Page 79 of Haunted Prey

I felt his tongue graze against my clit, and I nearly dropped the knife. My face twisted in the mirror, a low moan escaping my throat, muffled by the hilt. He slid his tongue along me, swirling and sucking against my clit like he was starving for it. My body tensed and throbbed, the heat coiling in me, making the ache unbearable.

I whimpered as he held on to me, my hand under me clenched in a fist, while the other clawed at the table as if trying to pull away, but he pulled me right back. I looked as if I was in pain in the mirror but I was far from it. I moved my hips against him, silently begging him not to stop.

Then his tongue dipped inside me—once, then twice—and I shattered. I came, shuddering, a cry tearing up my throat. The blade clattered to the table and I let the cry out that turned to a scream as the orgasm heightened.

He shoved the chair back to stand and unzipped his pants. Already rock-hard, he rubbed his cock along me before plunging inside.

“Oh, fuck, I can feel you, baby. I can feel you coming.” He groaned, immediately starting to pound into me, thrusting hard and fast, unable to hold off. He paused only briefly to reach over me and take the knife, stabbing the blade into the wood. “Take it,” he demanded.

I reached out and grabbed it, holding it tight.

My cheek, pressed to the wood, rubbed against it as my body shifted along the tabletop to Emery’s thrusts, his hips hitting my ass. I clenched my teeth as I couldn’t stop the moans and whimpering cries that burst out of me. Emery didn’t yield as the table shook. He took a hold of my hair, twisting it in his fist, his hand lifting me so I could watch him fucking me.

He thrusted several more times until finally spilling inside me, a guttural noise coming from him as he leaned over me, his breath on my back.

“Evee…Evee. God, you feel like…heaven,” he said between breaths as he slowed. He kissed my back, his teeth grazing my skin. I let go of the knife as he let go of my hair. We stayed like that for a moment, just breathing in unison, until he lifted off me and I brought myself up on my elbow.

I lifted my head to catch his gaze in the mirror once more, to see his face, to see him smile so that I could smile back.

When I looked up, I froze, my blood going cold as I was met staring at my skull-faced phantom instead.

He smiled at me, tilting his head, holding the blade. “Happy birthday, baby,” he hissed. And I saw skeletons sitting around us, around the dining table with the streamer above splattered with blood.

I let out a cry, twisting around, swinging my arm up in terror, to defend against the blade. I hit Emery’s chest, and he grunted more in surprise than in pain.

The vision dissolved and the dark settled back in. I was in the room within the church again and above me Emery looked like himself.

“Eve?”

My lip trembled. Sweat formed along my breasts and temples, dampening my hair. I must have looked scared because he placed his hands on either side of my face, his expression growing concerned. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, what happened?”

“I-I saw…” With a trembling hand, I pointed to the mirror.

“You saw… the other me again?”

I nodded.

His thumbs traced along my skin. “It’s okay.” He pulled me up to sit on the edge of the table. “Hey, look at me.” I met his gaze and could see how serious he was now. “I’m not him. I’m right here. He’s not real.”

“Like your sister?”

She had such a hold on him for so long. And now I understood what he had been going through. I only started to regret the words when I worried I might trigger an episode in him.

He shut his eyes and I knew she was talking to him by the way he tilted his head. Fuck, why did I have to say that? I should have known better.

He shook his head. When he opened his eyes, I could tell he saw me clearly, no trace of anger or panic, or his demons rising.

“That’s right. Like my sister.”

I fixed him with a sad expression. “Emery, I’m sorry.”

“No. You're right. Even if it’s been hard to accept. Because you see a version of me even though I’m alive. Besides, she hasn’t been like my sister in a long while.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “We will fight our ghosts together. Ghosts that aren’t ghosts. Just bad shit in our heads.”

I took a deep breath and lifted my hand, tracing the scar across his mouth. Leaning in, I kissed the scar, then his lips.

Against them, he whispered, “Together.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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