Page 59 of Graves & Griggs
She pouts. “It sounds childish when you explain it like that.”
“I don’t mean it to. I’m sorry them leaving upsets you, siren. It is for the best, though. The Graves family brings trouble… as you’ve witnessed first-hand. It’s best for all that they go back where they came from.”
Skyla turns her head curiously. “I thought you liked them, or at least Zayden.”
I let out a dry laugh. “I’m not sure even his wife likes him. He’s Zayden Graves. He’s… Zayden.”
She watches me closely, like she’s waiting for me to elaborate, but really, that’s all I have to say on the matter. Shaking my head, Iattempt to pacify her, to ease the sense of loneliness she’s suddenly feeling.
“It’s been… an experience to work beside someone so well known, so formidable.”
Honestly, that was the nicest thing I could have said about him, so I think that’s more than good enough.
Skyla rolls her eyes as if she knows that’s all she’ll get out of me before moving on to a new topic. She reaches over to the floor and grabs a wrapped present I didn’t notice her bring inside. The wrapping paper is a deep crimson with a crisp white bow and a little peppermint name tag dangling off it with my name on it.
“Merry Christmas, Vincent.”
I take the package from her, looking deep into her hypnotic eyes in thanks before tearing open the wrapping. The paper gives way easily, revealing a white clothing box. When I lift the top, I find a black sweater inside. The material is soft like butter as I rub it between my fingers. It’s not my style at all, if you could even say that I have style. I definitely don’t wear collared sweaters, though.
Still, she bought it for me and went through the effort of wrapping it for me, so of course I’m going to appreciate it.
“Thank you, siren. I love it.”
She smirks. “You’re such a liar. I didn’t know what to get you, but I did think you would like the smell.”
My brows furrow as I lift the sweater to my nose and inhale gently. A familiar smell hits my senses. It’s dulled, for sure, having been wrapped up for an unknown amount of time, but the smell is instantly recognizable.
“Siren, why does the sweater smell like your cunt?”
She giggles mischievously, a smile playing at her lips as she wiggles herself in my lap. “Do you like it?”
“You know I love it, but I want to know how your smell got all over this sweater.”
Skyla pushes to stand, then slowly strips off piece after piece of clothing. My eyes waver from her body only for a moment to check that the door is already locked. Perfect.
“Hmmm, you know. I’m trying to remember, but it’s slipping my mind. Maybe if you gave me some incentive, it might jog my memory?”
I lift an unimpressed eyebrow as my gaze eats up her naked flesh. Her body only grows more attractive with each day of pregnancy. I swear to fuck, growing a human has never looked so goddamn delectable.
“Incentive?” I ask, allowing each syllable to roll off my tongue as I stand.
She smiles like she has all the power in this situation, and most days, she does. But in the bedroom, or whatever room we deem appropriate, she will always be my submissive.
Before she can react, I’m bending down, peeling her leggings and panties off before tossing them to the side. She goes to ask what I think I’m doing but doesn’t get the chance to finish her question before I’m lifting her up into the air and pressing her back against the wall. She gasps in surprise as I lift her higher, wrapping her legs around my shoulders so I can bury my face in her cunt.
“Vincent! Shit, put me down! You’re gonna drop me.” She squirms as she holds her belly protectively.
I pull back, looking up at her with her taste practically dripping off my chin as I swear to her, “I would never or could never let you down, in any facet of the word, siren. When you’re in my arms, know that you are the safest you could ever be. You both are.”
She softens at my words before one of her hands comes to the back of my head, fingers wrapping around my hair as she shoves me back between her thighs. I go willingly, my tongue licking through her like I’ve never been gifted such a thing in my life. That’s because with her, every time feels like the first time.I’m not ignorant to my mortality, to how quickly life can be snatched away. After all, I’m usually the one doing the snatching. I will forever treasure every moment I share with my wife and my children. Even if I vow to lay my life down for theirs, nothing is ever guaranteed, and that thought right there is what keeps me up the most at night.
I feel my siren about to fall apart on my tongue, but I deny her, pulling away abruptly and leaving her whimpering in my arms. Her eyes are closed, her mouth is open, and disappointment is spreading across her features.
“Wha… what’s wrong?” she asks.
“Tell me how the smell of you got all over my ‘present’?”
Her playful smile returns, and she shakes her head.
