Page 11 of Graveyard Girls (Hollows Grove #1)

lunette selene

Shiloh Solair’s chestnut curls fell so beautifully on her muscular shoulders.

The fading light from the remaining embers of fire from the hearth made it look as if she were lit from within, like the sun: warm, soul giving, full of charm, so full of life.

So full of life for a ghost who’d followed me home from Hollow Graveyard.

After a flash of confusion across her face, she took her hand in mine and interlocked our fingers. “No, Lune. I’m real. This is real.” She squeezed.

I shouldn’t have loved it so much when she called me Lune, but I did.

I shouldn’t have liked her as much as I did…

but I did. It was impossible not to. Though everything in me told me to cast her out, set her free, I’d come to enjoy her company immensely, and selfishly, I just couldn’t bring myself to send her away.

Usually, a ghost’s memory came to, or they simply faded away or moved on.

Occasionally, if they were stuck against their will, they had a proclivity for drifting toward darkness…

but there wasn’t a hint of dark in Shiloh.

No, she was good, and she was much different from a common ghost.

With a sigh, I cupped her face. “You are a ghost, Shiloh Solair. You were born on October thirty-first, nineteen seventy-two, and you died on July ninth… about three months ago. On the same night Alaric died. You were, and are, the graveyard keeper of Hollow. Beloved by many?—“

“Stop it. This is nonsense. How can I touch and move then? I’m not floating around mumbling to myself like the spirits in the cemetery.”

“You’re a marvel,” I replied. “The only thing I can find of something like you in any of my spellbooks is a section on poltergeists. You’re like…

the strongest, realest sort of ghost. You can feel, move through the world, and interact with others, but you are not alive…

and eventually you will need to choose to move on. ”

“Move on?”

“To the afterlife.”

An ember popped from the dying flames, and Shiloh looked over, her expression contemplative. “There are sapphires all over the floor of your kitchen. Whatever was after Jilly is now taunting you.”

“Oh.” Worry pressed on my shoulders. “I’ll refresh my protective wards tomorrow. That should keep everything unwanted out.”

Shiloh nodded, looking unconvinced. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know. Thank you.” I squeezed her hand. “Do you want to talk? Ask questions? Is there anything I can do?—“

“No.” She cut me off. “Can I just hold you, please?”

My heart fluttered in my chest. Shiloh felt so good, so real…

yet she wasn’t. She was dead, and eventually, her soul would move on to the afterlife—whether she chose to or not—the spirit world would come for her and usher her home.

I had no idea how much time she’d have in this realm.

It could be a day, or it could be fifty more years.

Regardless, I couldn’t get attached to her—and I was more worried about getting attached than I was about some sapphire-killer.

What’s worse is as my heart was tugging me toward Shiloh, I also had a responsibility to Alaric.

He’d asked me to marry him, and I’d said yes.

We hadn’t made it to a marriage ceremony, we’d walked no aisle in a church, we’d only just sent out wedding invitations when he died.

However, a promise from a white witch was no small thing.

My word, my promise, my affections, they were as binding as any certificate of marriage granted by either state or priest. His means of leaving the world was as terrible as Shiloh’s… murder.

I owed Alaric Lonesome all the spells in my toolkit to try to bring him back.

I loved him.

I did… love him… right?

Shiloh pulled me into her sunlight-warm embrace, and I nuzzled into her chest.They are problems for sorting tomorrow. Wrapping my arms around her tight, like I had so many times since first meeting her, I said a silent intention that she would still be here when I woke up.

I sent a silent plea to the universe to not take her from me just yet.

Please let her stay a little longer.

Please, please, please.

I’d encountered a fair many ghosts and spirits in my days as a witch.

Much like living and breathing people, some were nice, some not-so-nice.

I couldn’t say I knew what to expect, however, from informing a poltergeist of their condition.

You know, telling them they are indeed dead—but I certainly didn’t expect to wake up to find her in the kitchen making me breakfast.

The cats had been fed, a few stragglers still lapping at their teacups.

No sapphires were on the ground.

Maybe she’d dreamt it up, or it had been a vision.

Ghosts’ perceptions were not always the same as those in the human realm.

Maybe I hadn’t heard anything at all. Regardless, I decided not to mention it as she slid a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of me at the counter.

I leaned against the marble as I watched her flip two more for her own leaning stacks of fluffy confection.

“Did you sleep well?” I eased, cutting my pancake with a fork.

“Like a baby.” She smiled, flipping another onto her plate. “Which is kind of a strange saying, if you think about it. Babies don’t sleep well at all from what I’ve heard.”

I giggled. “No, I suppose they don’t.”

I sent a silent thank you to the heavens that Shiloh was still here. At least I had one more day with her. And hopefully one more, and one more, and one more…

“Ouch!” Shiloh yelped, shaking her hand.

Crimson blood dotted the ivory countertop.

“Sliced my finger cutting bananas.”She shrugged, noticing my fixation on the red.

Taking her wrist, I inspected the blood trickling from her knuckle.

How sophisticated a poltergeist was she that blood rushed through her veins?

No wonder Dr. Jekal lost control at the opportunity to examine her.

As only a mere witch, I was resisting the urge to do the same.

Why, I wondered what a drop of her blood could do to aid spellwork or potions…

My every intent was to wrap her cut in a bandage; instead, instinctually, I brought her finger to my lips.

Slowly, I sucked her fingertip into my mouth, welcoming her to slide against my tongue.

The tang of her blood pricked my senses.

Shiloh’s eyes hooded, and her mouth parted as a small groan escaped her lips.

“Your mouth looks almost as good taking my finger as your pussy does,” she murmured darkly.

My cheeks flushed, but I kept sucking, tempting her into whatever she may do next. There was no way to predict Shiloh’s next movements. She burned hot and bright like the sun. She would warm and she would burn, and I had no say in either. I could only hope she rose again for me each morning.

Before I could respond, my graveyard girl grabbed my hips and lifted me with ease onto the counter. Removing her finger from my mouth, she inspected where her blood trickled against the saliva I left behind. “Spread your legs. I’m still hungry,” she demanded.

Excitement fluttered through me. No one ever dared to order me about.

Too afraid of being turned into a cat or something.

But not Shiloh Solair. In fact, she didn’t seem afraid of anything at all, least of all me.

Somehow, that was a comfort I’d never known.

A strange sort of safety in the arms of my poltergeist that had followed me home from a cemetery.

Doing as I was told, I opened my knees, leaning back on my palms. “Breakfast is served, darling.”

With a low growl of desire, she lowered to her knees and discovered my new trend of not wearing panties beneath my dresses. “You dirty little whore of a witch,” she purred. “Such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

“You know I am.”

Without warning, her wet and bloody finger pierced my entrance, filling me up with no pretense. I screamed in pleasure, one hand tangling into her curls to hold on as she thrusted in and out. “Do you always wake up this wet for me, Lune?”

My answer was a moan that echoed across the tile as her mouth covered my clit. Her tongue worked in harmony with her fingers’ rhythm, pushing my orgasm deeper and deeper, and just outside the reach of when I’d normally come. Oh, god, this one was going to be huge, wasn’t it?

Was I ready for that? For this mysterious woman to coax even more pleasure and emotion from me than she already had? My heart belonged to another… yet it was as if she were wrestling my soul from Alaric’s cold, dead grip.

Who would win?

Who did I hope would win?

Questions I couldn’t—wouldn’t—ponder. Sex was for forgetting, not for… whatever these thoughts were. My ass hung off the corner of the cold marble countertop as Shiloh devoured me, drop by drop, her blood mixing with my pleasure as her tongue flicked rapidly against my clit.

Finally, I could hold off no longer, my bliss exploding, and I screamed my release while pulling against her curls. If I held her hair tight enough, she’d keep me from floating away in ecstasy.

Though my release whimpered through me, Shiloh didn’t stop her tasting, licking, sucking, and drinking from me until I’d come another three times.

At that point, my sensitive pussy and I begged for reprieve.

When she stopped, she stood, putting her hands on either side of me on the counter.

Of course, I allowed myself a long glance at her perfect physique: strong shoulders, a perfect jaw, sparkling eyes, and her shirt rolled up over her elbows in such an effortlessly sexy way.

I pulled on her suspenders, bringing her in for a kiss.

“Thanks for feeding me,” she whispered gruffly against my lips. “Same place for lunch? Snacks? Dinner?”

I giggled, resting my forehead on her shoulder. “You’re a bit greedy, don’t you think?”

“I’m just a hardworking, hungry girl.” She smirked devilishly. “I’ll always want more of you.”