Page 93 of Grave Possession

He pushes up the sleeve of my dress, exposing old scars. Gently, he kisses over them. Then he drags the blade of the axe through the marred skin, placing his mark over the tragedy of my past. I cry out, back arching, trying to move on his cock. Nox pulls my palm to his lips, licking up the blood as his hips start to pump faster.

“I’m yours, Mallory,” he says, crimson staining his mouth. The axe clatters to the floor, falling from his grip. Placing my bloody hand over his heart, he squeezes tight. My blood oozes out around our hands, staining his pec. It runs down my arm, seeping into the sleeve, and dripping onto my dress. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. My blood, my heart, my soul, it’s yours. All you have to do is ask.”

With my free hand, I reach up, wrapping my fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him down so we’re forehead to forehead. Our lips meet as he fucks me slow and hard, he’s got me on the cusp of shattering, I can feel it, burning inside me. “I’m yours too, Ghost. Now, fuck me like you own me.”

Graves

Mallory’s scream of pleasure echoes around the bedroom as she cums again. Her cunt clamping down on my cock, pulling free the orgasm I was trying to hold back.

Her breathing slows as she lays next to me. “We better hurry, the King can’t be late to his first Haunt.”

She’s right, I have a position to uphold, but I’d rather bask in this moment with her a bit longer. “Just five more minutes,” I reply, curling my arm around her, and pulling her close. I kiss her like I’ve never kissed her before. Infusing all of the things I leave unsaid into the way my lips move against hers.I love you. I know you’re a killer, and I adore you because of it. You’re amazing. You’re strong. There’s no me without you. I’m smitten. You complete me.And every other cliche romance movie line that I used to roll my eyes at.

My free hand trails down the side of her body, curving over her ass, and pulling her leg up over my hip. Sliding my fingers up the underside of her thigh, I graze over her centre. Her body tenses, and I smile against her lips. There’s no getting away from me, baby. I can’t get enough of you.

Collecting our release, I start to rub her clit with my thumb as I sink my fingers in and out of her. Mallory gasps against my mouth but I swallow the sound, holding her tightly to me as I slowly fuck her with my hand. Her hips start to roll in time with my thrusts, meeting them harder and harder. I want to be inside her again, but I need to save some energy for the Haunt. I grip her tight against me as her kiss becomes hungry, hands digging into the collar of my shirt so tightly we could fuse together asone. She’s so fucking close, and I want to hear her fall apart against me one more time. I part our lips for a moment, only long enough to watch the mesmerizing bliss overcome her, as I press so far inside her she cries out, writhing on me, rubbing her g-spot on my fingers. She shakes against me as the orgasm captures her, and she calls out my name. So bloody and beautiful.

“Wow,” she exhales, and I can’t contain my smile. Her lashes flutter then she looks at me, “Your smugness is showing,” she mumbles and I laugh.

“Of course it is, did you hear how loud you were? I bet my officers over at the mill heard you cumming for me.”

“Shut up.” Her cheeks flush as red as the blood on her skin.

“Or what,” I say, slapping her bare ass. Her gasp dissolves into a moan, and I’m without a doubt sure her body is still buzzing for me. “That’s what I thought. Now get your boots on so we can go.”

“What? I have to get cleaned up! My hair and makeup are a mess, you insatiable heathen.”

“You will do no such thing.”

“Nox, I’m covered in blood.”

She looks every part of the axe murderer she’s trying to be with my blood smeared across her face and hands. “I guess it’s a good thing we are going to a halloween party then, isn’t it?”

Chapter Fifty-eight

Graves

Ihate it here.

If I didn’t have the weight of the struggling small town on my shoulders, and the legacy of my uncle breathing down my neck, I’d leave. The atmosphere is loud and extremely chaotic, things going from zero to a hundred within seconds of the decorative gates opening. Watching a frenzy of patrons scurry over the once blood-soaked gravel where my Uncle Oscar died turns something in my stomach. Maybe I’m taking it too personally, the massacre from before never bothered me, but it didn’t directly affect me either.

I won’t deny it looks amazing though, every horror buff’s wet dream. The town really went all out in memory of their fallen police captain. The mill is thumping, strobing rave lights flickering from inside. The haunted house and hiking trail are off to the right of the entrance, and the screams already coming from inside are really adding to the ambiance. The DJ booth and “throne” are set up on the stage that sits outside between the mill andthe haunted house. The large, high-back, black velvet chair is backdropped by an arch. Dismembered limbs, skulls, and bones bound to it by fake pumpkin vines. Jack-o-lanterns adorn the stage, and the DJ’s fog machine sets the spooky atmosphere. The night is still young, but already there are couples dry-humping in the dancing area before the stage. A woman has been chained to the St. Andrew’s cross that stands beside the haunted house, her slutty nurse costume pushed up over her rear as a large man dressed as Pyramid Head flogs her bare ass. “Please,” she begs, trying to move but unable to. His gentle touch sweeps down over her flushed skin, between her legs, then inside her. The flogger whips across her thigh as he fucks her with his fingers at a violent pace. Her keening whines getting louder and louder with each ruthless push inside her.

Mallory strolls along beside me, taking everything in as she crushes my hand in her grip. I can’t see her eyes behind the porcelain doll mask she wears, but I can only imagine how wide they are. She wasn’t originally going to wear the mask, saying it clashed with her costume. However, I think last-minute nerves got the best of her. She wants to keep her face concealed when she’s up on the platform with me. I can’t really complain, I’m rocking my Ghost mask with a ridiculous gold, plastic crown upon my head. Grey insisted I wear it, to usher in a new era or some shit. We argued until he said he would super glue it to my head if I continued with the fight…so here we are.

This crown is ostentatious, attracting too much attention. It’s making both Mallory and I uncomfortable. Too many people are able to recognize me, slapping me onthe shoulder in congratulations, ensuring I know my uncle would be proud of me. They shake my hand or force me into an awkward as fuck side-hug in condolence. The funeral was enough. Every touch that isn’t Mallory’s drives me closer and closer to snapping. I don’t like being touched, and I definitely don’t like engaging in anything that makes my little siren squirm uncomfortably.

The entire town showed up for the funeral, closing every single business to pay their respects to the great Oscar Graves. Almost every attendee asked, “Who do we have here?”, when they approached me at the wake. Mallory never left my side that day. Holding her head high as she was introduced to person after person, smile never faltering, even though I knew by the end of it she would have wanted to peel her skin off from so much human contact. Her aura deflates now though, as I have to reintroduce her to every person I encounter. I know she’ll grin and bear it though, for me, to be the person I need at my side.

Little does she know, all I need is her.

The real her.

Not some carefully constructed facade that hangs politely off the arm of the new police captain.

Viktor, a well known out-of-towner, sidles up alongside me, quiet as hell. He hasn’t aged a day in the few years I’ve known him, lucky bastard. Dressed up like a vampire, fake blood is painted over his mouth, it runs down his neck and half exposed chest, turning the white button down he wears into a canvas of carnage. “Sorry to hear about your old man, Lennox.” He never calls me Nox, it’s always Lennox.

“Thanks, Vik.” He nods, thankfully knowing me well enough not to touch me. “How’s the work on the estate coming along?” I ask, hopeful to talk about literally anything other than my grief.

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