Chapter 81

Evie closed her eyes and hummed in delight. "Oh my goodness, this champagne is divine. Even better than I'd remembered. Thank you, Sam." She took another drink and rolled the liquid around in her mouth before swallowing.
If Sam hadn't already been hard, he would have been after seeing that. All he could think of was seeing that expression on her face from having him make her come. And the remote possibility of seeing those plump lips wrapped around his aching cock.
Not tonight. He held out a strawberry. "Now this."
She bit daintily into the juicy berry and closed her eyes again. "Oh Sam. Thank you." He let her take it from his hand to finish it on her own.
After another sip of champagne, he held out a tiny chunk of the chocolate. "My sisters swear this is the best on the planet." When her lips opened, he popped the whole square into her mouth.
While she savored the morsel, Sam ate one of the berries and a sliver of chocolate. He wanted her to taste the same flavors on him when he kissed her. Which had better be soon, he saw when he glanced at the clock. They had under ten minutes left.

Evie drained her glass and set it aside. She wasn't truly tipsy. There hadn't been that much, and apparently ghosts didn't respond like that to alcohol, but the bubbles had tickled her mouth and the flavors were exhilarating after ninety-five years of nothing.
Now it was time for something else. She stood, turned to Sam and reached up to cup his cheek. The skin was smooth - she'd watched him shave just an hour ago, and knowing it was for her benefit had made her tingle all over. Leaning close, she inhaled the scent of him - soap, shaving cream and a musky, rich scent that was uniquely his. The slight pressure she'd felt between her legs had now increased to an empty ache, and she felt herself softening, dampening her underclothes even more than before.
"You're so lovely. I'm terrified, you know," he told her as he drew her closer, into the warm circle of his arms. The crisp hairs on his bare chest tickled the palm of her hand.
"I know you're not afraid of ghosts," she replied, letting her hand rove across his shoulder and down one muscular arm. He was so warm, so full of life. She desperately hoped he was teasing her. His hands trailed down her back, tangled in her hair and explored her throat and shoulders.
"No, not of you. For you." He feathered a kiss across her forehead. "I've never been with a virgin, Evie. Even if your hymen has been torn, there might be some pain from stretching and I don't want to hurt you. Especially since we won't have years and years for me to make it right."
A pang cut through her belly. Some lucky woman, some day, would get to keep Sam for a lifetime. Evie only had a week. "I trust you, Sam. I can stand a little discomfort. I know you will be careful."
"I'll do my best. I can promise there will be pleasure to offset any pain." With that, finally, he kissed her.
The memory she'd been clinging to of his lips the night before had been a pale imitation. His kiss tasted better than the champagne or the strawberries or chocolate, though she could detect the flavors of each on his lips and tongue. He pulled her close against his heated skin, letting her feel the warmth of him right through her undergarments. She returned his kiss with frantic fervor, desperate for more sensation - more Sam. Her nails gripped his back, but he didn't complain. Neither did she when he cupped her breast through her corset. Even with the barrier of quilted cloth, his touch made her burn and quiver like a leaf. The soft cotton fabric rasped against her nipple, which she knew had pearled up into a taut bead like the women in the films they'd watched the night before. Likewise, she felt herself becoming wet, dampening the folds of her sex and the cloth of her panties.
In her modest, maidenly lifetime, she'd have been horrified - or at least felt guilty if she wasn't. She'd always been fascinated by the idea of lovemaking. It was the only reason she'd regretted Gervase putting off their wedding. While she wasn't delighted with him, she had looked forward to the mysteries of physical intimacy.
Now, she was excited even more by the way her body responded to Sam. Why oh why, couldn't she have found someone like him while she lived?
His lips left hers, and she nearly cried out at the loss. Her whimper turned into a moan when he didn't pull away but nibbled down from her ear to the curve of her throat, licking her skin and sucking on her flesh. The ache between her legs intensified and her breasts felt heavy and swollen. She rubbed against his chest, seeking some relief for the tension building under her skin.
"Ah, so passionate," he whispered. Carefully, he pushed down the strap of her corset and eased one small breast free from its confinement.
She wished she was larger, like the women in the films, but Sam didn't seem to mind.
"You're lovely," he said, bending to kiss the upper curve. "Perfect, all rosy and pink." Then his lips closed around her nipple, and Evie cried out, clutching his shoulders just to stay standing. "Tomorrow, I'm going to strip you bare, Evie. I can't wait to see all that lush, creamy skin."
He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked.
Evie's knees did buckle then, but Sam caught her easily and carried her to the bed, where he sat with her in his lap. He bared her other breast and lapped at it with his tongue while one big hand slid up along her thigh to cup her sex through her drawers.
"You're so wet," he said with a sigh, his warm breath teasing her damp nipple. "Ah, sweetheart, we're gonna have so much fun."
Evie didn't doubt that for a moment.
"Touch me, sweetheart." Sam slid his hand up under the loose leg of her drawers and found her wet folds. "Put your hand on my dick, Evie." Then he brought his lips back up to hers and kissed her deeply while his fingers explored her pussy, touching her the same way she'd touched herself the night before. Now that she was flesh, the sensation was so much more intense, she moaned into his mouth.
Still, she obeyed his instructions and wiggled her hand between them, down the front of his stretch pajamas to find the thick, hot flesh of his penis. It pulsed into her hand. Her fingers didn't quite meet when she tried to circle it, but she stroked up and down as she'd seen on the movies. His skin was soft while the tissue beneath it was rigid, and small amounts of fluid leaked from the mushroom-shaped tip.
One night before the end of the week, she was going to take him in her mouth.
Now though, she felt herself beginning to fade.
A small cry of disappointment escaped her lips right before she became utterly insubstantial.