Skin and Bones (boyxboy) ✓

Epilogue: Part I

Dizzy, I groaned under him, leaning into the kiss, the heat swelling between us. He drove his leg between mine and his hand trailed down my chest. I pressed up with my hands but made no effort.

After some odd four months together I'd figured out that it was really damn hard to say no to the sometimes cruel, possessive hand of Death when it felt so good and came with the softest kisses.

So I melted under him and trembled as his lips closed on the patch of skin where he had left his name marked.

I had to cover it in tattoo tape when I went into work, it was one of his main reasons for objecting as much as he did.

I shivered and gripped his shoulders, the pulsing energy making my legs week and my cock pick up.

"Death..." I groaned. I had no self control, he knew that, he ought to be the one being responsible.

"Be good." He bit my ear.

I moaned as his hand moved lower.

Despite not ultimately coming in late I wasn't having the best day at work. Four case files went missing and we searched all over for them from the cabinet down to the crevices behind the pot plant and the water cooler and finally we found them sitting under my blazer on my desk. Then I sent out an email to a client that was meant to be sent to a different client that had to be recalled but not before the mistake was already flagged on the system.

My boss, who was used to me being one of the most capable ones in the office, was beginning to give me the eye, the one that says I'm considering snacking on your bones later.

I was trying not to blame the obvious culprit of my dazed workday but struggling. I'd gotten barely any sleep last night and the night before that.

Technically, he told me, I didn't need sleep at all.

On top of that I was somehow drawn towards the job of Death's assistant, so that when it came down to it I sort of drifted into helping him out in odd ways.

Every time I showed up he had that pleased little look that made me forget why ghosts were afraid of him.

I rubbed my eyes at my desk and focused on the screen. Finishing something off before heading for the toilet.

I still heard the howling I'd been serenaded with last night. Still felt like I could feel a presence somewhere near me.

Dead people were beginning to get on my nerves.

I had huffed at him and told him I would never quit my job for him, I'd end up like some kind of bored housewife trying to hook up with her tennis coach.

He didn't get the joke in that, maybe he didn't watch enough chick flicks, and swiftly punished me for it even as I tried to explain that it was just a joke.

It worked out for the best anyway, his idea of punishment was not nearly as effective as he hoped it would be.

I left without waking him up the following morning and went to work, just to make a point, convinced I'd figure this double work day thing out. Plenty of people worked two, three jobs. I could do it.

But he wasn't kidding when he said that work would come to me.

Trouble was hovering opposite me, half submerged in the door and floating, as I was sitting there on the toilet.

His wide eyes were looking at me but eyes somehow not meeting mine exactly, I sat still and looked at him with a frown.

No one else was in the toilets but I still didn't love having to talk.