Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

My fingers clutch at his shoulders, reveling in the thick muscle beneath his
skin, and then I pause, feeling pockets of uniquely rough, yet soft flesh.
The same spots graze my stomach as I press into him, and my heart sinks
low in my chest, thumping hard between us.
Meeting his gaze as my fingers continue their exploration, I do my best
not to look down, sure that whatever I find there will humanize him. That I
won’t be able to resist the brokenness, and my attraction will let loose and
morph into something real.
Something that can hurt me.
Sadness burns the back of my throat as I recognize the puckered skin,
counting eight spots on his right shoulder, then five on the left. I slide my
palms in, cupping the base of his neck, absorbing the force of his swallow.
His eyes betray nothing—no vulnerability, no awareness, no shame. They
stare at me blankly, a practiced ambivalence reflecting back, even though I
can tell by the way the tendons in his throat tense up that he doesn’t like any
of this.
“I’m no god,” he says finally, releasing a stilted breath. His fingers dig
into my ass, holding me upright, and I feel his cock bob against me, seeking
entrance without him even guiding it. “Just an unlucky soul, who somehow
has managed to cheat death over a hundred times.”
Taking a chance, I drop my chin, coasting my gaze over his slick, sunsoaked
skin. For the most part, it’s smooth and bronzed, the tone apparently
natural given his propensity for the indoors.
But the larger planes are marred, decorated by shiny divots that shimmer
in the light reflecting off the water. Some are smaller than others, some long
and wide, scattered in various places along his entire torso.
There’s a particularly lengthy one stretching over his rib cage, and I
tentatively drop my hand to the mark, smoothing my thumb over it. It’s
gnarly, mangled and a little less pink than the others, bubbling up past the
surface of his skin.
He sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, and I freeze, eyes widening.
“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry. Did that hurt?”
Adjusting his hold on my ass, Kal chuckles, hoisting me up higher on his
waist. My pussy pulses where our skin meets, the onslaught of immediate
sensation making me dizzy.
“It’s not a pleasant feeling,” he says, his mouth so close to mine it’s
distracting. “Not really painful, but scars tend to be a lot more sensitive than