Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller
Chapter 19
I’ve kissed lessthan a handful of women in my life.
I’ve fucked far more than that.
Kissing is just not something I’ve ever been very fond of.
It’s too intimate. Vulnerable. When your lips are locked with someone else’s, there are too many variables left open for an attack, and I’ve spent my life on high alert, always anticipating an assault.
But when Elena plasters herself against me, clasping her arms around my neck and dragging my lips to hers, I let her. It’s a much more innocent gesture than the scenarios playing out in my mind—thoughts of pinning her against the wall and spearing her on my cock, as if the trauma from the last twenty-four hours wasn’t enough.
I shouldn’t want to add my own brand to the mix.
I don’t know how, but every time our lips meet, she tastes fucking divine; like a holy scripture written to absolve me of my sins, something sweet and succulent and entirely too pure for her own good.
Then again, a completely pure soul probably wouldn’t have looked at me the way she did after I killed Vincent. Probably wouldn’t kiss me while I’m still covered in his blood and intestines.
Perhaps she’s darker than either of us know.
Her breasts press flush against me, nipples searing into my skin, and I step into the shower, into her, since I’m getting soaked anyway. Forcing her backward, I move so she’s pinned between the wall and me, reaching down and gripping her hips until she whimpers beneath my touch.
My breath is hot as it fans across her face, the action almost requiring conscious effort on my part as I get swept away in the slippery feel of her mouth warring with mine. She’s frantic, on a mission to take what she wants from me, and I groan as she nips at my bottom lip, my resolve crumbling with the slight sting, cock stiffening behind my zipper.
Sliding my hands from her hips, I move around, cupping the firm globes of her ass cheeks, and shove my pelvis forward, lifting. She hops into the movement without breaking our kiss, and both of us cry out as she wraps her legs around my waist, and I slam her back into the tile wall.
“I want you,” she mumbles into my mouth, sighing softly when I bring a hand up, tracing that little pomegranate etched into her skin, before flicking my thumb over one pebbled nipple.
The water pours down on us, her head just barely out of the spray, and she blinks up at me with those golden eyes, flushed with need.
I know she wants me—that’s always been part of the problem.
But right now, with her glorious body on display, breasts heavy as they rise and fall with each of her stuttered breaths, her pussy pulsing where it meets my stomach, water stroking down every inch of skin I want to drag my tongue over—I can’t remember anything except the fact that she’s mine.
Regardless of the situation that led us to this point, or the lack of love or reality between us, that caveat remains.
“You’re sure?” I can’t help but ask, needing verbal reassurance even after I examined her earlier.
She nods. “Make me yours.”
Tearing myself from our kiss, I dip my head, pushing her ass up until I can take a nipple into my mouth; I lash my tongue out in quick, short bursts, and her entire body shudders.
“Oh, my little Persephone,” I say, slowly drawing circles around the dusty pink peak, keeping eye contact as I lap at her. “You already are.”
Despite the purple bruising around one eye, she pinches them both shut when I close my lips over her, sucking and roving until she’s a panting, squirming disastrous beauty. Her fingers thread through my wet hair and tug, encouraging more, grinding her hips forward as she begs for it.
Pulling back, I release her tit with a wet pop, shifting to repeat my actions on the other; I fit the flat of my tongue on the underside and trail up, replacing droplets of water with my DNA, engulfing her when I reach the nipple.
My fingers dig into the meat of her ass, definitely leaving bruises, but there isn’t a single part of me that cares at the moment.
I want her covered in my marks. Purpled from my fingertips, lips red and raw from my own, pussy swollen and dripping my cum.
Flesh broken and bleeding for me.
After tonight, I want there to be no mistaking whose bed she lies in at night. Whose cock she takes, anyway I’ll give it. Whose blood sings for hers.
My body temperature spikes at the notion, the urge to brand her as quickly as possible taking over my actions. Scraping my teeth gently over her once, I test her reaction; she arches into it, as if silently begging for more. Taking her nipple between my teeth, I bite down, watching her chin snap up and her eyes pop open.
“Fuck,” she breathes, fingers tightening in my hair.
“You like that?” I murmur, increasing the pressure.
Her throat contracts and she nods.
Grinning, I nip again, setting her down as I slide lower; I shift, pulling my arms around her thighs so I can drape them over my shoulders, dropping to my knees on the shower floor. Her pale pink panties are soaked through, doing nothing to hide the outline of her swollen sex to my hungry gaze.
I lick my lips, glancing up at her as my hands glide up her thighs and slip a thumb beneath the fabric on her hips. They’re lace, so they tear with little effort, and I toss them aside, taking a moment to admire the silken flesh between my wife’s thighs.
One of her hands comes up to her breast, kneading softly. With each move I make, she watches, eyes blazing. I inch forward, coasting my lips up the expanse of her thigh, and she never removes her gaze.
I pause, seeing the new cut from whoever accosted her at the bus station; a sliver sliced into her skin by an amateur knifeman, hooking on the end of the K I put there.
Elena blinks down at me, emotion welling in her irises, like my hesitance is making every bad memory flood back. Gritting my teeth for a second, I move in and score my teeth over the wound, reopening it.
Blood beads in the cut immediately, and I cover the area with my mouth, slowly running my tongue over the coppery fluid.
I swirl back and forth, letting her soak my tastebuds, reveling in her lack of resistance. In the look of awe that shines in her gaze.
She shivers, scratching at my scalp as I suck at the site, desperate to memorize the taste, but she never breaks her stare. Like I’m the actor in a play put on for her own viewing pleasure, and she can’t bear to look away in case she misses something important.
She wants a show, I’ll give her fireworks.
Skimming my way past the wound, I drift inward, smearing her blood and loving the way the crimson complements her creamy skin, like a field of red and white poppies.
My gut clenches tight as I reach her glistening pussy, brushing my nose over her lips, inhaling the tang of her arousal. Wrapping my arms around her thighs, securing her in place against the wall, I slowly dive in, parting her with my tongue and flicking at her clit with the tip.
She cries out at the first lap on her sensitive flesh, legs already shaking against my ears, like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.
It spurs me on, sending a shock wave down the length of my spine, and I redouble my efforts, fusing my mouth to her sopping core, licking and swirling and teasing until I’m groaning into her, high on her sweet taste.
Before the night we shared together, it’d been years since I’d been with anyone else. After a bit of a chaotic, post-heartbreak phase, I threw myself into work and tried to establish a relationship with my sister, denying myself the basic carnal pleasures in life.
Until last Christmas, I hadn’t known that anything was missing.
Didn’t realize that I was practically living without one of my limbs, trying to navigate life as though nothing was wrong.
I’d been frantic, desperate to sink inside of her after wanting her from afar for so long. She’d been just as frenzied, matching my energy with each thrust, eager to obey my every command, and our time had been short. A spark that ignited quickly, and burned out before it could fully expand.
I have no intentions of that being the case now.
“Kallum...” she chokes out, jutting her hips, pushing herself tighter against me. “Please.”
Her clit throbs beneath my tongue, and I suckle greedily at the bundle of nerves like she’s the antidote to a life of misery. Her gyrations send electricity surging through my veins, and I lap faster, harsher, trying to create more friction against her.
“Please what?” I ask, without removing myself from her pussy; the words vibrate against her skin, and she trembles violently, on the precipice of release.
Shifting my efforts, I angle my tongue slightly and switch to counterclockwise motions, slowing the speed until she’s tossing her head back and riding the movements.
Pausing when I don’t hear any words on her part, I raise an eyebrow, pulling back. She grunts, yanking at my hair, trying to get me to go back in.
“Please what, Elena?” I repeat, my voice thick.
She frowns, her eyebrows knitting together. “You already know what.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
Releasing the stress on my scalp, her fingers go slack, and she glares down at me. “You’re joking, right?”
“I’d never joke about making you come.” My cock is rock hard just thinking about it.
“Then why don’t you just do it?”
“I will,” I promise, accenting the word with a puff of air on her clit. She jolts, fingers repurposing themselves in my roots, throat working over a swallow. “As soon as you ask me to.”
Gritting her teeth, she flares her nostrils, her brain likely having a difficult time even trying to process what exactly I’m telling her to do. In any other situation, she’d probably already have done it, but as she floats in that exotic limbo state, release just out of reach, obedience is the furthest thing from her mind.
Still, after a beat, she whimpers in frustration. “Please make me come, Kallum. I’m begging.”
Before she’s even finished the sentence, I’m shoving back in, spreading her open with my tongue before driving back up and feasting on her clit. It swells under my ministrations, pulsing in time with the beat of my heart, and then finally as I draw figure eights over the hood, she breaks.
Mouth parting on a silent scream, her thighs tighten around my ears. She tugs on my hair until pain lances across my scalp, coming so hard that it seems to steal the breath from her lungs.
I slurp at her juices as they mix with the water from the shower, almost blowing a load myself as she soaks my face.
As wave after wave of pleasure rolls through her, like a tsunami after an underwater earthquake, she curls and arches her back, as if trying to prolong the sensations.
Finally, she slumps against the wall, and I pull back, giving her one last lick along her seam, before wiping my mouth on the inside of her thigh and gently removing her legs from their vise grip around my neck.
She pants, breathless, as I stagger to my full height, my dick so hard I can barely see straight. Glancing down at it as it strains against my slacks, she smirks, smoothing a shaky hand over the length.
I jerk into her motion, probably only a pump away from busting. Her naked body almost seems to glow as she steps forward, molding herself to me once again, an invitation in her golden eyes.
“Your turn?” she asks, but I shake my head, reaching down to once again pull her into my arms. Her legs lock around me instantly, and I turn so we’re propped against the glass shower door, holding her up with my hips as I fumble with my zipper.
“Won’t last in your mouth,” I grit out, my hands struggling to keep up with the frantic desire racing through me. I pause, raking my gaze down the wet curves of her body, awestruck by the soft planes, the delicate swells, the fingerprints I’ve already left behind. “Need to come inside this sweet pussy again.”
“Yes,” she hisses, reaching between us to help get me out.
Her breath catches as my cock bobs free, a pearly bead bubbling at the tip, evidence of how much I want her. She bites her lip, looking at me from beneath hooded lashes, and wraps her fingers around my shaft, the tips not quite touching, dragging them up and down slowly.
I moan, dropping my nose into her hair, inhaling deeply. Her motions send sparks spiraling through me, seizing my balls to the point where they ache with the need for release.
“Christ,” I rasp, clutching her thighs until I feel the skin break, “I can’t, Elena. You feel too good, and I’m not coming in your hand our first time.”
“Technically, this is like the fourth time,” she says, speeding up her pumps, tightening her grip until my vision blurs. “Come for me, Kallum.”
Shaking my head again, I shove her hand away, pushing her ass into the glass behind it.
“I’m fucking going to, little one.” Taking my cock in my hand, I pump once, positioning myself at her entrance. “And you’re going to wish you hadn’t opened that door. By the time I’m done with you, I’ll have pumped you so full, it’ll be seeping out of your pores. You’re going to sweat me, and no one else is ever going to touch you again.”
With my free hand, I grip her chin, forcing eye contact, and then I press inside of her, slowly sheathing the entire length in her wet heat.
She cups the back of my head, pulling me into a hot, openmouthed kiss, and we moan together as our bodies join, legitimizing our marriage and solidifying my obsession once and for all.
