Page 64 of Grave Possession (Grave #2)

Chapter Fifty-three

Mallory

G od, I want that. His tongue between my legs, and his cock in my mouth.

The thought is enough to send me screaming off the deep end, but the way he’s fucking me shoots me to a new realm of pleasure.

His strong fingers circle my clit with just the right amount of pressure to make my knees go weak, and when I shatter, he’s there to catch me.

He doesn’t falter, doesn’t stop, despite the pain I know he has to be in with a welt that size and shade.

He plows into me, dragging my orgasm out until my voice is hoarse, and my body is limp.

Nox eases us down to the floor, rolling me over, and sliding back into me. The pain of each thrust pinches his brow, hips losing momentum and rhythm. Poor guy is in too much agony to cum.

Don’t worry, Ghost. I’ll help.

Wrapping my legs around him, I lock my ankles. Throwing my weight, and pushing with my hands on the cold hardwood, I roll on top of him. He doesn’t fight me at all, surrendering willingly. It’s how I know he’s truly in pain, Nox loves the push and pull of our relationship.

“What are you doing, little siren?” he pants, watching me with the intensity of a jungle cat.

I don’t reply as I move back between his thighs, unlacing his boots, and working his jeans off.

He groans as I lick up his shaft, dragging my tongue over his piercing.

My lips slip over his crown and he bucks his hips, trying to get me to take him deeper.

Another wince lashes across his features.

He tries to hide it, but honestly he’s doing a terrible job at concealing how much discomfort he’s actually in.

I spit onto his cock, working my hand slowly up and down. “Did that hurt?” I ask.

“No,” he grumbles.

“Tell that to your face.” My hand twists over his crown as my other cups his balls. His abs contract reflexively, and I watch the pleasure be replaced by agony. “Why don’t you stay still, tough guy.”

“Kind of hard with what you’re doing there, babe.”

I lightly touch him again, forcing another painful flex of his delicious muscles. The tortured sound of his arousal and suffering reverberates around the room, relighting my desire like the true sicko I am.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, and maybe I'll let you cum.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” The massive bruise in the centre of his stomach is larger than his hand, nearly black in colour, with a smattering of dark red and purple around the edges, and some yellows and greens mixed in throughout.

I don’t know what happened to him, but the last time I saw an injury like this, Johnson brought me a half-dead woman to torture that he hit with his car.

To say my hackles are raised is an understatement, and I deserve to know if I almost lost him.

“I’m fine, baby,” he moans as I take him into my mouth, sucking him hard and slow.

His fingers weave into my hair, pulling tight but not controlling me.

I can’t stop as I smile around his cock, he knows what I’m about to do.

I take him to the back of my throat, working him to the edge as my fingers graze the underside of his sack. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, Mallory.”

I watch as every line of his body defines, tensing despite the injuries. Pulling my lips off his cock, “Or what?” I taunt.

He yanks on my hair, dragging me up his body. His one hand on my hip pushes me back onto his cock as he drives up into me.

“That’s fucking what,” he growls.

I writhe against him as he slams into my swollen pussy. Bucking into me from beneath has to be agonizing for him. “Nox, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself even more.”

“I don’t fucking care, baby. Being shot stopped me once before, it won’t stop me again.”

“What!” I scream, bouncing on his cock, the sound of slapping skin reverberating around us.

“You fucking heard me. Nothing will stop me from crawling home to you. Nothing will stop me from sinking into your sweet, wet, cunt. Not injury. Not work. Not even fucking death. I’ll still own you from the other side, Mallory. You’re mine.”

Well isn’t that romantic?

His punishing thrusts and vow of devotion drag me towards another orgasm.

Exploding around him, he rolls us, driving into me from above as I shake beneath him.

On his knees between my thighs, I watch him find his release.

He pulls himself from within me, working his length, and shooting his cum onto my skin.

Nox smirks down at me, observing the picture he’s painted.

He drags his cock through his seed, then pushes back inside me.

Using his dick to paint me from the inside.

“Stop it or we’ll never get off the floor,” I say through gasping breaths.

Repeating the process, Nox says, “I fail to see how that’s a problem.” He watches his cock move in and out of me, as I silently observe him. Fire relighting in his eyes from the scene before him, and an almost imperceptible twinge in his jaw every time his hips rock forward.

“Nope, play time’s over, tough guy,” I say, scrambling away. He moves erratically to grab my ankle, but misses. Thumping into the hardwood floor, and hissing out in pain. “Damn it, Nox. Stop re-injuring yourself.” He grimaces, looking up at me and pressing his palm to the massive bruise.

Extending my hand, I haul his mountainous body off the floor, helping him to the bedroom.

I pull back the covers, and he plops down onto the mattress, clearly exhausted.

I feel bad wanting to engage with him, when what he really needs is rest. However, as I help him out of his black zip-up sweater, and see the myriad of scrapes and bruises all over his arms, I can’t keep my tongue caged any longer.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” The phrase slips out with more bite than I intend, but maybe my anger will encourage his cooperation.

“Later, come to bed.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Mallory…” he pleads.

“No, Lennox. Fucking tell me or I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Like hell you will.”

“Watch me.” I glare him down as he struggles to roll onto his back and inch himself up slowly into a sitting position.

Our eyes lock as I wait him out. His gaze is assessing me.

What for? I have no fucking idea, but the longer time ticks on the more annoyed I become by his silence.

There’s a minuscule tug on the side of his mouth and he bites his lip, almost like he’s trying to stifle a smile, but I can’t even fathom why he’d be grinning at a time like this.

“Jefferds and I had a problem.”

“Okay… What does that mean?”

“Does it matter? There was a problem…now there isn’t.”

“Nox,” I say, trying to quell the rage sparking in my chest. “You said you were shot.” He nods. Fuck, I’m going to punch this man right in his bruise if he keeps this shit up.

“ Look at you getting all worked up. So feisty!” he snickers.

“Fuck you,” I growl, snatching my ghost blanket off the bed and storming out the door .

“MALLORY! WAIT!” I dart into the bathroom and jump behind the open door, concealing myself. Nox’s feet hit the floor, the sound of him breathing through the pain, and cursing under his breath follow him down the hallway.

“MAL!” he calls out. Seconds creep by as I imagine him scanning the open concept area for me, but I’m nowhere to be found.

He opens the front door, shouting my name again. The sound echoes through the quiet night. I have to shove my face into the blanket to smother my laugh as the panic in his voice mounts. Serves him right. Payback’s a bitch and so am I…when I want to be.

The front door slams and he storms through the house, grumbling to himself. Nox descends the stairs to the basement, his grunts of suffering agony following along behind him.

Quickly, I tip-toe back to our bedroom and re-dress.

Throwing on an oversized Satan’s Priest band t-shirt, and slipping beneath the covers.

They aren’t an actual band, but one from another favourite book of mine.

I flick on the bedside lamp and pick up my current read, carrying on as if nothing happened.

Lennox thunders up the basement stairs, and by the sound of his footfalls, I’d say he’s taking them two at a time. “Baby! I’m sorry.” he pleads, choking back his mounting worry. “I’ll tell you whatever you want, Mallory. Just don’t be gone again. Please.”

Fuck .

My breath stalls.

I’m such an asshole .

His heavy breathing echoes down the quiet hallway as he closes in on our bedroom.

I stay rooted to my spot even though I want to run to him and apologize.

He gets to torture me with denied orgasms until I surrender and tell him the truth.

I tried that tonight and it backfired. Now, I have to try and get him to open up, using fear instead of frustration and exhaustion.

Stay strong, Mallory.

I keep my eyes on my novel. Not really reading, but attempting to appear that way while watching the doorway out of the corner of my eye.

His form smothers out the light from the hallway as he crosses the threshold.

Nox’s sigh of relief whooshes out of him as he staggers back, leaning against the doorframe.

Don’t move. Don’t engage.

“You could have at least answered me,” he rasps.

“Oh, like you answered me? Get fucked.”

“I was worried,” he says, his panic turning to irritation as he grinds his teeth.

“And I wasn’t?” I retort.

“Why can’t you just trust me?” I level him with a glare.

I asked him to trust me, and still he edged me until I broke.

“Fine,” he huffs, crossing the room, and carefully easing down to sit next to me.

He plucks the book from my hand, sliding the bookmark into place, and setting it on his nightstand, visibly twinging in pain as he twists and turns his body.

At least he put on underwear before stomping around the house in search of me.

My fingers tangle in my lap as I look anywhere but at his face. I want to be mad at him, but it’s fucking impossible after hearing the fear in his voice .

“You’re not going to like what I have to say, and I’m going on the record now, stating that I didn’t want to tell you and set all your progress back.”

How the hell does him being shot have anything to do with me?

My mind spins a tumultuous whirlwind as I fear the cops somehow know I killed and tortured that woman in the cellar. I attempt to keep my face unreadable as I nod, waiting for him to continue.

“I went to my meeting with Jefferds out in the middle of nowhere, which was unusual to begin with…but then he started running his mouth about Johnson having an accomplice.”

Oh, shit.

“Okay…” His gaze is assessing me again, scanning over every inch of my face and body. His stupid cop radar is going to get me fucking caught, I just know it.

“He wanted me to dig into your memories to find out if you remember anyone other than Ted.”

“You know I don’t.”

“That’s what I told him.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“He didn’t believe me.”

“So you got shot for disagreeing with him? I don’t understand.”

“Just let me finish.” I nod, staying silent. “The woman in the cellar.”

“What about her?”

“You said Johnson did that to her, right? Carved her up in front of you and made you watch?”

This is it. I gulp back my nausea and lie to his face. “Y-yes. ”

“Well, Johnson is dead, and Jefferds found another body in the city with the same markings on the bones. Mal… he thought you were the accomplice.”

There it is.

The ringing in my ears is near deafening as my anxiety takes hold.

Don’t you fucking break, my subconscious demands.

How can I not fucking fall apart? He knows.

My nails dig into my palms, forcing myself to recentre before I say something I can’t take back. Looking him square in the eye, “That’s ridiculous,” I say. “Johnson almost killed me.”

Nox’s head falls, hanging in shame. “I know,” he replies, disgrace heavy in his voice.

“That’s not your fault.” I comfort him, cupping his cheek, and raising his eyes back to mine.

“Yes, it is. But let’s not fight about that now,” he says sullenly.

“Nox, can you just tell me why Detective Jefferds kicked your ass and then shot you?”

“He did not kick my ass,” he growls.

“Are you sure?” I gesture to his fat lip and black eye, smothering a giggle. Hoping to lift some of the doom and gloom his guilt brings into the room. I don’t blame him for what happened to me, and he shouldn’t either.

“This is nothing, you should see what I did to him,” he declares, smugness dripping off his every word.

I can’t deny his cockiness is a quality I enjoy. Especially when I know he was in that situation to protect me. I can put the pieces together now, he doesn’t have to finish the story. Nox didn’t want Jefferds harassing me, and a fight ensued when he was told to back off and he didn’t.

“And what’s he look like?” I question, heat rushing to my cheeks.

Ghost smirks, locking his emerald ringed eyes on mine. “Dead.”