“Are your friends ghosts or something?”
He squeezes my hand as he pulls us toward a few plots. “Relax, they’re dead. Can’t be any worse than the living,” he says as he wiggles his eyebrows toward me. He’s quiet when we stop in front of a row of tombstones. I scrunch my face, reading the worn names engraved into each of the weathered stones.Jane, Baby Jane, Jonah Senior, and Sera Lucille—Lucy.As I read the names, I know why this place is special to him.
I take a small step toward Lucy first. There’s a tiny wooden cross planted beside her stone. I’ve never done this before, so I wing it. “Hi, Lucy, my name is Catarina.” Zed steps beside me and his hand touches my back. I look at the two stones a few feet from her that are close together. “Those are your friend Jonah’s parents?”
He nods. “And his infant sister.” I’m not sure if I should ask about anything, especially about Jonah, but I do.
“And Jonah?”
He nods toward the small wooden cross. “That’s what the cross beside Lucy is for.”
“Oh. Why doesn’t he have a marker?”
He walks toward another plot, his voice trailing off with him. “Fenris wouldn’t allow one without a body.”
Why the fuck isnt there a body?I ask myself.
“Harold went out looking for him, and I searched every inch of these woods, but neither of us found him.”
He stops, reaching behind a blank but weathered tombstone to pull out a small picnic basket before walking back over to me. He pulls a blanket out, unfolding it and spreading it on the ground. We lay down together, the night air feeling cool against my skin, and turn our eyes to the stars. I’m so wrapped up in talking about constellations—the Big Dipper, Orion, and so on—that I don’t even realize he’s just watching me.
I look over and find Zed’s eyes are fixed on me. I see the want in them, and before I have time to react, he’s on top of me, his body pressing me into the blanket. I can feel my heart race as his breath brushes against me. His strong hands find their way to my thighs before his fingers nestle under my dress, feeling their way up. His touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. Zed pulls away from me, just enough so I’m able to catch my breath.
My eyes are closed and I feel his lips hovering over mine. His fingers slide down my sides as he continues exploring my body under the dress, teasing me, cupping my breasts. When he pulls back I look up at him. His eyebrow is arched and a smirk plays on his lips. “Did you forget something?”
“Nope,” I say, knowing he’s talking about the bra I’m clearly not wearing, and he groans before nuzzling his face in my neck.
I look up at his silhouette framed by the moon’s pale light. Before I know it he’s pulling me to my feet and I stumble forward, my legs suddenly shaky. When I’m finally balanced he tucks the hair behind my ear and leans in. “You should run.” I freeze, unsure if he’s serious. But from the look on his face and the challenge in his voice when he repeats himself, my uncertainty goes out the window. “I said, run.”
With those words, I don’t hesitate. I turn and bolt. I can hear my heartbeat pounding over the sound of my feet crunching over the leaves and twigs scattered on the ground. But the sounds of him picking up speed, chasing after me, quickly overtakes everything. My breathing is ragged and I feel the moment myadrenaline spikes. I’m not sure why he wants me to run, but what I do know is that I want to be caught. I don’t even make it out of the graveyard before his muscular arm snakes around my waist. He’s harsh with his touch when he hauls me backwards and I slam into him.
“I’ve got you,” he taunts. When I’m pushed to the dirt, my dress pulls down, exposing me to the cold air. My nipples harden instantly, and the damp soil begins to cake on my back as he straddles me. He uses one hand to pin both of my wrists above my head as I struggle against him, but not in an attempt to break free of his hold. No. I want to feel him overpower me. I need to feel him take from me. He envelopes around me, squeezing in his knees to stop my hips from moving.
“You like this, don’t you?” His breath is hot against my earlobe. “You like being at my mercy.” I don’t answer, I don’t need to. He can see it in my eyes. He can feel it in the way I’m now arching my back into him. His hands are demanding as he pushes under my dress, finding my panties. I gasp when they’re jerked down my thighs in one swift motion.
“Don’t. Move.” He pulls back, sliding my panties over my ankles before he’s on top of me again, grinding his hips into mine. He arches over, bringing his mouth to my neck.
I feel his tongue slide up and down my neck before biting me. A hiss escapes me before I feel his mouth suck the tender area.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” His eyes roll to the back of his head, the sight of his pleasure is enough to pull a whimper from me, which works in my favor. He doesn’t make me wait any longer before my dress is torn from my body. I hear his fingers fumble with his belt buckle, then immediately I feel him sliding inside of me with ease, due to how wet I am, not because I’ve gotten used to his size—I haven’t. He stretches me open, slow and deep as I let my body melt into the burn. I cry out from the sensation as he begins to pump in and out of me.
He growls, his hands finding my hips, holding me still as he thrusts into me again and again. The dirt keeps shifting under me with every movement we make. “I’ll never let you go.”
I manage to speak in between his thrusts. “I never want you to.”
He doesn’t let up, and the tension builds inside of me. It coils tighter and tighter to the point it’s unbearable. He positions himself above me so his fingers can find my clit before caressing small circles around it. “Come.” He pushes in. “For.” He pulls his dick out, only leaving the head inside of me. “Me.” When he thrusts back in, an orgasm rips through me.
My body hasn’t even stopped convulsing around his cock before he pulls out and jerks me to my knees. He presses my body against a cold, hard surface, and I shiver at the contact when he steadies my head with both hands, right where he wants me. He steps out of the jeans pooled at his ankles, propping one foot up on the stone I’m pushed against. The other shifts wide, giving him an advantage to angle his stance, sinking just barely to lower his height.
His eyes don’t leave mine as he rams two fingers into my mouth, pressing down my tongue. Tears prickle at my eyes and when I gag, he looks down at me, smiling. “Open your mouth.” His warm hand cradles my chin as he pushes his dick between my lips, face-fucking me with slow and deliberate pumps. My jaw almost doesn’t allow me enough space to accommodate his size. I taste our mixture on my tongue, my moan is muffled as he drives into me. He grabs my hair, pulling my head back, looking into my eyes.
“You’re so fucking pretty when you suck my dick.” He pulls back with a loud wet pop, his dick freeing from my mouth. He reaches down between my legs and finds my clit. “Your pussy tells me you want more.” He pushes his wet fingers in my mouth once again, and I let out a moan around them.
“Your need tastes sweet, doesn’t it?”
My lips are swollen and my jaw aches, so I just nod, biting my bottom lip. He snatches my arm, pulling me to my feet. They trip over one another as he yanks me into him. “Turn around,” he commands, my pussy weeping for what I know is coming next. The spin he causes my body to do is sharp, and now my back faces him.
The stone is rough and bites into my skin, but the discomfort barely even registers when he pushes me down, bending me over the cold, hard surface of the tombstone. “You can’t run from me now.” My heart pounds and my mind thinks of how wrong this is, but the thought disappears when I feel the hard sting of his hand coming down on my bare ass.
