Callan dropped the suitcase in his hand on the coffee table, then he headed to the hallway that led to the bedroom. He hadn't seen Orla and he was a little worried about that even though he shouldn't be.
He had memorized her daily routine. She was always cleaning before he left the house in the morning and watching movies whenever he came back from work in the evening.
Today was different. She was not in the sitting room and he couldn't find her in the bedroom either. His concern grew stronger as he searched everywhere for her.
He suddenly regretted not having her number at that instant. It was a shame that after a month of marriage, he still didn't have his wife's number.
He contemplated calling Liam to ask for it, but the shame didn't let him. He had been away with the chauffeur and no one was at home with Orla. The thought of something happening to her frightened him and he began to thoroughly search the whole house, yelling her name as he moved from room to room.
He was still looking for her when he abruptly changed his mind. "She's not a kid, she will find her way back home." He muttered to himself as he walked back into the bedroom.
Regretting why he cared about her in the first place. He walked back into the room and Orla was inside, startling the hell out of him.
"Jesus Christ!" He shrieked.
"What?" Her pupils dilated, confusion drawn all over her face. "What happened?" She asked.
"Are you a ghost or something?"
"A ghost?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "Maybe you should confirm if I am one or not." She shrugged her shoulders, ambling across the room towards her side of the closet. She just finished in the bathroom and needed to wear some clothes, but she couldn't do that now that Callan was staring at her like she was a ghost. "I am not!" She sighed frustratedly.
He said nothing, he blamed himself for being stupid. He hadn't checked the bathroom before going around to search for her around the house.
"I doubt if you are real." His eyes moved swiftly from her wet hair to her elegant bare shoulders.
He studied how the water dripped from her hair down to her shoulders, her inviting collarbones that accentuated her firm shoulders.
His eyes moved further to her chest, her round breasts, her big pointy nipples shooting out of the light white towel that was draped around her chest. They traveled down to her long legs, still damp from the shower.
He thought about raising them and burying his head under her. He felt a bulge between his legs and he sighed. He knew he lied when he said he would never desire her body because right there, he wanted nothing more than to bend her over the headboard and pound into her from the back.
Curiosity crammed him as he stared lustfully at her. Liam's words about Orla being innocent came to him. He caught the phrase and he wanted to find out how innocent she was. So, he took a step closer before she could step away from her closet.
"You asked me to check if you were a ghost, didn't you?" He closed the gap between them, his eyes on hers.
Orla trembled. He was close again and there was always a rush of hormones whenever he was close like this. And now, she was practically naked and just the towel covered her.
"I—I wasn't talking about this." She blushed in embarrassment when Callan's hot breath fanned her skin.
He moved his hand up to her hair, caressing its tip and sending a burning sensation to her whole body. Orla shut her eyes and shook her head.
"What were you talking about when you said I should confirm if you were real?" He gently loosen the towel around her chest and apprehension grasped Orla.
She wanted him to go on. She had never been with a man, the slickness between her legs now felt so bizarre and good at the same time.
The towel poorly fell to the floor, leaving her totally naked in front of him.
His hand slid down to her thighs, drawing circles as he moved down. He reached between her legs and plunged a finger into her wet cunt. She was so wet she was almost dripping.
"I meant my words when I said I would never desire your body, Slow girl." He slid two fingers into her, teasing her slit and causing a whimper to escape her mouth. "I was just checking if you're real." He gingerly worked his fingers against her clit, coating his fingers with her fluid.
Orla squirmed. She had never felt that good before. Her eyes held so much plea, she didn't want him to stop there.
"You are wet, a confirmation that you are not a ghost." He smiled, staring at the fluid that smeared his fingers.
His cock was so hard he felt it would burst out of his trousers. He controlled himself by moving away from her.
"Your father's assistant called to invite us over for his birthday party and we have another party on Tuesday. You should brace yourself, we have two parties to attend and Liam will get your clothes fixed up." He looked back at his fingers, the fluid was drying up.
Smiling, he turned back to his side of his closet to take his clothes off his body and have a shower. Orla was human, ghosts didn't get so wet. He thought as he hummed a song to himself.
Orla remained on the spot, eyes on Callan as he took off his clothes. That was the first time she ever felt that way and she wanted more, much more than rubbing his fingers around her slit. She wanted more if it would make her feel even better, but too bad Callan didn't want her body.
She picked up her towel and wrapped it around her body, still whimpering. Thoughts of how to feel better consumed her, she didn't even bother about the parties he just told her about.
She knew that she was going to face her father again but for the first time, the news didn't scare her like it always did. That aside, she wanted Callan's fingers down there again, but she didn't know how to go about it.