“I’m sorry. Should I not be in here?”
“It’s okay,” she said without conviction. She walked slowly into the room, as if each step was an effort. Spinning a globe, she sighed. “This room was going to be my wedding gift to Alaric, though he never knew. He died before he ever got to see it.”
“You said he was murdered. Do you know who did it and why?”
“No, it’s a mystery. A gunshot wound. He was a peaceful man. All I can think of is, well, he did do a bit of gambling and played poker and cards. Maybe he made enemies.” She ran her fingers over a feather quill at the corner of the desk. “But Alaric was a good man.”
I leaned back onto the wood and crossed my arms, noting how her gaze fell to my rolled-up sleeves. “What did you love most about him?”
Biting her lip a moment, she shook off a thought and answered. “Alaric was brilliant. So smart, he knew everythingabout everything. Really, I could hardly keep up with him in conversation.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. You’re very bright yourself.”
“Thank you, but my brains were no match for his. Though we’d only known each other a short amount of time. A few parties here and there, a couple dates… he made me feel safe. So, when he asked for my hand… it was an easy yes.”
I hummed. “I’m not sure safety equals love. You deserve both, you know.” She swallowed, and her eyes became glossy with tears. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m an asshole, don’t listen to me. What do I know? Not much beyond my own name, and a ghost named Cora orders me around. Come here.”
Lunette smiled weakly and moved to stand in front of me. Without thinking, I wrapped her in a hug. “Do you need to forget?”
With a sniffle, she leaned back and looked up into my eyes. “Yes. Make this room hold a different sort of memory, please.”
“You and yourplease,” I growled. “You know I’m a fool for you, Lunette Selene, don’t you?”
With a soft nod, she leaned in and kissed me sweetly as I sat back on the desk. My hands wrapped around her waist and scrunched her button-up, casual white dress. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun, the tendrils of snowy strands framing her lovely face.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she breathed, her touch skimming down my front and landing on my belt.
I watched her struggle a moment before replying. “Not sure I can look at you any other way. Is this your first time taking off a belt and trousers?”
“Maybe,” she answered.
My hands slipped under hers, and I unlatched my belt, my pants falling to the floor, leaving me in my beige boxers. She stood back and admired before asking, “Can I?”
“You can do whatever you want, Lune. Whatever helps you create a new memory.” It occurred to me then that while I was fighting to remember, Lunette was fighting to forget.
“I think I have an idea of what would be very, very memorable.” Her fingers slipped under the waistband of my boxers and pulled them over my hips.
I lifted my ass off the desk to help and leaned back, opening my knees. “Oh, yeah? Let’s see it then.”
The corner of her pink lips lifted as she surveyed me. A buffet of flesh upon her dead lover’s desk. Though… if she’d never worked a man’s belt and trousers before… I was hopeful that perhaps her and this guy weren’t lovers at all. All mine, then? All mine. By the look on her face and the way her mouth parted, she liked the look of me, too, and wanted me to be hers. At least in that moment.
Taking my hands, she smiled mischievously as she lowered. I helped her to kneel and sighed as she ran her soft palms down my hips and thighs. “You know, I’ve been dying for a taste of you.” Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes before nuzzling my cunt and breathing me in.
“So dirty for such a prim and proper girl.” My hands glided into her hair and cupped her head. “Are you going to eat me out on this desk, White Witch?”
Tender and seductive, her touch moved to the center of my thighs, and her thumbs parted me. “Yes, I am, and you’re going to enjoy it, my graveyard girl.” She licked her lips, and I watched as she lowered her mouth to my aching cunt.
The feel of her tongue, that first swipe down my slit, knocked me back to rest on my elbows. “Fuck,” I groaned.
A light giggle left her throat. “I’m just getting started, darling. You taste as yummy as you look.”
As her thumbs parted me wide, her lips skimmed my center, top to bottom, bottom to top. Her tongue then traced that same path, stopping to dip inside me. When she did and found my pools of wetness awaiting her, she moaned. “Oh, Shiloh Solair.” She vibrated against my center. “What a delight you are.”
My one hand reached into her hair as the other gripped the side of the desk. My head fell back at the feel of her tongue circling my clit. “Fuck me, fuck, fuck.”
“Are you going to give me what’s mine?” she asked so sweetly, with a mouthful of my cunt. My words from when she rode my thigh repeated back to me. Repeated back to me like she remembered. Repeated back to me like she’d replayed the encounter in her mind as many times as I had.
“All I have is yours,” I confessed breathlessly. My orgasm built as I tried to fight it off, suppress it, not wanting her lips to ever leave my wetness again. That perfect, warm tongue ofa witch flicked against my clit in a steady tempo—breaking me swiftly.
