Ghosts of Halloween: A Dark Why Choose Romance

I can’t see anything, but I know I’m surrounded. Strangler kneels between my legs, one of my knees hooked over his shoulder, his rough cheek brushing against my inner thigh. Butcher stands at my side, close enough for his body heat to sizzle over my skin, but not touching.

And Groomer is at my back, holding me, his touch making my blood fizz with sparks.

So many sparks.

No one has ever given me this. It seems highly ironic that it would happen now, after I finally gave up.

But ironic or not, I’ll take it and ask for seconds. This is what I’ve looked for all along. The kind of touch that makes me soar.

I always coped by running and having sex. Noah tried to get me to behave when he was alive, but he worked all day long and did jobs a few nights a month to support us, so he was rarely home and awake. I could do what I wanted.

And the sex never felt amazing, but it made me feel something and at the time, it was enough. It got me touch and attention. Made me feel wanted and beautiful, so I did it. Didn’t even need lube back then. I got wet all on my own.

And then…

A loud finger snap at my ear startles me, and my thoughts vanish.

“I need you here with us, Harlow,” says the calm and competent one. Butcher. “If you can’t keep your head in the game, we’ll have to figure out how to hold your attention. You might not like it.”

A cold thrill runs through me at the threat. And I know I shouldn’t, but I love this. They aren’t treating me like a lame, broken girl. Even now, after learning what happened, Butcher doesn’t coddle me. I feel capable and whole with them—as whole as I can be.

“Sorry,” I say. “It’s just… I really don’t feel much down there.”

It’s true. At first, having an eager, skilled mouth on me felt wonderful, especially after they made me aware of how wet I was. But my pussy is numb again, my clit barely responding to those careful licks.

“It was better when he touched me through my panties,” I say, trying to help.

I’m bare now, my underwear gone. I didn’t even notice when they pulled them off. Groomer whispered sweet, dirty words in my ear, and that was all I needed to get carried away.

I don’t even understand why they care about my pleasure. About me being present. Every guy I know would have fucked me long ago and invited his friends to have a turn, not caring if I stayed conscious or not.

But I’m not complaining. Maybe I really am dead, and this is my personal heaven.

“I don’t want to give them back, though,” Groomer says, his smirking mouth brushing against my jaw.

“Then use this. You’re going to make her come tonight, understand? If this is the last thing you fucking do.”

Butcher’s voice is vehement as he speaks, and I also hear the rustling of fabric. Then, smooth silk presses between my legs and ties around my thighs, cool and luxurious against my skin.

Strangler hooks my knee over his shoulder again and presses his mouth to me. I buck into him, leaning back against Groomer, who is a steadfast pillar behind my back.

“How’s this, princess?” he asks and kisses my temple. “Better now?”

I moan in confirmation. Yes, it’s better. Though, a part of me tries to figure out where the silk they tied between my legs came from, until I remember that Butcher wore a silk scarf. A pretty blue thing.

I can’t believe he sacrificed it for me. Especially since he doesn’t plan to fuck me himself. What does he get out of this? I still don’t get it, but I’m grateful.

“Thank you,” I choke out, squirming against Strangler as he sucks my clit into his mouth.

The sensation through the silk is blindingly good.

“You deserve this,” Butcher says, his voice quiet and serious. “You deserve to feel good again.”

I whimper, electricity pulsing through me. The hot wetness of Strangler’s mouth, seeping into me through the smooth fabric, is just perfect. Numb before, I’m alive with sensation. My clit pulses and throbs, sensitive and swollen, and my pussy clenches, fluttering at every lick of his tongue.

When he envelops my clit in his mouth and sucks continuously, applying steady pressure, my leg shakes so hard, I give up and just hang, supported by Groomer, the harness, and Strangler.

I’m surrounded, my entire body buzzing with their touch, and in my blindfolded state, every breath, every rustle of fabric, every touch is so much more potent. It feels so good, I almost can’t bear it.

I need release. And fuck me, but it feels like I’m getting there. I moan and throw my head back, moving my hips against Strangler, pushing myself into his face.

More. I need more.

“And after you come all over Ca… all over Strangler’s mouth,” Groomer says, fingers brushing my stomach and under my breasts, “I’ll fuck you, baby girl. Not because you deserve it, but because I can’t fucking help myself. I need to have you.”

I try to focus on his slip of the tongue to figure out who they are, but I’m helpless. His words and Strangler’s touch overcome everything, and I keen, my body shaking, my pussy throbbing with pleasure.

“Remember, you can’t come yet,” he says, his voice full of wicked mischief.

I shake my head, groaning in frustration, because I’m so close. For the first time in years, I’m almost there, and why won’t he let me…

The wet silk chafes lightly as Strangler works me, and Groomer thrusts his hips against my ass. He’s so hard, and it drives me higher. Knowing he’s hard for me. That he wants not just a random pussy, but me, is like a drug. I want more.

It’s been so long since I felt special.

I moan and shake harder, trying to keep myself from coming even as a part of me still doesn’t believe it will happen. I haven’t had an orgasm for so long. So why would I…

Strangler’s hand kneads my ass cheek, inching inward until it stops over my asshole. He teases me gently through the silk, and I sob, all of this feeling so good, too much, not enough…

“Not yet, princess,” Groomer says, his voice breathless and hoarse. “Don’t fucking come yet.”

He drags his teeth down the side of my neck while Strangler takes as much of me into his mouth as possible and sucks, his tongue running over me in a tight pattern. God, he’s so good at this. He taps gently over my asshole, and Groomer keeps teasing my nipples, and I… and I…

“Such a beautiful girl,” Butcher says, voice tight. “Such a good fucking girl you are, Harlow. You’re perfect, angel. Just fucking perfect.”Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

I arch my back, all my whimpers and moans stopping when my throat squeezes tight. All of me is tight, hard, buzzing… Until that final jolt comes from my clit, and the orgasm rolls through me, slow, powerful, growing. I shake, silent, suspended in the pleasure. It hurts, but it’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever felt.

When it ends, and I slump in Groomer’s arms, boneless and in shock, he kisses tears off my cheeks.

“See? Told you we’d get you there,” Butcher says. He isn’t angry at all. I guess I was supposed to come despite their orders. “Such a good girl. Let it all out.”

I sob, cringing, because who even does that? Who cries after having a mind-blowing orgasm? I don’t get myself, but it’s an instinctive reaction, something I can’t stop. It’s visceral, coming deep from my gut. The animal in me cries.

“You did well, little bird,” Strangler says, groaning when he gets up. “Fuck, I’ll need a pillow next time.”

“Don’t complain, old man,” Butcher says, humor in his voice. “I’ll get you a pillow. And you’d better get ready.”

They move away, and suddenly, there’s just Groomer and me. I’m not crying any longer, only shaking, lightheaded. It feels as if something tight and heavy in my chest dislodged, and I can breathe. There’s too much oxygen in my system. Too much feel-good stuff.

This isn’t normal for me. I don’t feel happy like, ever. I don’t feel light and relaxed. And yet, I do now, and it’s uncomfortable. I need something to balance it out.

As if he can read my mind, Groomer wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes. I gasp, blood rushing faster, and my senses sharpen, my head clearing.

No longer soaring, I’m back in my body, feeling everything. How my heart pounds. How my pussy undulates with the aftershocks of my orgasm. How his hands press into me, and how hard his erection is, digging into my ass.

“I’d tell you I’ll be gentle, but that would be a lie,” he growls in my ear, pushing the makeshift panties down my thighs. “You’re finally mine, princess.”