Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

“I didn’t appreciate you marrying me in the gown you’d intended to be on
Mateo’s bedroom floor tonight.”
I frown. “To be fair, I wasn’t planning on sleeping with Mateo. Ever, if I
could get away with it.”
He takes another step, backing me into the sink. I put one arm behind me
to keep from falling, holding tight to my bedsheet, and he leans in to place his
hand on the counter beside my hip.
“No?” he asks, warm breath ghosting over my face. “So, you didn’t wear
that skimpy lingerie for him? Didn’t shave your sweet little pussy just in case
your new husband wanted a taste?”
Licking my lips as he fists the knot holding my sheet closed, I shake my
head. My breathing scatters as he shifts even closer, so close I’m not even
sure we’re two separate beings any longer.
Chest tight, I glance up at him through hooded lashes, trying to keep my
breathing even, dipping my toe in the pool of attraction trickling between us.
“Maybe I wanted the dress to be on your floor tonight.”
Kal’s irises darken even further, a breath hitching in his throat. “Were
you going to think of me when he fucked you?”
Not waiting for an answer, he tugs at the satin, uncurling my fingers with
his free hand as he takes another bite of the apple. The obscene slurping
sound as he pulls the fruit away sends a violent shiver down my spine, and I
clench my thighs together as moisture pools at the apex, warming me from
the inside.
With one sweep of his hand, the sheet falls away from my body, catching
at my waist where I’m pinned against the sink. Kal lets out a shaky exhale as
he chews, raking his hungry gaze down the length of my body.
“As sinful as I remember,” he mutters, setting the apple on the counter
behind me, then reaching out with sticky fingers to brush the pomegranate
tattoo beneath my breast—the one I got when he started calling me his little
Persephone, as if I might be able to reach him with the symbol.
His touch is icy, devoid of the warmth his eyes hold, and yet it scorches
me anyway.
What is wrong with me?
Just a few hours ago, this man blackmailed me into marrying him.
Threatened the lives of everyone I love, just so I would become a willing
pawn in some weird little game I don’t even understand yet.
I’m not sure I buy his story about being blackmailed himself, either—a