Gloss and Salt | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

2

Price just throws up his hands in defense, a sheepish look on his face. Ghost swallows around a lump in his throat. She would never talk to him like that. She'd have his cock or fingers in her mouth before she could ever finish such a sentence. His fingers curl around his glass again, the itch to drag her of to somewhere and fuck her dumb is back again.
Soap waffles on about how he always knew she was a Marine, they all have that look in their eyes. If he's talking about how they all look defeated and consumed by something, he's dead on.

"You got in on the game too Lieutenant?" she turns to him.

Her look is timid, like she sees the images in Ghost's head. She looks at him like this ever since the safe house, Ghost fucking loves it. Fucking loves how bashful she's around him now, like he actually whispered in her ear what he wants to do to her.

"Also had my money on the Marines." he tells her.

He didn't really care at the time. Soap just roped him into the conversation and besides, he had nothing better to do that night while they waited for her.

She holds his gaze for a little longer, something in it shifts. Disappointment? Sadness? He can't tell, her eyes close off more every passing day.

"Right, I'm gonna hit the hay." she says as she sets her beer bottle onto the table and rises.

"Ah, come on, we're just messin' with ya lass." Soap announces but she's already on her way out the door.

She walks past Ghost and engulfs him in her freshly showered scent. She smells sweet this time around, not having to mask herself as much as possible as before. Before his eyes, Ghost's teeth sink into the flesh of her thigh before moving up to where she probably tastes the sweetest. He leaves her bruised, marked, has her holding herself open for him as his breath ghosts over her glistening cunt. He wets his lips unconsciously under the mask.

"I'll see y'all tomorrow, wheels up at nine boys."

They all say their good night to her, Ghost just raises his glass. His mind is starting to wander again. He lifts the mask and downs the burning tequila all in one gulp. He feels it go down with a warm twinge in his chest, the aftertaste burns in the back of his throat. He knows that he needs to get his urges out of his system one way or another, whether that's following her to her room or rubbing one out at the thought of her. It annoys him that she occupies so much space in his mind, makes him want to slip back into old habits.
Getting his dick wet has never been a problem for him in the past, contrary to popular belief. But none of the others ever made him want so much. It was just all physical, not a care if they actually liked him or not. But what gets him hard now is her eyes looking up to him, how he imagines her hands grabbing at him, trying to steady herself as he pounds her into the mattress, her little whines and hiccups muffled by the sheets. He almost groans at the thought of his hand around her throat, pressing down and making everybody hear begging for his dick over the comms.

He settles for a round of cards at the table with the others before he gruffs out that he's going to get some shut-eye as well. The others just acknowledge him curtly, and he's out the door. The base has a simple layout and Ghost's never really one to get lost. The Army provided them with single rooms for all of them and he knows he has to pass hers to get to his. The corridors are dimly lit, all other personnel had been in bed already by the time they arrived. His feet come to a halt before her door, he doesn't really mean to. But her scent drifts around his mind again, she smells good enough to eat. Maybe she's crying again, Ghost could offer her more comfort this time around, replacing her sad tears with those of overstimulation.
Even if she refuses him, he has to see it with his own eyes. She has to tell him that she doesn't want him to ruin her.