All Chapters of Haunting Romantics : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

She had never touched anyone like this before, with such all-consuming hunger that it seemed to swallow every other thought she might have had. She had only just begun to explore her own body and the unfamiliar bloom of pleasure before her life had been cut short, and everything about this felt new to her, overwhelming and intoxicating at once. These sensations rushing through the form she inhabited now were different from anything she had known while she was alive, sharper in some ways and more fragile in others, as though desire itself were the thread holding her together.When she had lived, she had heard the women in town whispering behind their hands about the things they did with men, their voices low and scandalized, full of warnings and fascination all at once. The acts themselves had always been described as carnal, dirty indulgences that society frowned upon, something dangerous that could ruin a girl if she allowed herself to want too much.But now, here in her house, in hi

She hollowed her cheeks and took more of him into her mouth, the movement slow and deliberate as she adjusted to the stretch and the unfamiliar fullness. She could feel his moans vibrating through his body and into her, but her focus narrowed entirely to the sensation of him, the heat and weight and living presence that filled her awareness.It was a heady rush, having her mouth full of him.He pressed against her tongue, firm and insistent, and she could feel the strain at the hinge of her jaw as she worked to take him deeper. The taste of him spread everywhere, across her lips and tongue and down her throat, until it felt as though she was saturated with him, surrounded by sensation in a way she had not experienced since she was alive.She was full of him.Her hands wrapped around the portion she could not yet fit into her mouth, fingers tightening instinctively as she began to move her head in slow, rhythmic motions, coating him with her saliva. It was messy and inelegant, far remo

She had imagined this moment so many times that she had stopped believing it would ever happen.Even when she felt herself growing stronger, even when she sensed the edges of her form tightening into something more solid around him, a part of her had still believed she would remain unseen forever, trapped between presence and absence while he moved through a world she could never fully enter again.But now he was looking at her.Not through her.Not near her.At her.The realization struck with such force that it stole the breath she did not need to take. His eyes were focused on her face with unmistakable clarity, following the curve of her cheek, the fall of her hair, the shape of her mouth, and there was no confusion in his expression, no uncertainty about what he was seeing.He could see her.Emotion surged through her so quickly it felt almost violent, a rush of sensation that made her awareness tremble. For a fleeting instant, she wanted to disappear, to fold herself back into t

She woke before him.For a few quiet moments, she did not move, unwilling to disturb the fragile peace that had settled around them sometime during the night. The room was still dim, early morning light slipping through the thin gap in the curtains and painting soft gold across the floorboards. Dust drifted lazily in the air, catching the light like tiny floating stars.Ben slept on his back beside her, one arm resting loosely across the blanket, his breathing deep and steady in the unguarded rhythm of someone who had exhausted himself completely.She watched him.The simple act of watching without hiding felt miraculous.For so long, she had existed in the background of his life, drifting through rooms while he worked or slept or spoke

Ben woke like someone had shoved him out of deep water.His lungs dragged in air sharply as his body jerked upright, the memory of dust and blood still clinging to the edges of his vision. For several disoriented seconds, the world around him refused to settle into anything recognizable, the dream pressing against his awareness with the stubborn weight of something that had felt too real to dismiss as imagination.Then the bedroom slowly came back into focus.The soft gray light of morning filtered through the curtains, painting long streaks across the wooden floor. The familiar shape of the dresser stood against the wall. His boots rested where he had kicked them off the night before.And she was there.Sitting beside him on the bed.Her brow was furrowed in quiet concern, her pale braid resting over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on his face as though she had been watching him the entire time he slept.“You were dreaming again,” she said softly.Ben ran a hand down his face, the linge