Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

CHAPTER 12
THE LONGER I lie naked in Kal’s bed, staring up at the ceiling with my arms
crossed over my chest, the more embarrassed I feel about mauling him
downstairs.
Not long ago I watched him murder my fiancé and then force me into
marrying him. Apparently, after the initial shock and anger wears off during
times of stress, my brain takes a back seat and lets my vagina do the driving.
Or maybe it’s just the effect Kal has on me. Maybe an entire lifetime of
obsessing over him has brought me to this point, and now I’m free to explore
it, regardless of how fucked up the situation is.
I exhale slowly, plucking gently at my nipples, trying to recreate the
feeling of Kal doing the same. Goose bumps spread like a rash over my
forearms, heat creeping over my chest as his words from before echo in my
mind.
‘Has my slutty little wife been walking around every day, hoping to get