Page 45 of Grave Obsession

“Please, what?” he coos.

“Please, make me cum.”

“Say my name.” I know what he wants and I’ll give it to him.

“Nox, I want you. Please, make me cum.” He thrusts his fingers back into me and I cry out.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he growls. I nod my agreement as he rubs my G spot. “And good girls get to cum, don’t they, baby?”

“Yeah,” it’s a breathy sound that barely resembles the word, but as I watch his sinful smirk disappear down between my thighs, I can’t form coherent thoughts. His tongue drags against my sweet spot and I implode. His mouth closes around my clit and sucks as I scream and writhe beneath him.

“Holy shit, Nox, stop. It’s too much,” but he doesn’t listen. He sucks harder as his teeth nip gently at my swollen bud. He roughly plows his fingers into my core, adding a third and the overwhelming sensations bring another orgasm crashing down on the back of the one I just had. He finally slows his ministrations to a stop and lowers my legs back to the seat.

In my lust-fuelled haze, I’m faintly aware of him moving around and exiting the vehicle. I struggle to right my pants but the feeling hasn’t yet returned to my legs.

Suddenly, the passenger side door is opened and I almost fall out.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Graves

“Jesus Christ, Mallory, be careful.” She falls back as I open the door, lucky to have caught her before she fell and cracked her neck. The thought softens my dick.

“A heads up would’ve been nice,” she snips and I chuckle. I help her back into a proper sitting position in the truck.

“Are you going to put your pants back on so I can show you around, or would you rather stay here?” Mallory glares daggers at me and I just shoot a big toothy grin right back at her. She melts at the sight, I’m so goddamn lucky to have met her. Relenting, she wiggles around, pulling up her pants, and straightening her clothes. On shaky legs, she hops down from the truck and closes the door. Her hair is all fucked up from being shoved against the door so she fixes that too. In some sexy Baywatch reminiscent hair flip, she undoes it and then redoes it up in a bun. My heart thumps, she looks exactly like she did that first day. The one that set me on this fucked up path.

I extend my hand and for a second she hesitates. I freeze at the thought of her rejecting me. But, then she reaches out and weaves her fingers through mine and all is right in my little world for now.

I lead us down to the dock, desperately wanting to push her into the water then jump in after her. We could share some fun, wildly romantic moment together. But, that will lead to stripping and I can’t do that. This game of playing two people is really getting on my nerves. I seriously hope she comes to the conclusion she wants both Ghost and I sooner rather than later.

She sits near the end of the dock and pulls me down next to her. We sit in comfortable silence, basking in the late afternoon sun. I could almost drift off from contentment. The monster in my chest is peaceful for once. Even being around Mallory in the mask isn’t enough to satiate him completely. But this? This has him, me, docile as a lamb.

I move and she startles. She too must have been lost in her thoughts, not in the same way as before though. Her eyes didn’t glaze over and become completely vacant. She’s probably worrying about Ghost, and what will happen to me if she doesn’t stop this. Even though she doesn’t want to.

I won’t do anything drastic, this is what I want in the end. I need to let her get away with her charade of dating us both for long enough that real concrete feelings develop.

I lay my head in her lap and she smiles down at me. Removing my CCPD ball cap, she starts to run her fingers through my hair.

A sigh of blissful satisfaction passes my lips as her melodic voice floats out into the silence. “What made you want to become a cop?”

Her question holds more weight than she knows, and I juggle whether to actually tell her the full story or water it down, like I do for everyone else.

I know so much about her, it’s only fair to reveal the tip of my iceberg to her.

“Well, it was a mix of a few different things. My upbringing mostly, and my uncle’s influence on me,” I answer. A small scrunch of her nose tells me that she didn’t like that answer so I quickly correct myself.

“He didn’t push or pressure me into this career. Actually, it was quite the opposite. He tried to steer me away from it, worried that the job would be too triggering for me.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip, clearly wanting to know what I mean by that, but she’s too apprehensive to ask. I’m thankful that I know her so well in this moment. I can lead the conversation in the direction she wants based on her face and body language alone. So, I continue the heinous story.

“Okay, so basically…my uncle isn’t actually my uncle. I’m adopted.” She nods, gesturing with her hands for me to keep going. I appreciate the encouragement.

“When I was nine, I was removed from my parent’s care. A neighbour had called the police one night for a welfare check on the house. She’d heard my parents screaming at each other on and off for hours. This apparently was normal, but what terrified our neighbour was the abrupt silence that overcame my childhood home.” I watch her features morph as she absorbs the story that unloads the trauma from which my sick alter ego was created.

“My father killed my mother that night, wrapped his hands around her neck and choked the life out of her. Then he came looking for me. He ignored the incessant screaming of our neighbour at the door, knocking and banging on it until her hands bled. She knew I was in there, she tried tirelessly to get in and save me.” I raise my eyes to Mallory’s. Hers are glassy, welling with barely restrainable tears for the young boy I used to be.

“Father dearest was destroying the house in his hunt to find me. The neighbour helplessly watched as he overturned furniture, tore apart every closet, kitchen cabinet, and even the appliances he somehow thought I could fit into. She eventually smashed out a window and climbed through in an attempt to help me in some way. My father shot her without blinking.” Mallory chokes back a sob as her tears hit my cheek. I sit up, wanting to comfort her, but she places her hand on my chest and pushes me back down into her lap.

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