I must have fallen asleep waiting for him. The half-eaten sandwich was still on the nightstand, the cheese gone cold and hard. I was curled up on top of the blankets, still wearing his grey shirt.
The sound of the door clicking shut woke me up, but I didn't open my eyes. I heard the zipper of his jeans and then the heavy thud of his boots hitting the floor, one after the other. Then I heard the shower start in the small bathroom. The hum of the water was like a lullaby.
I waited in the dark, my heart thumping softly. A long time passed before the water stopped. The bathroom door opened, bringing a cloud of steam that smelled like soap into the cool bedroom. I felt the mattress sink as he climbed in. He was a wall of heat next to me.
I shifted, sliding across the sheets until my back pressed against his chest. He was damp and smelled clean. He didn't say anything, but his arm moved, draping over my waist like a heavy lead weight.
I turned around in his arms, finally opening my eyes. The room was dark, but I could see the outline of his face. He looked tired. I reached up and ran my fingers over the stubble on his jaw.
"You're awake," he muttered. It wasn't a question.
I didn't answer. I just leaned up and pressed my lips to his. He tasted like nothing now, just warm skin. I kissed him slowly, my tongue tracing the line of his mouth until he groaned and pulled me closer. His hands were large and rough against my back, sliding under the hem of the shirt.
The kissing started to feel different. It wasn't just a greeting anymore. It was desperate. I moved my body against his, feeling the strength in his legs and the broadness of his chest. I wanted more. I wanted to feel like I was completely filled up by him, so there was no room left for me to feel lonely or sad.
"Vance," I whispered against his neck. I nipped at his skin, wanting a reaction. "Please. I want more."
He pulled back just an inch, his eyes searching mine in the shadows. "Blythe. You're tired. Go to sleep."
"I'm not," I said, my voice shaking. I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging in slightly. "I don't want to sleep. I want to feel you. Please. Don't just leave me like this."
He looked at me for a long beat. He was stoic, his face like a mask, but I could feel the heat radiating off him. He reached down and gripped my hips, pulling me firmly against him so I could feel exactly how much he wanted me, too.
"You never know when to stop, do you?" he asked. His voice was a low growl, more of a rumble than a word.
"Not with you," I breathed.
He didn't argue anymore. He flipped me onto my back, his weight pinning me into the mattress. It felt wonderful to be small underneath him. As he moved to take off the shirt, I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. For the rest of the night, I wasn't a student, and I wasn't a ghost. I was just his.
His kisses were hungry, almost punishing, making me moan in his mouth, letting go in the dark. His mouth left mine, trailing down to suckle at my collarbone while his hands squeezed my breasts, thumbs circling your nipples.
"Missed this," he breathed against my skin, and it wasn't about sex. Not just that. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer and he removed his boxers. "I missed you. Use me…"
He hissed in a breath at my words, like the words turned him on as he removed his boxers. "Fuck," he muttered, settling between my thighs. He was already hard, pressing against me. "You always say that. Like you're just...something to use."
The rest was a blur, hard and heavy thrusts as he draped his body over me in a bear hug. He wasn't gentle, he was trying to hurt me. Just taking what I offered, what I insisted on giving. His forearms caged my head, his face buried in my neck as he thrust into me roughly, skin slapping against skin in the dark room.
Making me forget my own name.