#ghost!morpheus

Inhaling the aromas, a pleased hum rumbled in your throat and harmonized with the sizzling vegetables in the skillet. Your stomach grumbled, eager and wishing to devour your dinner now. Shaking your head, a joking smile curled over your lips. Soon, you told yourself. Soon you will feast then crawl into bed.

Yet, someone else had plans, someone wanted to disrupt your peace.

Hands - cold and firm - wrapped around your waist. You gasped. Panic flooded your system, but it all quickly dissipated. Frustration, and some embarrassment, swiftly overtook your flash of panic.

“Morpheus,” you hissed under your breath.

A low chuckle reverberated near your ear.

You whipped your head over your shoulder, throwing a heated glare. And yet, there was no one. Perhaps if you squinted you may see the vague wispy outline of a man, or perhaps it was your imagination conjuring such a shape.

“Cheeky,” you grumbled at the empty space.

Morpheus was a ghost, a gentleman from a bygone era struck dead and doomed to haunt the grounds. Unfortunately over the years, the grounds had been purchased and built on. From a shop, to a house, to finally an apartment complex, Morpheus was the one constant that stayed and had become a resident as well so to speak. And best of all - or worst depending on your view - Morpheus in turn had become your ghost, specifically your spectral lover. You weren’t sure when and how it all started, the beginning was all foggy with the thick haze of lust.

But, you didn’t mind.

He was yours, and you were his.

His hands trailed down, slipping under your baggy shirt. Your own hands flew down trying to stop the demanding hands, however they passed through them.

“Morpheus -“

“Pay no mind to me,” a rich voice cooed in your ear. “Please, continue to focus on cooking your dinner.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. “How can I -“

Your breath hitched. His fingers skimmed up your sides then danced below your breasts. Your eyes dropped down. Your shirt was bunched up. The lumps and movements of hands constantly roamed beneath. His touch was insatiable. He wished to map out your curves … again. He truly could never tire of the softness of your skin, the warmth, the life which flowed through you. While due to his nature, he on the other hand was frighteningly cold. His hands were always so cold they were like ice against your searing skin.

His palm pressed into your stomach, making you shiver. His lips brushed over your ear then dipped below to gently kiss your neck. His hand moved back up. A light hum tumbled off your lips. His fingers brushed along the underside of your soft breasts. “No bra?” He murmured with a teasing tone.

A heat licked at your cheeks. “I - I am home, why would I?”

“A valid reason, my dear, but are you sure you were not waiting for me?”

You scoffed, “You give yourself a lot of credit.”

“I believe my work can speak for itself.” His slender fingers pinched your sensitive nipples. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed back a sinful sound. “I do believe I always leave you more than satisfied, yes? But, do correct me if I’m wrong?”

What a smug man.

He then began to knead and play with your breasts, loving how such a delicate task left you panting and growing desperate. His thumbs then swept over your nipples. Electricity shot down your spine. So cold, so wonderful. You dropped the wooden spoon, letting it clatter to the ground. Your vegetables will most likely burn at this right.

Fuck.

Morpheus hummed, pleased to see you holding back. He will make you sing soon enough. Your body was his most cherished instrument. With every tug, every twist, every pluck, he could orchestrate such a sweet melody. Your body will bend to him. And he knew what chords to play, and in what order, to achieve it. Such as if he truly wanted to make you sing right now, he could wrap his lips around your nipples and suck on them. You always made such lovely sounds when his tongue was involved.

“Relax,” he purred.

Fall into me, bend to me, he thought.

You choked on your words, “My - my dinner -“

The stove clicked, shutting off itself. The pan slid to the side off of the hot burner. Morpheus was growing impatient, and his hunger knew no bounds. “Let me take care of you.”

He twisted your nipples. You moaned so beautifully for him. You finally leaned your head back, relieved to have a solid presence to support you. You had no fight, no more retorts.

You wanted him.

His lips skimmed over your neck. Goosebumps trailed behind in their chilly path. He then pressed gentle, loving kisses into your skin. Each one a proclamation of his desire for you. His hands gave your breasts a break. But, not your body. Oh no, like before he wanted to make you sing. They slid down your stomach then traced along the waistband of your shorts. His fingers glided over once, then twice, before dipping below the band. His finger immediately swirled around your clit, then slid between your folds. He swiped between them, rubbing and teasing you.

A devious smile painted across Morpheus’s face. You were dripping for now, and you always were. “So wet,” he smirked. “I thought you said I give myself too much credit.”

“Please,” you whispered breathlessly. You tipped your head back, trying to look back at your lover, at where you believed his eyes were. You reached up, swiping at the space where his face would be for it to only connect with air. “I need you.”

I want to touch you, to feel you, to kiss you.

He snickered. “Allow me to have my fun, my dear. I assure you you will be satisfied as usual.”

“But -“

A finger slowly pushed inside of you. A small yet delicious stretch made your back arch. You bit your lip, holding back your moan. Morpheus’s eyes dazzled with excitement. You truly were so wondrous. He could watch you all day and night, all your cute lovely expressions.

A hand cupped your face, drawing you into the invisible space. Your eyes fluttered closed as you used your other senses to guide you. Cool lips brushed over yours. You chased after them. He huffed, a small laugh through his nose. It was always nice to see you were addicted to him as much as he was to you. He captured your lips. You hummed, melting into him. His lips moved with such precision. He poured hot passion into your veins. He will burn you from the inside out if he must.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as your mind focused solely on his lips, on the feeling of him. You tried to grab him - something - but to no avail.

You were simply at his mercy.

His finger curled inside of you. You moaned loudly, but Morpheus swallowed it up. His tongue dove in between your lips, swirling around. He explored your mouth. His tongue danced with yours. You tried to fight back, but you couldn’t. He consumed you and all your senses. Morpheus dominated you, and your knees trembled with every swipe of his vile tortuous tongue.

But, you shouldn’t focus only on his tongue.

That was your mistake.

His finger began to pump at a lazy pace. How could you forget? His fingers were vile and tortuous too.

He drew back, breaking the kiss. You whined faintly. Your eyes were still closed, your brows furrowed in a frustrated knot, and your lips were utterly abused and sopped from the messy kiss. His finger gradually picked up its pace. Your eyes flew open.

He chuckled, “You, my dear, always amaze me.”

He added a second finger, filling you more and satiated the ache for more. You whimpered, bucking your hips. Deeper, faster, harder, you wanted him to ruin you.

“And always so responsive.”

His fingers curled again hitting the perfect spot. You moan, squirming in his grasp.

His lips brushed against yours again murmuring, “And always so pretty when you come for me.”

Tears prickled in your eyes. You searched and searched wildly but saw nothing, not your Morpheus. All you saw was the dull ceiling and walls of your kitchen. “Morpheus -“

“Shh, I got you. I told you, let me take care of you.”

He removed his fingers with a graphic wet sound. Your cheeks burned. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt pulling it up and over your head. Your breast spilled into the air. Morpheus wasted no time, pinching your nipples again. You groaned, burying your head towards him. Seeing you so flustered and needy, he supposed he could make this a little faster. His own arousal was becoming difficult to fight back on anyway. With a small trick, he phased your shorts and underwear off your body, leaving you now fully bare in your kitchen. The cold air against your glistening cunt made you shiver. Hands then gently pushed you forward, making you bend over the counter. You pressed your sweaty forehead into the cool countertop. You peered over your shoulder.

Still no one.

You pouted. Yet, your pout dropped as a silent moan fell from your lips. Something teased your folds. You recognized the thick shape as Morpheus’s cock. You pushed back, desperate to take him. But, he pulled back, keeping just his tip between your folds.

“Stop teasing me,” you begged.

His cock rubbed through your folds. He rocked his hips, lightly humping you. Your mind began to splinter. Lust clouded your mind. Needs and wants curled around your throat, threatening to squeeze out all your depraved secrets. You met his shallow thrust, feeling the head of his cock rub against your swollen clit. Each thrust - the mind numbing friction - made you cry out.

“Please,” you panted.

You needed to feel him fill you and stretch you.

“Say it again,” he growled.

You let out a shaky breath, “Please, Morpheus.”

Grabbing his cock, he slowly pushed inside. You clawed at the smooth counter. Inch by delicious inch, he filled your cunt until he bottomed out. Morpheus curled his body over you. His lips kissed your neck, and his chiseled chest pressed into your back. The coolness mixed well with your perspiration.

Hot and cold.

Dead and alive.

“Are you ready,” he purred in your ear.

You nodded, biting your lip. His hips rocked slowly. His cock dragged out through your walls before pushing back in.

Soft, teasing thrusts. One to make you desperate.

“Morpheus,” you whimpered.

His cock continued the painstakingly slow pace, loving the sensation of your walls clamping down around him and pulling him back in. You didn’t need to say anything, your body screamed for more.

“You’re taking me so well,” he hummed.

You swore you could cry. “Fuck, faster please.”

He smirked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! Please.”

His hips snapped, setting a brutal new pace. All the air caught in your throat. Your eyes widened then nearly rolled back. Your head fell onto the counter. For now, all you could hear was the slapping of skin. Turning your head, you peered over and locked onto the nearby window. With the dark backdrop and the light inside, it acted like a mirror. You could watch your body being pummeled. You watched as your ass jiggled and contorted, you watched as your breasts bounced with every thrust, you watched as the obvious handprints dug into your malleable skin and hips daring to leave permanent marks.

Your lust rattled mind realized something: the curtains were opened. Apartments across the way could watch you, watch as nothing absolutely ruined.

Would someone think you were fucking yourself? Would they be confused? Would they be turned on? If Morpheus shifted his body, could you watch as his invisible cock filled you, stretching you?

You shivered at your thoughts.

Morpheus’s chuckle broke you out of your thoughts. He saw you eyeing the window. He saw what you saw. “Oh? Do you like to watch?” He paused, considering something else. “Or would you like someone else to watch?”

Words lodged in your throat.

“I can feel you clenching around me, my love,” he teased. You buried your face in your forearms, embarrassed how much this all truly turned you on. “Look. Now do you like to watch me?”

You peered out of the corner of your eye. After his question, his body became corporeal. He was a well built man, toned and lean. His back and arm muscles rippled with every thrust. His pale skin seemed to glow brighter in death. His hair was black as Death’s robes, and cropped short. His eyes shone like pale blue moons. Here he was, Morpheus, your ghost lover in all of his glory. A man whose face belonged in renaissance paintings, spoken as a king or a lord. A man from an era of courtship and marriage, of hidden letters passed between lovers, of romance and roses. And yet here he was, his long heavy cock pounding in and out.

He fucked you like a toy, his toy.

You watched, utterly memorized.

“Or only like this?” His body disappeared again, leaving only the sounds of his destruction upon your body.

You whimpered.

“Answer me, sweet one,” his voice whispered next to your ear.

“B-both,” you stuttered out. You loved watching him, and you loved knowing you were simply at his mercy.

Your ghost, your monster.

“Can - can I see you?” You asked under your breath. You desperately wanted to see him, to see his body and face. Tonight, you needed him, all of him.

“Of course.”

His body reformed. You sighed happily. His head was tipped forward. His lips parted, panting. You swore with each puff, a cold chill spread over your back. His hair - usually slicked back - flopped in his face, begging to be played with. Your eyes fell to his cock, coated in your combined juices.

Pleasure crackled down your spine.

Yet, Morpheus was not satisfied. He moved you a few inches away from the counter. He bent you down more, hitting a new angle. Stars exploded behind your eyes. His blunt tip kissed your cervix over and over. You moaned loudly without a care.

“There,” he mused. “Right there. So beautiful, so sweet.”

Head hanging, you grabbed the edge of the counter, trying to hold on and keep yourself up. But, your thigh and knees shook, threatening to crumble. The stretch was intoxicating. You could hardly catch your breath. Opening your eyes, you watched as Morpheus’s cock disappeared in and out of you. Your stomach even bulged at this angle. Your mouth hung open and you swore drool pooled at your lip. You closed your eyes, focusing on the rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Morpheus, please, I’m so close,” you whined, greedily matching his pace. You began to erratically hump his cock, desperate for your release.

Without saying a word, one of his hands on your hips snaked down between your legs. His fingers circled around your needy swollen clit. Your back arched. You moaned, it was all the encouragement he needed to keep going.

“Then come, my love,” he purred, pounding feverishly into you. “Let me so you unravel, let me hear you sing, let me see you come all over my cock. I want you to make a mess on me, my love.”

You writhed, feeling the pressure build and build ready to snap.

“Watch me fill you, my love.” His fingers moved faster drawing more aching circles.

You were almost there.

“I told you to watch.” He lightly smacked your clit. You gasped, your eyes snapped open. Your eyes connected back to how his cock pumped into your cunt. “Perfect.”

He could tell you were watching by the way your walls tightened around him. It had seemed he had found an unspoken kink of yours.

“Now, be good for me, and come on me.”

Seeing his thick cock fuck you, feeling his blunt tip hitting the deepest parts of you, and his sweet words all combined tougher and pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name, coming all over his cock. Your knees nearly gave out. Luckily, Morpheus held you up. He worked you through your orgasm leaving you floating in utter bliss. After a few more pumps, he buried himself to the hilt, moaning.

The aftermath and heavy panting filled the air. Ever so slowly, Morpheus removed himself. You suddenly felt so empty.

“Let me help you.” Morpheus whispered tenderly. “I’ll prepare a bath for you.”

“Please,” you mumbled, now exhausted.