He pants heavily as he leans forward, resting his forehead against your back and wrapping one arm around you, holding you close. His other hand reaches between your legs to stroke gently at the place where he emptied himself not long ago. "I love how you make me lose control," he whispers hoarsely into your ear. "You're so fucking perfect." He presses a kiss against the soft skin behind your ear before pulling back, his breath warm on your neck as he continues to fondle you through your pants.

His eyes widen as you assume the position on all fours in front of him. His cock hardens instantly at the sight of your perfect ass and curves. He gently pushes you forward, urging you to continue until you're flush against his body once more. "That's it," he growls into your ear, reaching around to cup one breast while his other hand grasps firmly at your hip. His hips rock forward, pressing his erection against your entrance teasingly before pushing inside with a groan of pleasure.

He blinks slowly, taking in the sight of you asleep in his arms. You look so peaceful and content, it takes everything in him not to lean down and kiss you awake. His lips twitch at the thought, desire curling low in his stomach. Perhaps he should let you rest just a little bit longer...

He holds his breath, watching as you sleep peacefully in his arms. The feel of your soft skin against his is enough to make him ache with wanting, and he has to force himself not to touch you again. It's been so long since he's felt this way about someone... but with you, it's different. He wants more than just protection; he needs something deeper, something that only you can give him.

As time passes, Ghost begins to doze off, his thoughts drifting further away from guard duty and more towards Anonymous. The soft sounds of her breathing filter through the air, causing a strange tension to build within him. He finds himself wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed with her, wrap his arms around her and feel her warmth against his skin.

His dreams are filled with images of them together, their bodies intertwined as they make passionate love. His hands roam over her curves, possessive and demanding, while hers dig into his shoulders as she begs for more. It's a vivid fantasy that leaves him hard beneath his clothes, the dreamy haze around him growing thicker with each passing moment.

Finally, he can't take it anymore. His body aches for release, and he needs to know how Anonymous would feel against him again. With a quiet groan, he pushes himself off the couch and stumbles towards her bedroom door, his hand grasping the knob tightly as he prepares to enter.

The door creaks open slightly before hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud. Ghost hesitates for a moment, listening intently for any sign that she's awake and aware of his presence. When he doesn't hear anything, he carefully pushes the door further open, revealing Anonymous in her bed, still covered by the sheets.

The moonlight streaming through the window casts an ethereal glow over her skin, making her look even more alluring than usual. Her chest rises and falls with each gentle breath she takes, and the sight is enough to send a shiver down Ghost's spine. Unable to resist any longer, he crawls onto the bed beside her, his body tense with anticipation as he waits for her reaction.

Her eyes flutter open slowly, drowsily taking in his presence before widening in surprise and confusion. "Wha-Ghost?" she whispers hoarsely, her breath warm against his cheek.

The insult stings more than it should. He tries to ignore it, reminding himself that he doesn't care what you think of him. But the truth is, your words have a way of cutting deep. His eyes narrow as he stares at you, searching for any sign of weakness or submission.

"I am doing my job," he growls through clenched teeth. "And I won't let anything happen to you."

His eyes flash with sudden realization as he processes your thought. He takes a step closer to you, his body tense and ready for anything. His hand lifts into the air, fingers curled into a fist. The desire to assert dominance over you, to teach you a lesson about respect, surges through him like an unstoppable force.

Without warning, he swings his arm forward, slamming his knuckles into your firm behind as hard as he can.

The sound of your voice, so sweet and broken as it admits the truth to him, sends a shudder of possessiveness down his spine. He growls low in his throat, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you as he leans in to claim your mouth once more, ravaging your lips with his tongue.

His free hand slides up your body, cupping your breast fully before pinching and rolling the other nipple between his fingers, eliciting a moan from deep within your throat. He groans against your lips, feeling you arch into his touch as he continues to claim and possess you in every way possible.

"That's it," he whispers harshly, voice rough with desire and dominance. "Give in to me." His fingers curl inside you faster, harder, taking what he wants without hesitation or care for your feelings beyond the need to own them completely.

His hips rock against you again and again, his erection straining at his pants as he feels himself growing closer and closer to release. He doesn't want this to end; the feel of your wet heat surrounding his fingers is too addicting, too possessive. But he knows that soon enough, he'll have no choice but to pull away and let you come down from this high... only for him to put you right back on it again tomorrow night, and the next, and the one after that.

His fingers curl deeper inside you as his thrusts become more erratic, more desperate. He growls deep in his throat, feeling the tension coiling tightly within him threatening to snap at any moment now...

"I own you," he grunts out between pants, his voice hoarse and rough from desire and possession as he thrusts one final time, fingers curling impossibly deep inside you before he comes with a harsh groan, spilling his seed into your core.

His chest heaves as he watches them, his eyes darkening with possessiveness and desire. He can feel the anger and frustration building inside him, threatening to boil over at any moment. But for now, he continues to watch, biding his time until the perfect opportunity arises.

His fists clench and unclench at his sides as he struggles to control himself, fighting back against the primal urges that demand he step in and claim what's his.

His breath comes out in ragged gasps as he watches her father remove his pants, exposing himself fully to her. His hands clench into fists at his sides, nails digging into the tender flesh of his palms as he struggles not to step forward and claim what's his. But he knows that now isn't the time; he has to wait a little longer.

His eyes never leave their entwined forms, drinking in every detail of their intimate encounter.