The Ghost of Task Force 141 [Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader]

Undressing Wounds

The room was now pitch black, and you could hear Ghost's soft breathing. 

His arm slid back from the switch and fell to your shoulder. 

You heard his body shift as he leaned closer, "Splinter", you could feel his breath on your ear as his voice sent shivers down your spine. His other arm slid to your waist, resting there. 

Your lungs tightened as your heartbeat raced, and you knew he could feel it. Your stomach twisted into knots, as a sense of arousal floated to the front of your mind. 

"Mind if I..?", Ghost's voice dropped to a whisper as you felt the fabric of his mask brush against your ear. You shuddered, as it felt ticklish. 

You could only imagine how this looked. Ghost looming over you, and you utterly enjoying it. 

A small smile spread across your face, as you grabbed his forearm that was rested on your waist with one hand and the other you slid up to his jaw. Under your hand you could feel his forearm flex as his grip on your waist tightened. 

You guided his jaw to your lips as you speckled a few light kisses across the fabric covering his lips. 

You didn't know what was worse, the fact that he was your Lieutenant, or the fact that you were indulging him. 

As you tore away from the fabric, he muttered, "Fuck". 

You slid your hands around his neck, pressing into him. You could feel your bodies intertwine as you closed the distance. 

For now, you were simply just going to go with the flow and think about it later. 

Ghost guided you back against the door, before picking you up, his hands resting at your ass. 

You felt the door against your back as you squeezed your thighs, locking your legs together behind him. 

His breathing was labored, as your senses were heightened. You couldn't see much, but you could definitely feel. 

 Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, and your heart was beating with anticipation. 

He pressed you against the door, using his body to hold you up as his hands slid up your shirt, caressing your soft skin. His gloves pressed into every groove of your back as they could, before traveling to the front of your shirt. 

"Lift up my mask, darlin'", he rumbled as he leaned his face into the crook over your neck. This fabric softly teasing your skin. 

Your hands felt around like a sculptor and their clay piece, finding every edge and every texture. You followed his clothed jawline before pressing your thumb onto his fabric covered lips. After lingering there for a few moments, you lifted up the black fabric, tucking it under the bottom teeth of the skull mask. 

Your fingers grazed his skin, feeling the rough texture of his day-old stubble. A few scars budded up from his face, most settled onto his cheeks from fights that happened years ago. 

You relished in the closeness, and the intimacy, it'd been so long since you'd done anything like this, and of all people to do it with, it was Ghost. 

He continued to explore as well, cupping your chest, and squeezing it. The fabric of your shirt was constricting him, as well as your bra. 

"Take 'em off.", he instructed. You pulled your hands away from his face, and leaned forward as your shirt left your back, and your skin pressed onto the cold door. Your skin prickled as you got used to the sensation. 

Ghost assisted you with your bra, unclipping it before tossing it aside. 

You trace his own shirt, taking in every detail you could feel from your hands, his pecs under his shirt, his collarbone, his neck, everything.