Promises and Pomegranates: A Dark Contemporary Romance (Monsters & Muses Book 1)

by Sav R. Miller

  “Elena,” I say, forcing my voice to stay even, despite the irritation flowing through me. Not at her, but at everything else in my life. “I’m in the middle of something. Can this wait?”

  “I don’t know, Kal, because we never discussed sexually transmitted diseases, and I’ve just had the most interesting conversation with some girl out front who knows you.” Her lips curl back in a sneer. “You’re the only one I’ve been with, so as far as that goes, you’re okay, but am I? Who fucking knows, since apparently I really am the cliché virgin archetype, and I just trust that a man with so much more life experience than me—a freaking doctor, even—would know better.”

  “Jesus.” Dragging a hand down the side of my face, I rub at an ache in my jaw. Looking at Jonas, I nod toward the door. “You can see yourself out.”

  “I wouldn’t mind staying for the show.”

  I pin him with a look, and he huffs but gets to his feet anyway, making his combat boots thud harder against the floor than normal. When he reaches the door, Elena shifts slightly to the side to grant him passage, never taking her gaze off me.

  “Go easy on him, will ya, love?” Jonas says, and I have to grip on to the plastic armrests on my chair to keep from launching myself at him, and tearing his intestines through his asshole for even looking at her, after everything.

  She turns, blinking, clearly taken aback, though by his accent or the fact that he’s speaking to her at all, I can’t quite tell. It’s instantaneous, the way his attention extinguishes her fire, fingers pinching a flame until it no longer exists.

  “Who are you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes, taking in the leather jacket stretched across broad shoulders, the unkempt beard, the general sense of danger that follows him like a storm cloud.

  Her foot inches backward ever so slightly; Jonas doesn’t seem to notice, but I catch it, and the retreat twists my stomach in knots.

  “Jonas Wolfe, pleased to meet you,” he says, tipping his chin down in acknowledgment. “Not surprised you didn’t know that, though. That one over there is bloody terrible at introductions.”

  He hooks his thumb in my direction, and I feel the barrier between my patience and my lack thereof waning the longer he stands here, defying me openly.

  “How about I introduce you to the inside of a casket?” I say, unhooking my gun from where it’s strapped at my waist, cocking the pistol and loading a magazine into the chamber.

  Pointing it directly at Jonas’s kneecap, I let my index finger ghost over the trigger, counting down in my head to see how long it takes him to move.

  He ignores me, giving Elena a conspiratorial smile. “Not the most polite fella, is he?”

  “Not really,” she quietly agrees, shifting her eyes to mine; the heat from before slowly morphs to something duller, something needy.

  There’s a discomfort hidden in her depths, and it takes me a second to recognize how walking back in here after being attacked might make her feel.

  That although it’s been weeks, she might still need to ease into it, and by barreling inside to confront me, maybe she’s skipped a few important steps of recovery.

  Even the strongest glass cracks under enough pressure.

  “Goodbye, Jonas,” I snap, pinching one eye closed to better my aim. Just as I start to pull back on the trigger, uncaring that there are customers outside, he yanks open the door.

  “All right,” he says, waving the folder in my direction, nodding at Elena. “Again, pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Elena. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  She nods, not breaking my stare, and then he’s slipping from the room without another word, pulling the door shut behind him.

  “Lock the door, and walk to me slowly,” I command, crooking my index finger in a come-hither gesture.

  It takes her a moment, hesitation flickering across her features for a breath, but then she turns, obeying with shaky hands. Her throat bobs hard over a swallow as she starts toward me, pressing her palms into her stomach, more demure and submissive than I’ve ever seen her before.

  The contrast is almost startling, the girl who burst into the office just minutes ago not even comparable to the one standing in front of me.

  “Now,” I say, putting the gun on the desk as I sit up straight and smooth my hands over my thighs. “Have a seat.”

  Her eyebrows draw inward, and she glances around, noting that the only other chair in the office is the one tucked into Jonas’s desk. Slowly, her eyes slide back to me, that sweet, familiar blush creeping up her neck.

  “Is that appropriate? Your friend could come back in.”

  “With the door locked? Doubtful.” Patting my lap, I raise my brows expectantly, watching as she wrestles with uncertainty. “You can sit wherever you’d like, little one, if you really aren’t comfortable. On the desk, on the floor. You can even remain standing. But regardless, I need you to communicate with me, starting with what you were spewing when you stormed in here.”

  Curling and uncurling her fists, she struggles, eyes shifting around the room as she seems to search for the words. Finally, she nods again, then closes the distance between us, draping herself over my lap.

  The dress she has on hikes high up on her thighs, and I tug it down as she gets situated, desperate to feel her that way again, but also aware that she’s clearly going through something. And right now, she needs more than a quick, rough fuck.

  “So,” I prompt, tangling my fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, tilting her head back slightly. “You met a girl outside.”

  She swallows, her throat working with the motion. Her eyes are wide in this position, vulnerable as she’s forced to stare up at me, and it sets my entire fucking soul on fire.

  “And you automatically assumed she was someone I’ve been intimate with in the past? Or, am currently being intimate with, if your earlier accusation stands.”

  “She said she knew you.”

  Tugging her head back more, I skim my nose over the smooth expanse of her neck, inhaling deeply. My lips part, my top row of teeth gently scraping the scabbed bruise decorating the valley between her throat and shoulder.

  I’ve seen many works of art in my lifetime, all different variants of the term, but I’ve never seen any as breathtaking as her. The pale canvas of her supple flesh painted with the evidence of our sins.

  “I know a lot of people, Elena. I certainly don’t sleep with everyone I meet.” Biting down, I sink my teeth into the thick muscle running up the side of her throat, pulling her into me as she jerks with the onslaught of pain.

  “She knew me, too,” Elena whispers, fingers fisting in the collar of my shirt. “Seemed pretty surprised that I couldn’t return the sentiment. And it just made me realize...”

  When she trails off, I pull back until our noses graze each other, waiting for more. “What?”

  “I barely know you,” she says, and though it’s delivered with as much softness as she can muster, I don’t miss the implication hidden beneath its surface. The accusation still rife in her tone, as if she wants to believe in me, but can’t fully bring herself to.

  Sucking in my next breath feels like trying to swallow hot coals, and I release it slowly through my nose, focusing on the steady thump of her pulse beating at the base of her throat.

  My tongue is thick when I speak, an obstacle I have to talk around. “What do you want to know?”

  Somehow, before she even opens her mouth again, I know her answer’s going to be everything.

  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 o
f 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.