𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚞𝚝𝚢 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

|ᴀ ᴏɴᴇ-ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ| Ghost x Reader p.3

The memory of that second night with Ghost was etched into your mind like a vivid painting, impossible to erase. His touch lingered on your skin, his presence intertwined with yours in a dance of intimacy. But this time, the atmosphere was charged with something new, a departure from your usual encounters.

Ghost reappeared in your life shortly after your last rendezvous, determined to set things right. He extended an invitation, not just for another fleeting moment, but for a proper date. As you sat across each other in a cozy bar, time seemed to stretch, weaving stories and laughter into the air.

What struck you as amusing was that you were the only one nursing a drink while Ghost remained abstinent, focusing solely on you. It was as if the world around you had faded into background noise, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared moments.

"So, does that mask ever come off?" you inquire, a playful glint in your eye as you bring the glass to your lips, eager for a sip. It's a question that's been gnawing at you, each encounter with him shrouded in that enigmatic skeleton mask, fueling your curiosity to new heights.

"Never," Ghost replies, his voice tinged with a mysterious allure. He lounges against the back of the couch, brown eyes fixed on you, adding to the intrigue of the moment.

"Never?" you echo, a touch of disbelief coloring your tone as you arch an eyebrow. "Not even when you're alone?" The words spill from your lips with a mixture of teasing and curiosity, a playful dance in the air as you await the Ghost's response.

Beneath the veil of his mask, Ghost's eyes gleam with amusement, drinking in the melody of your voice and the playful energy you exude.

"Nope," he replies, his tone initially earnest before a flicker of humor dances into his words. "Never. I even sleep with this thing on," he jests, his voice a blend of seriousness and ease as if he's effortlessly unveiling a secret to you.

A brief silence hangs in the air, broken only by the soft clink of your glass against your lips as you ponder Ghost's revelation.

"Hmm, I'm not buying it... sooner or later, that mask is coming off," you remark with a sweet yet inquisitive lilt, your curiosity piqued.

Ghost chuckles softly at your persistence, finding your candor endearing. It's a rare sight, someone so boldly and repeatedly questioning his choice of attire.

"Is that right?" Ghost's reply is a soft murmur, his dark gaze locking onto yours with an almost intimate intensity. Leaning in, he closes the distance between you as if sharing a clandestine revelation.

"You're dying to catch a glimpse of my face, aren't you?" he whispers at last, his voice a low, husky melody, his British accent thickening with the moment's intimacy.

"I can hardly contain my curiosity..." you murmur back, your tone dipping into a sultry register as you take another sip, your eyes fixed on Ghost's, a silent invitation lingering in the air.

A subtle shiver runs down Ghost's spine at the seductive undertone in your voice, a mere comment stirring something within him. The longing in your gaze speaks volumes, a silent plea for something more.

Ghost breaks the tension with a muffled chuckle, amusement coloring his words. "You're quite persistent," he murmurs, a hint of a smile playing on his lips behind the mask.

Setting your glass down, you lean in closer, elbows resting on the table. Your movements are deliberate, as if sharing a secret meant for Ghost ears alone, shutting out the rest of the world.

"Well, I'd like to see the face of the man who has already fucked me... twice," you whisper, the tone of your voice dripping with sensuality and a touch of sarcasm.