Two long days and nights have passed; days of lethargy and nights without sleep, your mind still reeling from the spectre's visitation and the drain upon your being; the hole in your soul aching to be filled. As darkness comes to the house you light a fire, desperate to get some warmth back into your body, the flickering lights of red and gold, hypnotic as you lie on the sofa, desperate to rest, desperate to regain some modicum of normality.
You wake with a start, unable to move, a weight upon your body, as the flickering light from the fire's last embers cast shadows across your room. How long have you been asleep and what force is keeping you in place? It is then that you begin to feel the familiar chill, building, drawing your heat from you and giving the shape lying on your chest further substance.
The creature, kisses you, a long and passionate kiss and with each second its cold lips are on you, its tongue in your mouth, swirling over your own, the more it solidifies. The fear is still there but you feel an even stronger need, a yearning to give yourself to it, to succumb to its will and you slowly begin to part your legs. As its lips leave yours, and you see your breath fog in front of you, there it is again that sting of intense cold along your neck, drawn out from half remembered recollections of the last encounter. There is pain, as before, but an even more intense feeling of pleasure, as your heat leaves you and the only warmth you can feel is coming from the folds of your pussy, hot and wet, desperate for its attention, yearning to be filled, needing to welcome it's seed.
You gasp as your nipple is sucked into its mouth and you feel thin, bony fingers gently massaging your thighs, pushing your legs wider. Wherever they touch pinpricks of pain press against your consciousness even as they become flesh, your energy revivifying them, giving it corporeal form. Your desire is so strong now and you find some energy to lift your arms, fighting the ennui, embracing your ghostly lover, running your hands over its back and feeling further substance until you hear that familiar thin and distant whisper, like the rustling of leaves, "give yourself to me, invite me into you".