Page 42 of Grave Expectations

“It does,” Alaric agreed, looking up at last to the small crowd that gathered around them. “I suppose I owe them an explanation.”

“Do you?” Roz asked.

Alaric considered a moment. “No, I don’t think I do.”

Then he kissed her again.

EPILOGUE

Roz raked the last of the dead leaves and wiped the sweat from her brow. Albie watched, his body crouched low. “Albie, no!” Roz said, but the stubborn creature had already pounced into the pile and disrupted all her hard work. It was tiring to rake all those leaves, more tiring than seasons before. Was it the anchor, or because she suddenly had so much more in her life? She decided it didn’t matter, because some things are worth sacrifice.

“Albieeee,” Roz whined, rubbing her forehead. “Not so near an empty grave! And that’s the last of the dead leaves. The trees are empty.” She pointed to the leafless trees overhead, deep into their winter decay. At the base of the tree was an open, empty grave with a blank stone. An errant breeze scattered more of the leaves, bringing with it a biting cold and the smell of impending snow.

“Absolutely feral creature,” Alaric remarked, leaning on his shovel. Roz’s gaze snagged on his shirtless chest. The bruises had all faded, but a few scars remained. “Speak for yourself,” Roz said. “And put some clothes on, we’re in public.”

“I got hot,” he said innocently.

“You don’t get hot,” she retorted.

He abandoned his shovel and approached her, tilting her chin upward to look at him. “Guilty,” he said. “Maybe my intent was to seduce you. Is it working?”

“Not at all,” Roz said.

“You’re an awful liar,” he said, bending down to kiss her. It didn’t matter how many times they kissed, or how many times he held her hand, it still was just as exciting as the first time.

Roz leaned into his kiss, pulling him close to her. He grabbed her waist, his mouth traveling down her neck to nip at her throat. Roz moaned and tilted her head back to give him better access.

His hand moved from her waist to her ass, cupping it. His erection pressed against her front. “What if someone sees?” she asked.

“Let them,” he said. A thrill traveled down Roz’s spine. Her mind went to the bakery, at the possibility of someone walking in at any moment and finding them.

His hands returned to her waist, turning her so her back was to his front. He pushed her hair to the side and nipped at her exposed neck. “Hands on the stone,” he ordered, giving her a gentle shove.

Roz leaned forward, her palms resting against the rough surface of the gravestone. Alaric pulled up the fabric of her dress, exposing her backside to him inch by tortuous inch. At last, he bunched the fabric around her waist.

Roz wasn’t sure where to look—did she keep her gaze on the gate? If someone walked in now, they were too far for anyone to really see what they were doing, they had a few moments to stop --

His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties and peeled them down her thighs, helping her to step from them. He traced the apex of her thighs, running along her tender flesh.

“You’re so wet for me,” he breathed. Another cold breeze rolled through the cemetery, raising goosebumps along her exposed skin. She glanced over her shoulder at him and shivered at the look on his face. He was wholly focused on her, his gaze predatory. His pants were undone, his hard cock in his hand. He caught her eye. She started to look away but he tightened his grip on her hip.

“Don’t look away. I want to see your face when I make you come.” He pushed the head of his cock against her entrance, gathering her wetness on his tip. All the while he watched Roz, his gaze never leaving her face.

Then he pushed inside her, a slow but steady push until he was buried fully inside her. He paused there, his chest heaving. Then he began to move, working her with his thrusts. He leaned over her, his fingers sliding over her slippery clit. She so desperately wanted to look back to the entrance of the cemetery, to make sure no one was coming, but she was transfixed by the look of adoration on his face.

His fingers moved quicker and she felt that familiar tightness in her lower abdomen, the start of her climax. She chewed on her bottom lip to keep quiet.

“Don’t,” he said, punctuating his words with a hard thrust. “I want to hear you.”

“But someone could come any minute,” she protested.

“Yes—you,” Alaric affirmed, rolling her clit between his fingers. Her breath shuddered, her core tightening at the sensation. “I know you’re close,” he said, his voice low and husky. He wouldn’t be far behind her when she did come.

“I’m so close,” she whimpered, shoving back to meet his thrusts. They came faster and harder now, his fingers working quickly against her clit.

“Alaric!” she cried, her insides tightening as the first wave of her orgasm hit her. He didn’t slow down, his thrusts punishing as he guided her through each wave of her orgasm.

He thrust two more times before his hips stuttered, shoving into her fully as he came. His groan sent another wave crashing through her, lighting her up from the inside. All the while he never stopped staring at her, his gaze intent on hers.