Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller
Chapter 24
Somehow,even before he says anything at all, I know he’s not actually about to tell me everything.
Why reveal all your moves when the game is nowhere near over?
Kal shifts me up his lap, maneuvering me so my ass is cradled by his forearm, partially resting on the chair, and I’m somewhat looking down at him. It feels like a silent acquiescence, like because he knows he can’t very well give me all his secrets, he can at least give me some of the power.
He slips his left hand between my thighs, and for a second I think he’s about to try and distract me by gliding up and under my dress, but he doesn’t. His fingers squeeze once, then settle on a solid grip, and he looks at me as though waiting for me to proceed.
I wring my hands together and shrug. “To be honest, I don’t know where to begin.”
“We don’t have to go over a lifetime of issues in one afternoon. Why don’t you start with what bothers you the most, not knowing?”
He’s so logical, so levelheaded, that it almost makes me feel stupid for even coming in here at all. Even though it’s obvious that my slight freak out was an extension of something bigger, at least to me, embarrassment weaves a gnarly tapestry in my chest, impossible to ignore.
I nibble on the inside of my cheek, racking my brain. “Are you sleeping with anyone else?”
“Would it trouble you if I was?” he asks, glancing down at where his hand sits. “For reasons... other than risking your health?”
Dropping my gaze to his collarbone, peeking out from where I’ve pulled down his shirt, I weigh the consequences of admitting the truth. Of breaking myself open for a man I’m already aware can’t ever love me, and how it might feel to bleed out for once and not have him blot up the mess.
But I always did like the pain.
“Yes,” I mutter, my tongue still not completely on board with my heart.
His fingers flex, the metal of his wedding band icy as it presses into me. A hard look passes over his face, causing his pupils to dilate, but the rest of him remains perfectly still. “No. I’m not.”
Breath whooshes from me, relief draining my lungs, and I start to move onto the next question, my mind firing full speed ahead, when the hand on my thigh clamps down, shooting a sharp spark of pain down the length of my leg.
The area blossoms bright red, and he relaxes his hold right when I move to shove him away, smoothing the pads of his fingers over the site.
“Ow,” I say, annoyance flaring in the pit of my stomach.
“I think the better question, though, is why you think I’m sleeping with someone else.” Now, his hand does inch up, the tip of his middle finger disappearing beneath the hem of my dress, pausing there. “Was I unclear about the fact that our marriage is real?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s just—”
“Just what? Insecurity? Jealousy?” Another inch slips past, and my breath hitches as he grazes the scarred K. “I’ll admit, your jealousy is fucking delectable, little one. Gets me hard as a goddamn rock just thinking about it.”
As if on some sort of cue, I feel his erection stiffen beneath me, straining against the fabric of his suit pants. Moisture collects between my legs, flushing my body with need.
Raising my eyebrows, I tear myself from watching his ascent, goose bumps sprouting along my skin. “Don’t most people think jealousy is bad?”
“Less evolved folks than me, perhaps. Or more, depending on how you look at it.” I gasp as he brushes the tip of a finger over my core, the sweep brief and featherlight, as if he’s just testing the waters. “But what it tells me, with us, is that you’re as fucking crazy as I am.”
I blink, my heart actually stalling out inside my chest. “What?”
“The thought of you even looking at someone else fills me with an indescribable ache,” he says, punctuating the last word by thrusting a finger into my sex, making room where there previously was none. “An ache I have no right to feel, no right to indulge, but God, I can’t help it sometimes. Anyone glances in your direction, and I’m tempted to rip their fucking heart out. I like knowing you feel it too.”
He curls against me, stroking slowly, maddeningly, and my head falls back onto my shoulders, my neck practically snapping in half with the sudden weight.
Chest rising and falling in time with the motion of his finger, he watches me with parted lips and hooded lids, like he’s growing aroused with each stuttered breath expelling from my lungs.
“Do you get it, little one?” he says, plunging two more fingers inside me, spreading them so I’m stretching around him, desperate to be filled. “No one awakens that sensation in me, so how could I ever find myself drawn to another’s bed? You make me feel...”
My soft gasp distracts him, my orgasm pooling at the base of my spine, coiling so tight it makes my body bow inward. The squelching sounds coming from where he pushes in and out of me reverberate off the office walls, so loud I wonder if they won’t absorb through the plaster and reach the ears of the customers outside.
Somehow, without ever removing his fingers from inside of me, Kal lifts and backs me up so we’re plastered against the door, snaking his free hand down the length of my body; he yanks the neckline of my dress beneath my breasts, thrumming one pebbled nipple, before dropping to his knees.
“Jesus, do you hear that? How wet my voice and fingers make you? Do you feel how badly your sweet little pussy tries to suck me up?”
Really, I’m having a hard time concentrating on the words coming out of his mouth, much less the obnoxious way my body opens for him.
Shoving my dress to my waist, he glances up at me, the dark look in his eyes cinching the muscles in my chest. “Do not let that fall,” he says, taking one of my hands and clasping the material to my hip, leaning in so his hot breath skates across my pussy.
“Kal, there are people—”
He smiles, devilish and hungry and foreign. I’ve never, ever, seen him smile.
Bringing his forearm up, he uses it to pin my hips against the door, bracketing me between his lips and the wood. I swallow, the ferocity in his eyes roping my stomach into one giant knot.
“I want them to hear, little one. Want them to know what I do to you, what only I can.” One lick, splicing right up my seam as he drives his fingers in quicker, and I’m already on the cusp of a fucking revelation. “If you’re jealous, I’m a goddamn psychopath.”
Latching his mouth to my clit, he fishes a groan from my esophagus, searing my insides as it puffs past my lips. Moving in fast, short flicks, his tongue lashes against me, sending frissons of electricity singing through my nerve endings.
“Look at me, Elena,” he says around swirls, his mouth vibrating against my lips, creating a delicious sensation that duels with his ministrations. “Look at your husband when you come for him.”
“Oh, God.” My head slams back against the door, eyes fluttering shut.
“I doubt He could get you off like this,” Kal says, teeth nipping at my second pulse, pulling me to attention. “Eyes on me.”
His command leaves no room for protest, his stare pulling me in and refusing to let go. Sealing his lips around me, he sucks my clit into his mouth, pressing the flat of his tongue to its hood.
“What?” I croak, remembering his unfinished admission, my hips rising to meet the full motion, chasing sweet release. “What do I make you feel?”
Lust flares in his irises, darkening them until they’re as black as his hair, and he releases me just enough to free his tongue for a second, leaving me wanton and empty.
“Alive,” he growls, diving back in to get the meal he dropped to his knees for. As he works me over, impaling me on his fingers and massaging with his tongue, my pussy quivers, threatening to explode. “You there? Come for me, wife. Show me how crazy I make you.”
I nod, frantic, barely able to keep eye contact as the euphoric wave rears its head, crashing over me with such force that my vision splits, breaking in half as my body convulses. He laps at me, grunting and groaning like I’m the most satisfying delicacy he’s ever tasted, and his sounds spur me on, dragging out shock after shock as my orgasm pounds through me.
My body slowly drifts back to Earth’s orbit as he disentangles himself from me, my juices coating his mouth. He wipes his lips and fingers over the scar on my thigh, as if in some kind of post-lunch ritual.
Pushing to his feet, he smooths his hands down over his chest and rights my skirt, leaving my breasts exposed to the air. I note the outline of his cock, barely constrained by his pants, as he pauses to admire the rise and fall of my chest.
“Such pretty skin,” he says, eyes locking onto the cut he likes to draw from each time we fuck.
“Mark it,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
His eyes snap to mine, blazing with unabashed desire. He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple jumping, and takes a step closer. “Yeah? You’d like that?”
I nod, licking my lips, letting myself look between us again. Even though I’ve just come, my body soars to life at the evidence of his arousal, my pussy clenching as if starved.
Reaching out, he cups my breasts, squeezing the undersides in his palms, then sweeps his thumbs over the pebbled peaks. “On your knees, then.”
That’s not exactly what I had in mind,I think, dropping to repay the favor anyway. Willing to do whatever it takes to keep this man looking at me like I hung the stars in the sky with my bare hands.
Maybe, for a man so used to the dark of night, that’s exactly what I did.
He unbuckles his pants, slowly dragging the zipper down one tooth at a time. Shallow breaths spill from my chest as I blink up at him, mouth level with his cock when it bobs free, curving slightly up toward his abdomen.
My mouth waters at the sight of his thick, veiny erection, and immediately I lean in to kiss the purple crown. I haven’t given many blow jobs, as he’s seemed somewhat reluctant to receive them, but the hiss that escapes each time my mouth connects with him makes me feel like I’m doing something right.
Kal threads his fingers through the hair above my ears, holding me in place with his cockhead against my lips.
“I want to tell you everything about me,” he says, moving my head from side to side, coating my flesh in the pearly beads of precum oozing from his tip. “You make me want to spill every secret I’ve ever had, Elena. That’s not something that happens... well, ever. Not for me.”
I don’t respond verbally, parting my mouth and taking him between my lips instead, showing him how his admission makes me feel. And even though I don’t feel like I’m getting answers to anything else today, the promise hidden in his words somehow makes up for that.
Pulling him farther into my mouth, I swirl my tongue over his shaft, hollowing my cheeks when I reach as far as I can go. His fingers in my hair are warm, gentle, despite the urgency in his breathing and the distraught tone of his words.
“I’m not surprised my little slut wife has such a dirty fucking mouth,” he grunts, hips jerking as I lap at the slit in his tip, then push back onto his length. “You were fucking made for me, weren’t you? Made to take my cock. Made to be my little cock whore.”
I hum in agreement, his dirty mouth stirring an eagerness in my belly, the need to make this phenomenal blotting out everything else in my brain.
My nails claw at his pants, digging into his thighs as I try to scramble closer, bobbing up and down in time with my second pulse.
“Touch yourself,” he says darkly, the command sending a shiver down my spine.
I pull off with a pop, my sex clenching in anticipation.
“I don’t want to be sore,” I say. “I can’t.”
“You will,” he replies, a challenge lacing his brow. Renewing the force of his grip on my scalp, he yanks me to his slobbery cock, smacking me across the cheek with it once, twice, before pushing back in. “Relax your throat and play with your pussy. Can you do that for me?”
I hesitate, again, my fingers twitching, but eventually nod slightly. He exhales, shoving his cock to the back of my throat; I flatten my tongue at the last second, his command about relaxing barely registering enough for me to go through with it, and try not to retch.
His eyes never leave mine, even when he keeps me flush against him, my nose tickling his pubic bone. When it becomes evident he doesn’t plan on letting me up until I touch myself, my fingers drift to the apex of my thighs, swiping through my sopping folds.
As soon as I make contact, I wince, still sensitive from the orgasm he gave me. Heat floods my face and my vision blurs, and Kal drags me off, sputtering and coughing as oxygen invades my nostrils.
Saliva coats my lips, dripping down my chin, a thin layer connecting me to him, and I feel that familiar pressure building inside me, taking precedence over the soreness.
I circle two fingers over my clit, working furiously as ecstasy courses through me, and he chuckles, pushing past my lips and repeating the same air-robbing motion.
A wave of something that looks twisted, stuck between pain and pleasure, washes over his face, and as he removes my mouth again, he sighs.
“I’m going to come, little one. Mark you, like you asked. And you’re going to wear it out of here, like a good little slut wife.” He brushes over my swollen mouth with his thumb, and I rub myself faster, trying to get to where he is. “Okay?”
I nod, sticking my tongue out in acceptance.
Sliding back in, his crown pokes my throat, coasting in and out for several strokes, as if gearing up for a finale. My clit swells to the point where it feels like it might burst, sparks flying where my fingers work, and then he pushes to the hilt, keeping me in place.
All other thought dissipates as I focus on relaxing into his hold, absorbing the salty musk of his arousal, and the way his abdomen ripples with his impending climax. My fingers fly, rubbing and kneading, my chest getting light as it becomes more and more difficult to breathe.
I feel it, my consciousness floating past my fingertips, just out of reach, and with it, my release.
“I want to hear it,” he says, tapping my nose. “When you come with my cock in your throat, I want to fucking hear it.”
It begins before he’s even done speaking, erupting like a volcano as the corners of my eyes darken. My clit throbs beneath the pressure of my fingers, and as Kal pulls away just enough to thrust back in, I cry out as shock and elation mix in my gut, powering through every nerve in my body.
“That’s it.” Kal groans, the sound soft and primal, and I swear I feel him swell in my mouth, ropes of hot semen rushing out as he comes.
He withdraws from me while the stream continues spurting, dragging his slit over my lips and then pointing down at my breasts, coating them in his seed.
Collapsing against the door, he gulps in a lungful of air, brushing sweat from where it percolates on his forehead. “Jesus. I think one day you might kill me.”
Catching my breath on the ground, I take a minute to collect myself. Smirking, I push to my feet on wobbly legs, looking around for a tissue to dry myself with. I walk to the desk and pluck one from its box, but he clicks his tongue in disapproval.
“What are you doing?” He joins me, taking the tissue from my fingers. “Did you think I was kidding about you leaving here covered in my cum?”
My cheeks flame. “I just thought it was kind of a heat of the moment thing.”
“It’s always the heat of the moment with you,” he says, that weird fucking smile back in place as he maneuvers my arms back into my dress, pulling the neck up over my breasts. His cum is cool against the soft fabric, hidden beneath it, but I can smell it.
I know it’s there, like a secret the two of us share, and the notion makes me feel... alive.
