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Ghost Sex

potential triggers: nsfw, unprotected sex, slight angst, blood, mentions of violence, oral (fem!receiving)

You had been trapped in the Cortez for years. A living hell. The countess had found you, and brought you back to the hotel. Only to kill you, slitting your throat with one of her silver claws. At first you hadn’t realized you had died, and that made things confusing. You wandered the halls, trying to escape the hotel. Then he had found you. Curled up on one of the empty beds on the fourth floor, crying. He had thought you were the most innocent, delicate thing he had seen in years. James March was not a very loving or affectionate man, but he had tried his best to comfort you, coaxing you up into a sitting position as he explained to you exactly what was going on. You were dead, but so was he, and he was positive you two would get on quite well. What else would you have to do for all of eternity?

-Many years later-

Tonight was a very special occasion. He had invited you to dinner with him. It was the day before his annual devils night, so needless to say, he was in a spectacular mood. He had led you into his suite and pulled out a chair for you. His hand brushed your shoulder before he bounded over to his own chair. He lifted his glass of what you only assumed was absinthe. You lifted your own glass in a toast before taking a sip. You were never the first to begin a conversation with Mr. March. So you waited patiently for him to speak.

“You’re very quiet tonight, what is on your mind?” He asked, swirling the strong liquid in his glass, his dark eyes watching you intently. Almost like a predator watching its prey. It was exhilarating.

“Oh, I’m just excited for your special night tomorrow!” You decided to say, and although you were, there was much more on your mind than just that. Being trapped in a hotel for eternity proved to be lonesome. 

“I am quite excited as well, dear. But I can sense there is something else nagging you. Speak up, you may tell me.”

You swallowed hard. He always knew when something was up. He seemed to know you like the back of his hand. All those years spent by his side proved very useful for him to understand exactly what made you tick. Did you tell the truth? You should, because god knows what he’d do if he caught you in a lie. He did not tolerate liars.

“I’m beginning to grow rather lonely in the hotel..” you whispered. “There aren’t many people coming in as of late, and…I’m craving relations…” you admitted with a blush. His eyes seemed to bore into your soul as you avoided his burning gaze, looking down instead at the fancy tablecloth adorning the table that he once ate at with his countess. 

“Oh!” He exclaimed “why did you not make me aware of this sooner? I never want you to suffer here in my hotel! I must admit I have also grown a bit lonely these days without my dear countess…” he trailed off, sighing a bit before shaking his head. “I am not usually this straightforward. I’m a man of my time, but I have a suggestion that may prove to be enjoyable for us both.”

You tilted your head curiously, meeting his eyes finally, which had seemed to darken impossibly. What possibly did he have to suggest? 

He continued, “We are both craving intimacy. I consider you a close companion, so why should we not… indulge ourselves a bit?” He grinned, getting up from his seat and making his way to you.

“Oh Mr. March!” You looked up at him in shock. Was this a cruel joke? An act to make you look like a fool?

“What do you say, darling?” He whispered, having somehow gotten right up close to you, his ghostly breath fanning against your ear as he leaned over your body. You squeezed your legs together in a futile attempt to control yourself.

“I can practically smell your arousal, darling.” He purred against your ear, a hand making its way to your thigh “you are no good at hiding anything from me.”

Your breathing sped up as you looked at him. He clearly wanted this, and who were you to deny Mr. March of what he desired?

You slowly, gingerly pressed your lips against his, much to his dismay. He reciprocated with harsh movements. Teeth and tongue. You could tell he was a very rough man, and if you weren’t already dead, the idea would certainly frighten you. Even now it did just a bit.

“Come, darling. Take off these garments, they are beautiful, but useless to us as of now.” He whispered, taking your hand and leading you away from the table, to his bed. He all but ripped off your dress, a growl coming from low in his throat as he looked over your frame. He did not speak a word as he shrugged off his jacket and undid the buttons on his white dress shirt. He tossed them somewhere on the floor, to be retrieved at a later date.

He sat back on the bed with a wicked grin “are you not going to help your dearest friend?” He teased, hands deftly undoing the buckle of his jeans.

You got on your knees in front of him, gently pushing his hands away as you undid the belt and popped the button on his tight dress pants.

The next few minutes blurred past, full of wet, hot kisses, and discarded fabric, grinding, and breathless pants, until you two were fully naked on the bed, him hovering over you. 

“I must taste you darling, then the real fun can begin.” He made his way down your body, his large hands easily spreading your thighs. He bit down hard on your inner thigh, causing a cry to leave your lips. When you looked down, you saw he had drawn blood. The wound instantly closed up, but the crimson coloring stained your pale skin.

 “Patience darling. Pain and pleasure are very closely linked, the lines can be blurred between them. It feels good, does it not?” He lapped at the blood, cleaning up the mess he had made.

All you could manage was a nod, a broken moan leaving your lips as the man in between your thighs delved his tongue into your folds, wasting absolutely no time in devouring you. He was a starved man, and you were his meal. He was very skilled with his tongue, but when he added his fingers, it was a whole other level of pleasure. One you hadn’t ever felt before.

“Mr March-“ you whined, hands fisting in the bedsheets

“You may call me James while we are together so intimately.” He said against your core, slipping a finger into your tight heat. He was a gracious man, this was his reward to you for being so loyal to him all these years.

He spent his time pleasuring you. If you weren’t so impatient, he could stay between your thighs for hours on end and be perfectly content.

He had denied you your release, and after your non stop begging, he finally decided he’d teased you enough. 

He kissed his way back up your body, cock rubbing between your folds before he slammed into you. He did not give you the mercy of letting you adjust, instead thrusting harshly right from the start.

He licked away the salty tears that fell from your eyes, shaking his head “the lines darling, remember? They are blurred. It feels good, pain is pleasure.” He whispered, pressing tender kisses to the skin of your neck, a drastic difference from his animalistic thrusts. He truly was an animal, there was nothing gentle about the way he fucked you.

You let your body go lax, trying your best to feel the pleasure instead of the pain, and after a while, once you had fully stretched around him, adjusted to the harshness that was James March, that wave of pleasure began to build deep in your core, like a tsunami. 

“I am close to my release, darling.” He let out a moan, his hips beginning to lose their harsh rhythm. Much to his surprise, and yours as well, you shoved him back against the bed, crawling on top of him, letting him slip back into you. 

“Oh darling- ride me. Ride me as if I was your slave. Use me for your pleasure.” His hands tightly gripped your thighs as you bounced on his cock, which was now hitting even deeper inside of you.

Your release built up quickly, and you could tell James was close as well, his cock twitching inside of you.

Without much thought, you wrapped your hands around his throat and squeezed.

 “do not cum until I sa-“

“AGHh-“ you were cut off by a loud moan from James, warmth filling you. He had cum. He came from you choking him. What a sick being he was. 

“You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that, James.” 

He panted as he looked up at you. He was in for the night of his life, and his only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner.