Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Three people died in the car crash. I should have been number four. The doctors didn’t understand how I had survived with all of the blood I had lost. One of the EMTs even mistakenly thought I had died when he felt for my pulse and didn’t find one.
I’m lucky to be alive. That’s what everyone keeps telling me.
But, I don’t know. I’m not so sure. I can still remember how it felt to be dead, to be a spirit, to be engulfed by the possessive energy of that beautiful being and… I don’t know. This, right here. This life… It feels empty and sad compared to how it felt on that bridge.
A growing part of me wishes I could be back there. It wishes I could be back with him.
I keep craving his presence.
“Are you there?” I whisper as I look around my empty apartment.
Silence.
Cold, empty, silence.
I push up with a groan and grab my favorite glass from the cupboard. It’s the little things you miss when you’re stuck away from home like your favorite glass with the large tabby cat dressed in a tuxedo and top hat with the words Classy Cat written on top.
I smile as I fill it with water and then limp into the bedroom. My body feels like it aged ten years in two months. I’m sore and stiff all over. I can feel it deep in my bones.
I grab my iPad out of my bag and bring it into the bedroom. God, I missed that bed…
I stretch out on it with a blissful moan and answer some emails.
Everyone is asking how I’m doing. It’s a bit annoying to always talk about my injuries, but I guess this is my life for now. I’m just excited to go back to the time when I can stroll into work at the veterinary clinic, shoot the shit with Rebecca (that’s not about medical talk), and get on with my life.
The strong medication sludging through my veins is making my eyes heavy. I close them for a second and wake up forty minutes later.
I moan when I feel the presence in the room with me.
“Hello?” I whisper. He doesn’t answer. He never does.
There’s something electric in the air and it’s making the hairs on my arms and on the nape of my neck rise.
My body heats up. My face blushes.
I stretch out my legs under the covers and moan when I feel how wet I am.
This is a feeling I haven’t had in a while… Desire.
Need. Want. Lust.
It disappeared in the crowded sterile hospital bed, but now that I’m home, now that I’m on my own, it’s coming back with a vengeance.
The sensual feeling in the room is spurring me on. I can feel the presence, feel him, watching me with longing.
I’m getting so wet.
I kick off the blankets and can feel his ravenous hunger increasing with every passing second.
What am I doing? Maybe I am crazy.
Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now. Except…
My hand slides down to my nightie and I pull it up to my stomach. I’m wearing nothing underneath and if there is a presence here, he can see everything.
The air gets thicker, warmer. I slide my hand through my hot wetness and moan at the intense feeling.
I close my eyes and picture the hooded figure at the end of my bed, watching me with those possessive eyes.
I don’t know what he is—a guardian angel, a fiction of my imagination, a ghost, a side effect of my medication, but I do know I’m falling for him. I’m becoming obsessed with him. He’s all I can think about.
I explode into shivers as I glide my finger over my soaked clit. “Oh fuck,” I moan as I touch it again and heat shoots through my entire body.
I imagine that it’s his fingers instead, filling me with shivers, making me ache with lust. I rub myself harder, picturing his hands on my pussy lips, picturing him watching me with dark heated eyes, urging me on, desperate to make me come.
He’s here, I know he is. I can’t see him, but I can feel him. I can sense him. He’s standing right in front of me and enjoying the sight of my fingers inside my wet pussy.
My nipples harden and demand some attention as well. I quickly sit up, yank my nightie off, launch it across the room, and then drop back down on my bed, moaning and writhing as my fingers plunge deeper inside me.
“Show yourself,” I moan in desperation. I’m so damn close…
My hand is moving in fast tight circles, rubbing my clit and sending shockwaves of heat through my convulsing body.
“Please,” I moan as I get closer. “I need you here. Show me you’re here…”
The air at the foot of my bed gets all blurry and wobbly.