Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

“Think you can balance yourself on the chair?” I ask. My voice is so
husky, so fucking needy, that it’s almost unrecognizable. She shifts, resting
her elbows behind her and sliding her ass onto the armrest, leaning back to
give me a better view. “Spread your legs, little one. I want to see just how
fucking angry you are.”
Silently, she obeys, tilting her hips up as her knees fall open. My breath
hitches, the scent of her arousal drilling itself into my brain, something I
never want to forget as long as I live. I lean in, scaling my nose up the inside
of her thigh, inhaling as I try to imprint the entire scene into my memory.
“Do you think anyone can see?” she asks softly, and I glance up as my
tongue finds her scar—my scar—and flicks out over the mangled skin.
Scoring my teeth over her flesh, I revel in the way she convulses, wishing
I could bottle her mannerisms and noises and drink them down. Make them a
part of me.
“Do you want them to see?” I ask, my breath coasting across her pussy,
my mouth mere millimeters away.
She stares down her body at me, twisting and untwisting her lips, before
giving the slightest nod. Goose bumps flourish on her skin like tiny blossoms,
a spring bloom just for me, sending all my blood south.
“Of course, you do.” I inch closer, flicking the tip of my tongue against
her silken flesh, savoring the taste. “My wife wants to show everyone what a
little cock whore she is, doesn’t she?”
“I want her to know,” she says in a low voice, tangling her fingers in my
hair. “I want her to know it’s nothing like what you had with her. That she
can’t make you come like I do.”
“Fuck,” I moan, her jealousy a live wire to my cock, making my vision
blur. Bringing my thumbs up to spread her, I lick up and down the length of
her, sucking and nibbling, avoiding her favorite spot until the very last
second. “Horny little bitch. You want to make Mommy jealous?”
“Please,” she whimpers, bucking her hips, asking for more.
Sliding my arms beneath her thighs, I lift her slightly, digging my fingers
into the meat of her ass before diving in for my feast.
Her head falls back immediately, fingers scraping across my scalp as they
twist and pull, trying to edge me even closer. My tongue alternates between
light circles and sharp figure eights, flicking and licking and massaging until
her thighs are shaking.
They clench, covering my ears so all I can hear is my own blood rushing