouth.
"Katrina…"
She whimpers. That sound… it wrecks me.
My hand fumbles behind her, slamming into the wall as I pin her there, grinding my hips into hers. She gasps as I nip her lower lip, then deepen the kiss until we're devouring each other. I'm losing my mind.
I lift her.
Her legs wrap around me instinctively as I carry her to the bed, our lips still fused, our hearts hammering in sync. We fall hard into the mattress. I hover above her, panting, eyes locked with hers.
"I've missed you," I say, voice raw.
Her hands yank my shirt up, nails dragging over my ribs. I tear the damn thing off and throw it aside.
My mouth descends on her neck, her collarbone, down the soft plane between her breasts. She arches up, a moan tearing from her throat as I explore her like a man possessed.
She tastes like fire and something sweet. It's intoxicating. She shivers when my tongue brushes the curve of her breast. I feel the tremble of her thighs as I kiss my way down.
Her scent hits me first.
Then the heat of her.
I groan and bury my face between her legs, licking deep, slow, precise. Her body jolts, hips lifting, fingers threading tightly into my hair.
I drag my tongue in firm strokes, then suck her clit just once and her whole body clenches.
"A-Ahhh.. fuckkkk" she gasps, the sound breathless, almost broken.
I don't stop. I press deeper, faster, fingers sliding inside her as I work her with my mouth. Her legs quake around my shoulders.
She's loud now.. uninhibited moans echoing against the walls, one hand over her mouth trying to stifle the scream that threatens to break free.
When I pull away, her body is flushed and shaking. Her eyes find mine, wide and glassy with lust and disbelief.
I slide up, kissing her hard.
We moan into each other's mouths… wet, needy, mindless.
And then, without warning, I rub the tip of my cock against her clit So fast.
She gasps, hips jerking. Her breath catches.
And I push in.
Hard.
She screams… a sound of pain and ecstasy and arches beneath me. Her nails sink into my back. I grunt, gripping the headboard for leverage as I start to move.
Then I thrust in.
I went slow at first, then i go faster. Harder. My hips slam into hers with violent precision, our sweat-slick bodies crashing together in pure, feral rhythm.
Every moan, every gasp, every slap of skin echoes like a song of resurrection.
She digs her heels into my back, meeting me thrust for thrust, her lips brushing mine in broken kisses. I grip her hips and drive deeper, deeper until her body trembles around me and I feel her tighten and about to cum.
"Katrina… fuck…" I groan as we shatter together.
Her moan is long, drawn out, spine bowed as her orgasm tears through her. I fall with her, panting into the crook of her neck, our bodies heaving, our sweat mingling, our souls colliding in the dark.
And for one blinding moment, it feels like time has forgiven us
"I love you Katrina, I have always loved you and I will always love you" after I whispered those words i let the sleep drown me.
The shrill buzz of my phone slices through the haze in my head.
I groan and grope for it on the nightstand, nearly knocking over a half-empty glass of water in the process.
"Yeah," I croak, rubbing at my eyes.
"Sir?" It's Mrs. Fields, my housekeeper. "I'm sorry to bother you, but Liam's been asking for you. He's been crying since he woke up."
I sit up slowly, my head pounding like a war drum. "Put him on."
The phone rustles. Then a small, sniffly voice fills my ear. "Daddy?"
"Hey, buddy." My heart squeezes. "What's wrong?"
"I wanted to show you my drawing before Teacher Abigail comes."
Guilt crashes over me.
"I'm sorry, champ. I…I'll be home before your lesson ends, and I'd take you to get some ice cream okay?."
"Okay," he whispers.
"I love you, Liam."
"Love you too."
The call ends, and I sink back into the pillows.
Christ.
I barely drink, but last night I'd blown past my usual limit. Now my head feels like it's full of crushed glass. I drag a hand down my face, then pause.
The other side of the bed is empty.
No rumpled sheets. No warmth. No trace of—
Her.
Last night… I saw her.
Katrina.
My heart clenches.
She was there. On the dance floor. Laughing, moving like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like she hadn't died.
I kissed her.
I touched her.
I…
But that can't be right.
She's gone. Katrina is gone.
So who the hell was in this bed with me?
I scan the room but no heels, no perfume lingering in the air, no handbag left behind.
Was I hallucinating?
I try to replay it in my head, her eyes, her voice but everything's blurred. I remember the kiss, yes. The feeling of her body pressed against mine. Then darkness.
And now this silence.
Maybe it was just a cruel trick of the alcohol.
Maybe I imagined it all because I wanted so badly to see her again.
I drag myself out of bed and groan. No use tormenting myself. Whoever she was, real or not… she's gone now.
And I have a promise to keep.
First, I go home to my son.
Then, maybe, I forget last night ever happened.
If I can.