Fucked RAW by the Ghost

Scott’s POV

I never planned for my CEO to be my one night stand but I will not pretend that I haven’t fantasized fucking my boss.

That sounds crazy right?? Well everyone’s got crazy fantasies, I just didn’t know mine would become my reality.

A man who I’d beg to fuck me again even with my hole still leaking with his cum.

I’m just twenty-seven, I should’ve had my shit together, but life had a nasty habit of kicking me in my balls every time I stood up. I had debts piled up to clear, a painting I am struggling to sell and here I am drinking my sadness away.

“Another one?” the bartender asked, already reaching for the bottle.

I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good.” My body needed a cock not a drink, I was damn horny, frustrated and tired of feeling empty.

I’d slept with a couple guys for cash before when things got really bad, but tonight I just wanted to have fun. Wanted hands on me. A cock or pussy to fuck me mercilessly but preferably a cock.

Then I remembered the text from earlier: Underground gay party at The Cartel. Dress to impress.

Fuck it.

I grabbed my jacket and stepped out. Inside The Cartel club, the music hit me exactly how I wanted. Bodies moved together under dim club lights. Men grinding, laughing, kissing unapologetically.

I pushed through the crowd, bold as always. Tonight felt very different.

Because tonight, I’m gonna get laid. I want to commit the sin of having a cock as huge as I fantasize right in my hole and there he stood.

Near the bar, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a simple black shirt that stretched across a powerful chest. His steel-gray eyes locked on mine, and something about him got my dick almost. He looked a bit shy, but those eyes… damn. They pinned me.

I walked straight up to him with smiles, no hesitation. “You look like you could use someone to loosen you up.”

He didn’t smile back, but his gaze dragged slowly down my body, then back up. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “You’re bold.”

“You have no idea,” I shot back, stepping closer. “You look like you’re as hungry as I am for some dick tonight.”

He hesitated for a second, then leaned in, voice low and rough against my ear. “Shut up!” His breath sent shivers down my spine. “You talk too much.”

Before I could fire back, his hand gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him. We danced to the music. His body was solid. I could feel him hardening against my thigh, thick and promising. My cock throbbed in response until his mouth crashed on mine.

“Ho… Hotel,” he growled against my lips. “Now.”

We barely made it into the cab. His hand stayed on my thigh the whole ride, squeezing my cock. The next second the hotel door slammed shut behind us and all bets were off.

He shoved me against the wall, kissing me like he was starving. His hands were everywhere, yanking my shirt over my head, pinching my nipples until I gasped. I fought back, biting his lower lip, grinding my hard cock against his.

“Fuck, you’re eager,” he muttered, his voice was deeper now, the shy mask began to crack.

“Shut up and fuck me silly,” I challenged him, eyes locked on his.

That did it.

He spun me around, pressing my chest to the wall. His belt buckle clinked. Pants hit the floor. His thick long cock, heavy, veined, slapped against my ass. Pre-cum smeared my skin. I arched back, desperate.

“No prep?” I breathed, half-joking.

Elliot’s hand wrapped around my throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make stars burst behind my eyes. “You can’t take it?”

He spat on his cock and pushed it in, raw and relentless. The stretch burned so good I cried out, my nails scraped the wall, inch after thick inch split me open until his hips slapped my ass, buried to the balls.

“Fuck, damn yes!”

He fucked me like an animal. Hard, deep strokes that slammed my prostate with every thrust. His grip on my throat tightened and loosened in rhythm, controlling my air, controlling me. Sweat slicked our bodies. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mixed with my broken moans and his low growls.

“You are so fucking tight,” he snarled, biting my shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. “Gonna breed this hole.”

My cock leaked against the wall, untouched. Every thrust pushed me closer. He pulled me back by the throat, arching my back, changing the angle so he hit that spot perfectly. Stars exploded from my eyes.

“Harder, please…fuck me raw!”

He lost it. He pounded me mercilessly, one hand choking, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. His teeth sank into my neck, sucking a dark hickey. Marking me. Claiming me for tonight.

I came first, hands-free shooting ropes against the wall with a strangled scream, my hole clenching around his cock. He didn’t stop. He fucked me through it, growling praises and filth.

“Good boy… you’re taking me so well… gonna fill you up.”

With a final brutal thrust, he buried himself deep and came. His hot, thick pulses flooded my insides. He kept pumping, pushing his load deeper, until it leaked out around his cock.

We stayed like that, panting. Then he pulled out slowly, with his Cum dripping down my thighs. I felt ruined. Owned. And I fucking loved it.

He carried me to the bed like I weighed nothing. We went again, slower this time, face to face. I rode him, hands on his tattooed chest, watching those intense gray eyes darken with every bounce. He choked me while I came a second time, then flipped me over and bred me again, marking my thighs and chest with bites and bruises.

By the time we collapsed, I was a mess, covered in sweat, cum, and his marks. He pulled me against his chest, fingers gently tracing my spine. For a moment, in the dark, he felt safe. Real. Like maybe this could be more than a one night stand.

I fell asleep with his heartbeat under my ear, smiling like an idiot.

The morning sun woke me up through the curtains. I woke up sore, sticky, and satisfied. My body ached in the best way. I reached for him…

The bed was empty.

I sat up fast, heart dropping. “You were so good last night.” Hoping he was probably in the bathroom.

But no answer. I checked and his clothes were gone. The only evidence left was the mess on the sheets, the bruises on my neck and thighs, and the dull throb in my ass where his cum still leaked out.

He’d left. He didn’t even leave a note or a number.

I stared at the empty side of the bed. Last night he made me feel wanted. Now that familiar emptiness rushed back in. Another one-night stand with do I say a ghost?

“Fuck,” I whispered, running my hand through my messy hair.

I had the biggest interview of my life in less than an hour at Zenex, the art empire that could change everything. And here I was, leaking another man’s load, covered in marks I couldn’t hide, and already craving more of someone whose name I didn’t even know.

I showered quickly, wincing at every sore spot, but smiling despite everything. The marks reminded me of how alive I’d felt.

As I rushed out of the hotel, late and disheveled, one thought kept circling my mind:

Who the hell was that man… and why do I already want him again?