|

ISBN:
978-1-906811-06-8
m/m, paranormal
Publisher: Total E-Bound
Publisher URL:
http://www.total-e-bound.com/
Buy Now
Ghost of a
Chance
#2 at
Total E-Bound's Fictionwise Page
From
Chapter One
Silken softness wrapped around his
cock, sucking gently, exquisitely.
Robert shifted. Rolling onto his
back, he stretched his legs out, barely conscious of
being in bed, not really awake.
Wet suction pulled at his shaft. A
tongue slid over the crown of his cock, the tip delving
into the slit. His thighs eased open.
Yes, a dream. That’s what it is. A
wet dream, a fantasy—a disembodied mouth, tongue, lips,
teeth, all there just for his pleasure.
The suction eased, the lips barely
skimming over his shaft—up and down, up and down. His
hips twitched, his buttocks clenched, his thighs
tightened. He splayed his knees wider. A tongue moved
wetly up his shaft again. The sensation faded.
Excitement waned. He fell into deeper
sleep.
A face appeared—dark hair tousled,
thick brows with one arched more then the other,
sideburns longer than fashionable. The nose had a bump
in the middle. Eyes—brown, wide open, framed with
beautifully long lashes—watched him. Lips—thick, moist,
kissable—opened.
Robert’s hips moved, churned his ass
into the bed. Soft sheets brushed against his shaft and
its head wept and stuck to the material.
He reached for himself. A squeeze, a
tug. He sighed and his slumber again deepened.
The beautiful, handsome face
vanished, but the mouth remained. Lips, tongue, brushed
the thick dome of his cock.
His balls shifted, moving up closer
to his body. He clenched his ass. In sync, his hips
rose, pushing his cock shaft further in.
Taking his hand off his cock, he
reached lower and cupped the soft, nearly hairless sac
below. Holding it, he pulled down on the two
walnut-sized orbs.
He relaxed, his sleep deepened again.
Time passed.
“You like that, don’t you, my love?”
a soft masculine voice whispered huskily.
“Yes,” he hissed. Or I thought I did. Am I speaking?
Am I dreaming? Does it matter?
The slickness of a mouth returned,
nipping at the flesh along the length of his cock.
His shaft thickened instantly, if it
ever actually had deflated at all. He was hard. He
wanted to fuck.
He dreamed. The face was back. Thick
lashes rose, revealing lust-filled, dark eyes looking up
at him. The nose, a little too sharp at the tip, brushed
his pubes as the mouth descended, taking him in to the
hilt. Grunting, he basked in the feel of that lovely,
soft, wet mouth engulfing his cock. The head touched,
rubbed against the back of a throat.
“Yes,” he hissed again. Or is it the first time?
He shuddered, reached for the face,
connected with…nothing, air, sheets. His fingers slipped
over the cool silk fabric, gripped, clenched and held
tight while his cock was lavished with gulping pleasure.
A chin nudged his ball sac, pushing
the magic orbs to and fro. He arched his back, his
fingers and toes curled tight, he was aching for
release—half-asleep, half-awake, breathless with lust.
The face vanished. The mouth
abandoned him.
Robert sat up. One of his hands
rested on the bed behind him, supporting him, the other
moved to his stomach. His cock pulsed against his palm.
Glancing around, he peered into the corners, along the
walls, the window shades drawn tight. He was alone.
He was fucking hard, needed to come.
He was exhausted.
Peering at the clock on the bedside
table, he saw the arms pointing at the three and the
ten. It wasn’t ten fifteen.
Sagging, he fell back on the pillow. Too old for a
wet dream, he told himself. Too tired to finish. Still
he reached down and cupped himself, sighing. His
thoughts wandered to the dream of the face, the mouth,
those deep brown, smouldering eyes.
He sighed with pleasure.
Weird dreams. Fuck me dreams. Where’d
they come from? His thoughts faded into nothing.
“Open your legs. Let me suck you,”
the deep, masculine voice whispered.
He eased his knees apart, pushing his
toes against the bundled sheets, spreading his legs
comfortably wide. A shiver of pleasure raced up his
spine. He slid his hands down to his sac.
“Yeah,” he murmured, more asleep than
awake. His balls shifted.
A mouth engulfed the head of his
cock. He didn’t have to move, he knew it, trusted his
knowing. He simply lay there and enjoyed the wet
suckling of his glans and the silken tongue delving into
the oozing slit. His ass cheeks clenched. His anus
itched. He wanted…something.
The face was there, the dark eyes
peering up at him. Amused, teasing.
His cock pulsed, the head battering
at the back of a throat, that man’s throat, swallowed,
squeezed, released, deliciously held again on its way
into his gullet.
A finger slipped back between his ass
cheeks, searching, delving for the dark, moist hole
nestled between his glutes. The digit slowly eased
inside.
Groaning, he flexed his butt, his excitement growing,
yet still he half-slumbered. A dream, it has to be a
dream.
“Yes, you like this. You always liked
it up the ass.” The smooth, masculine voice crept into
his sub-conscious, pushing his excitement up a notch.
He wanted to shift, to push his hips
up, to bury the deliciously wicked digit deeper into his
hungry ass. Sweat trickled down his ribs. He felt that,
or dreamed it.
“My sweet Daniel, let me fuck you the
way we both love it,” the voice droned.
Who is Daniel?
* * *
I hope you enjoyed
your sneak peek. Ghost of a Chance available for
purchase here
Buy Now
|