“Please,” he said, whimpering and bucking gently against my hand.
I slipped my fingers under the waistband of his underwear, snapping them once against his torso. The skin there was the last corporeal part of him, any happy trail sadly vanishing into ghostly fog and hiding under his shirt. When I slid my fingers down into the briefs again, he whined and leaked precum, making a little wet spot on the fabric.
My rational brain was trying to make an appearance and figure out how all this worked — could he take his shirt off, or did he have to be corporeal to do that? Did he feel things the same way we did, when that part of his body was solid?
I shut it down.
Didn’t matter. All I cared about at the moment were the actions. What I was doing and what he was doing, because he was sure as hell enjoying it. I’d read more about ghost logistics later. Fuck, I’d done plenty of research already but had never quite grasped how they worked. How was I to know I’d be getting up close and personal with one?
“C-can you please touch me?” he asked, staring down at me with wide eyes.
While I’d been thinking, my fingers had stilled less than a centimetre away from his cock. I grinned. “Since you’re begging so sweetly.”
“I’m not—”
He didn’t finish because I shoved down his underwear and revealed his length. Uncut and blessedly normal sized, compared to Kirin and Bennett. The head was pink and leaking, the rest of the skin darker than the tan tone of his hips. I wrapped my hand around him and stroked once, getting a feel for the weight in my palm. Zan groaned, his legs trembling.
Another ghost thing I didn’t understand. He wasn’t technically standing, so were his legs trembling from the effort of standing while being touched, or simply because he was getting pleasured?
Stroking him a few more times, he jerked against me and I clucked my tongue. “Uh uh. Stay still for me.”
To my surprise, I didn’t give him the order because his movement had scared me. It was because I liked it when he listened. This dominant streak had been hiding deep inside me, but I couldn’t stop myself from entertaining it in this house.
“Yes. OK. Still,” he said, each word a struggle.
I chuckled and increased the speed of my hand. My attention was focused on his cock, our bodies pressed closely together without quite touching. It had been a long time since I’d given a hand job, and typically I had something else to do. A kiss to focus on. His warm hands touching me, or our bodies pressing together. This was different, since there was only the one thing, no other skin available for me to touch.
My singular focus allowed me to note his reactions and adjust my touches accordingly. There were no frenzied touches, getting him off any way I could because I was so desperate for him. This was calculated and calm. I might prefer it this way.
“I don’t think I’m going to last long,” Zan said.
His eyelids were squeezed shut, body wound tight as he staved off the orgasm. “You don’t have to hold back, but you have to look at me when you come.”
Eyes snapping open to stare at me, his plump lips parted. I stroked him at the same pace, running my hand down his length a few more times. His hips gave one jolt forward and his release spilled over my hand, dripping down to the floor. He cried out loud enough to wake Abraxas downstairs, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head.
I didn’t remove my hand from him until he was well and truly spent, body pulling away as he whimpered. Then I lifted my fingers to my mouth and licked one, humming softly. “Ghost cum tastes like normal cum, how about that,” I said.
The white glow around his cheeks was stronger than ever. I’d assumed my statement was correct before I’d tested the theory, but I wouldn’t miss a chance to fluster him. “I am ultimately j-just a human.”
Not true, but my immense ghost knowledge could wait for when he wasn’t basking in the afterglow. “Did you like that?”
“Yes,” he said, hesitating. “Were you scared of me?”
“No. Not once I got past the initial fear you saw. You’re the farthest thing from scary. Watching your expression when you came helped.”
I wasn’t exaggerating. Whenever I looked at him, I wouldn’t be able to picture anything else. How could I fear someone who looked sweet and wrecked from a mere hand job?
“I’m, um, glad I could be of service?”
Laughing, I let him clean himself up, his torso going foggy and intangible once again. My hand was messy, so I stepped into the unused bathroom off the empty living room and ran it under some water, wiping my clean hand on my shirt to dry it. When I exited again, Zan was hovering nervously beside the window, like he thought I’d change my mind and scream while running away from him when I saw him again.
He still backed up when I neared him, but I didn’t stop him. I leaned against the wall beside the window, looking out at the rapidly darkening day and knowing I likely only had a few more minutes before my untimely death. I may as well use those minutes to get to know him, before my heart rate kicked up again when I was brought back to the morning.
“How did you get here, Zan? You’re not the type of ghost I’d expect to be locked up.”
“Um…” He let the filler sit in the air, biting his lip. I hadn’t thought the question was a hard one.
“Is it because you still have your mage magic?”
