He couldn't help himself. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, the way she looked at him with those beautiful green eyes of hers.
She reminded him of Magda, yes, but there were things about her that differentiated her from his dearly departed wife.
His Magda had been beautiful, kind. A perfect wife who had given him two children.
Anna Marie was an intelligent, brave, fiery young woman, who stirred something within him, a desire to know her every need and want, and to give it to her, as much as he could. He adored the way her innocent eyes would widen in recognition when she saw him, the way she responded to his touch as she sat here in his lap.
He wanted to see what other reactions he could evoke, what sounds he could elicit from her, what it would feel like to touch her, even in his spectral state.
Her heart was beating rapidly where his fingers touched her neck, and he heard the slight catch in her breath as she closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, he could see the longing, the need in her eyes, but also the hesitation.
He was not her husband, and it gave her pause.
His son didn't deserve her. Here she was, waiting for him, as a good wife should, and he was nowhere to be found.
But Max….he could not leave her even if he truly wanted to.
She watched as he leaned slightly closer to her, and she felt the pressure of his lips on hers, a strange sensation in comparison to when Pietro would kiss her. Pietro had been hesitant to show affection, whereas Max was gentle, allowing her to take it further if that is what she wished.
She could feel the hand in her hair gripping slightly tighter as she tested the waters, returning the kiss, the sensation of kissing a ghost a strange one indeed, but not unwelcome.
She pulled back slightly, opening her eyes to find that the steel blue of his eyes had darkened slightly, transfixed on her.
It sent a shiver down her spine.
Before she could process what that meant, she felt the pressure of his lips on her jaw, his fingers brushing back her hair as he moved lower down her neck. She let out a small gasp, the sensitive skin not used to being touched there in such a way. She couldn't move if she wanted to, rooted firmly in his lap as he held her by the waist and continued his path downward.
She felt his fingers undoing the buttons of her high-collared nightgown, the skin being exposed. She felt goosebumps all along her skin, not from the cold, but from the intimacy of such an action.
His fingers ran along her collarbone, and she shivered at how, even in his spectral state, it set her nerve endings ablaze.
She longed to be touched in this way, to know this kind of intimacy.
She knew it was wrong. She knew she shouldn't want these things with a man who is not her husband, but rather her husband's father.
But her husband had abandoned her every night, and left her alone, and she craved to be touched, to have this intimacy.
She was shifted on his lap, her back against his chest now, as he continued unbuttoning her nightgown, exposing her milky skin underneath, the swell of her breasts revealed for his eyes.
She heard the soft groan from him as his hands explored her body, caressing and kneading her breasts. Her head fell back against his shoulder, a soft little noise of pleasure from her as he touched her, pushing the gown further apart to expose her body to him.
She had never been touched like this before, the fire in her veins with each touch growing hotter than the fire in the hearth.
The nightgown laid open, all the buttons on the top half having been undone, and his lips were at the apex of her jaw and her neck, her breath shallow.
She felt the bottom hem of her nightgown being pushed slowly upward, and she gasped as her legs, her knees, and her thighs were soon exposed, and her wide eyes found his.
Such innocence in her eyes, yet there was an inferno of desire, one that he wanted to be consumed by.
He watched her facial expression as his fingers moved further up her thighs, adjusting her body before slipping his fingers further upward, the little shaky gasp from her all the encouragement he needed to continue his ministrations.
This new sensation was sinful, the way her legs were spread and the upper half of her gown was open, a scandalous position to be in, but dear God, the pleasure she felt was exquisite.
She could feel his fingers teasing and pressing against her center, the nerve endings there responding to every small movement.
The sounds that escaped her lips were sweet music to him, the way she moaned as he touched her like this.
She felt more pressure now, and realized that he was using both of his hands, one circling her center, the other at the bundle of nerves just above it. She anchored her hands around the spectral form of his biceps, her head leaned back as the pleasure of it all overwhelmed her.
"Open your eyes, Anna Marie." He commanded softly.
She did so, her eyes clouded with need, her lips parted, her cheeks pink. She looked the picture of innocence and depravity, and it was all for him.
His fingers moved faster, and he was rewarded by a hitch of breath from her as the moans from her lips grew in frequency, until finally he watched the pleasure wash over her face, her body trembling under his hands as she found that sweet release.
She looked like a goddess.
She grew still, limply falling back against him, and he could see the glistening wetness as he removed his fingers from her entrance, the evidence of her arousal for him.
He gently moved her off of his lap, laying her down on the bed, her red and white curls fanned out as he removed her nightgown completely, baring her completely to him.
His eyes drank in the sight of the beautiful, voluptuous body that was hidden by that nightgown, and found her perfect, in every way.
He leaned closer, and kissed her on those full lips, his tongue seeking entrance, her sweet surrender something he found felt the pressure of his lips moving down her neck, to her collarbone, over the flesh of her breasts-
She gasped as she felt his mouth close around her nipple, her skin so sensitive to everything he did. He sucked and played with each one, her desire growing again as he teased her.
Her hands found the long strands of his hair, and he groaned as her nails dragged against his scalp.
He released her nipple from his mouth, and when he kissed her on the lips again, he was moving her legs apart again, bent at the knee as he-
She gasped as she felt a small pressure at her center, a little different than his fingers. She knew what it was, she knew what he was doing. And as much as she should tell him no, tell him to stop, she couldn't. She didn't want to. She wanted this, craved the way he touched her, the way he pleased her, despite how improper it was.
Her eyes were focused on his, the slate blue almost electric as that pressure seemed to press further into her, and her body stretched around him, around something that wasn't really there, but still felt real all the same.
She felt the resistance, heard him whisper to her.
"Relax for me, schatzi….."
She complied, as best she could, and she felt the sharp sting, but he was focused on alleviating it, bringing her pleasure with the pain.
She had never felt so full, like a part of her had been missing before, and each stroke he gave added to her increasing pleasure as the sounds of such left her lips.
Her nails clung to his biceps, and she felt an increase in pressure on her clit, and knew that he was intent on giving her a second release.
His intention became a reality, and this time her eyes rolled back as her back arched on the bed, hearing him groan as she felt something twitch deep in her opening.
She was beautifully satisfied, and as he pulled away, he saw the evidence of their lovemaking, or rather her evidence, as her center was coated with her wetness, a sight that pleased him. He had pleasured her for the first time, her innocence was his. He felt great pride in that fact.
The sight of her, eyes half-open from satisfaction and exhaustion, caused a feeling of protectiveness, of possessiveness, to wash over him.
He gently cradled her against him, laying on his side beside her, seeing how the exertion had worn her out, and gently tucked the comforter over her body, watching as she succumbed to sleep, the look of pleasure on her face tugging a small smile from him.