Page 82 of The Cursed Chalice
Soraya moves from piece to piece. Her fingers hover over the cracked oil canvas, in reverence, as though she was handling a relic in a chapel. Her eyes glow with each new painting or artifact that she discovers. She’s happy. I made my wife happy. My wife. I never called a woman that before. I never had the privilege of being someone’s husband. As she talks, I look at this beautiful woman. Her dark cheeks look rosy, her hands are animated as she talks about the history of a spear that I own. I don’t tell her that I was there in the battle that she talks about. I listen, relishing the way she describes the war.
She spins slowly in the room. “You’ve kept them alive. Out of light and dust. You preserved them better than any museum could.”
I smirk, feeling proud that she loves what I did. “I kept them safe. But I didn’t understand why until now.”
“For centuries, they have waited for someone who could see them the way you do.” I walk up to her, stepping into her personal space. “And I feel like. I have waited centuries for someone who could finally see me…us.”
She spins slowly in the room. “You’ve kept them alive. Out of light and dust. You preserved them better than any museum could.”
I smirk, proud that she loves what I did. “I kept them safe. But I didn’t understand why until now.”
“For centuries, they have waited for someone who could see them the way you do.” I step closer, closing the distance between us. “And I feel like. I have waited centuries for someone who could finally see me…us.”
Soraya smiles shyly. “This is beautiful. You did an amazing job.”
“Husband.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Pardon me.”
I take another step; my voice is low. “This is beautiful. You did an amazing job, husband.”
She lays her hand on my chest. “Husband. But you don’t have to pretend for me, Ares. I appreciate everything you've done.”
I press her hand to my chest, holding it there.
“Ask here, Ares.”
My heart rate increases. What if she denies me? “What if I wasn’t pretending, and I wanted this…us to be real?”
Her eyes become glassy as tears gather. “You…you want us to be real? Like a real husband and wife?”
“Yes.” Both Aric and I feel like we’re both teetering on the edge of something vast.
A tear slips down her face. “I would love to be your wife. For real.”
“Then why are you crying?” I brush her tears away.
“Because you want me.” She laughs softly through her tears. “And that makes me happy, husband.”
I bend and whisper over her lips, “I will always want you, wife.”
She lifts on her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine. I grab her hip, pressing her against my erection.
“Ares, we have the reception, but can we?” She was already wrapping her leg around me.
“Fuck yes, we can, wife.” I kneel, throwing her leg over my shoulder.
She pulls the dress up from over my head. “Please, Ares.”
I lick my index finger, drag it down over her lace-covered clit.
“We have to make this quick.”
“Yeah.” Her body trembles as I pull her panties to the side. I don’t give her time to think.
I broadened my tongue, licking up to the clit, holding it between my lips. My two fingers create a quick motion, curling inside of her. One hand holds on to her ass as she wobbles. Her fingers grip my hair painfully. I love it. I feel greedy as I eat her pussy.
“Shit, Ares, please right there. Hmmmmm.”
