The Sharpest Lives Ch. 10

A/N: Hey. Hey. HEY!
This is from Liam's point of view.
Don't say I haven't warned you.

Say It

"What, this isn't real enough for you?" I groaned, as I put down yet another jar in the honey store.

A honey store. Ahoney store.

Fuck, I didn't even know these things existed!

Kim uncovered another jar, daintily teetering over the vat, as though she just realized her baby bump got in the way of stooping down. She dipped the wooden ladle into the pot and watched as the dark amber strands melt back into the liquid. The shopkeeper watched her anxiously, and I didn't blame him. She had already tried twelve- tasting, smelling, looking for I don't know what - and yet she didn't seem satisfied. Sheer unhappiness was etched on her face.

She had gotten even weirder after becoming pregnant, I realized. Always lost in her thoughts, trying to explain things that she herself didn't seem to comprehend. I gave up asking her what was wrong after a week.

"Oh... I'm sorry, this just isn't really- I can't really explain myself -"

Poor thing looked on the verge of tears again. I smiled back at her, but she totally misunderstood it, because she immediately scrunched up her face and looked down. Stupid girl.

"Oh no, madam has impeccable taste! Most don't appreciate the fine nuances between forest and farm honey, much less the flower they're from!" said the shopkeeper, clearly trying to save a sale before it came to nothing.

There's only so much I can take of this. I cleared my throat, eyeing the shopkeeper.

"I think you better start covering the labels before Madam Hipster here starts asking for weirder flavors."

"You think I'm lying?" she suddenly snapped. Oh boy. I turned to face her again. Yes, she was now angry again...

"Oh God!" she cried. "I just want what's best for the baby and my mind- my gut tells me this is not it. It's too woody, too dusky." Her hands danced, as though trying to mime what she meant.

I wish I could say I didn't understand her, but I actually did. My little rabbit ran her whole life on her instincts and impulses, and those always seem to serve her well. It led her to me, after all. But we're not animals, and I needed to know what she specifically wanted.

"From the fear of sounding too...simple, pray tell us WHAT do you want your honey to taste like?"

I watched as she literally lightened in front of me. Yep, ask the right question and you'll find the right solution...

"It should feel like molten gold and taste like sunshine...just light, and honey," she twittered.

Fuck this shit.

"Feel like molten gold?" repeated the shopkeeper, probably as flabbergasted as I was.

"Would you like me to dip his hand in molten gold so he can approximate your guess?" I asked, unable to keep the snark down.

The shopkeeper laughed nervously as he ran back into the back of the shop. She narrowed her eyes, setting the cover over another jar. I shrugged.

"Really? You had to say that?" she asked coldly.

"I'm sorry babydoll, I really want you to get what you want," I explained. And I want to get out of here. And the shopkeeper was an idiot. He was looking at her funny. "But it looks like you're asking for something-" I waved my hands the same way she did before.

"But I want it," she pouted, resting a hand over her belly, her almond eyes opening wide.

Now and then she did something so fantastic, that I'd have to step back, just so I didn't launch myself at her and take her right there. Fuck, Lord knows how many times I've almost done it.

She was wearing a long sleeved, tight little black dress. It showed off her sweet creamy shoulders and her knees and legs. The material accentuated her pretty little butt and best of all, her pushed-out baby bump. The bump I made. She was carrying my seed, showing it proudly to the world, and she looked fucking gorgeous doing it.

"Little rabbit," I half-pleaded, "You don't even know what 'it' is!"

"Maybe this is it" said the shop keeper, setting a small glass jar onto the counter and uncovering it. It was hardly bigger than a regular glass. "This honey is from the hilly rainforests of Indonesia..." he dawdled on, while I watched her curiously dip the ladle, and let a thick glob fall onto her wrist. She licked it, her tongue first flicking, then lapping it up, like...

I stiffened as I remembered her tongue lapping similarly over my engorged member. Her hair fell across her shoulder like it did now, her lids lowered as if in some sort of holy concentration, my cum dripping from the corner of her apple lips because my little baby's mouth was too small...

She let another drop fall onto her wrist again, I watched her rub it into her skin, and I imagined her rubbing my cum into the slopes of her breasts, delighted, fascinated, mesmerized and now, I had to stop her.

"Babydoll, what are you doing?" I asked, slightly breathless.

"Oh no, actually, that's an excellent way to judge the purity of the honey!" said the shopkeeper excitedly. "Pure honey melts into the skin- well, here's another way-" and he suddenly grabbed my arm, and ran a streak of what looked like chalk on it. I looked at him angrily but then he had looked away to grab a wooden stick.

I looked back at Kim, who was looking expectantly at me, and then back at the shopkeeper.

"Now, if we rub this slaked lime with pure honey, it should burn," he said, with a slightly wicked smile. He proceeded to rub the honey into my skin with the stick. First I felt nothing. Then I felt something- maybe it was the friction of the wood against my skin, and the warmth gradually increased until suddenly, I felt as though my skin was set on fire.

I pulled back my arm, despite myself. The shopkeeper dutifully handed me a wet towel, and as I rubbed it off, I noticed that my skin was visibly angered to a bloody red.

"Your wife has impeccable taste," he complimented again. "This honey is one in a million."

"Fantastic, she's a bear. I'll take one gallon of this, then."

"Oh no sir, this is all we have," he said, pointing to the jar.

I looked at it, then looked at her, still licking the honey off her wrist and mewling like a kitten. Something inside of me stirred. Well, more like whirl pooled. I wanted to see her in that state, every day.

"Okay, give that then, for now, and place an order for a gallon." I ordered.

"Yes sir," he said, as he placed the little jewel cut jar into a soft, dark drawstring purse, and presented it to her.

"I'm glad you finally found what you wanted, miss," he said kindly.

"Oh no, thank you for putting up with us," said Kim, smiling sweetly. Okay that's enough, I thought, pulling her hand gently.

As we got into the car, I gently coaxed the bag off her writs.

"Hey," she said, annoyed. "That's mine!"

"You'll get fat." I admonished playfully, setting it away from her reach. She huffed angrily, shuffling to the other side of the car, as I lighted up my cigarette.

I had some other plans for it...

And she fell for the trap, right when I wanted.

It was nearing midnight. She was sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed, fiddling on her phone. I was pretending to do something on my laptop. She suddenly threw her arms up into the air, and fell back onto the bed. I smiled internally.

"I want my honey now," she cried unhappily, as she rubbed her belly. I turned around to look at her.

At 4 months, she already looked lusciously full. Her bump (which sent a wave of pleasure through me, every time I saw it- I made that, remember) prominent already on her small frame. Her face and limbs and breasts were definitely fuller and fatter - probably thanks to all the berries and grapes and mangoes and the gallons of milk she drank. She had the oddest cravings. Oranges used to be her favorite fruit, along with peaches and plums, but now she turned her nose at them. But what worried me the most was that she stopped eating all other kinds of food- she complained that it was too strong, too mixed, too oily, and even when I tried to force feed her, she would throw up. That's why I had to find what she was looking for. Hence the honey store.

She mmmed and ahhed and I couldn't take it anymore. "Little rabbit, come here," I called, and watched as she pattered off the bed, her pink negligee swimming and flowing around her.

I had hidden it in my drawer, and she frowned when she saw me reveal its hiding place.

"That is not fair," she muttered, crossing her arms under her breasts.

I unscrewed the jar, and dipped the wooden spoon into it. "Now, babydoll, we're going to have to make this last until their shipment arrives. So, I'm going to ration it out for you."

"Again, not fair," she pouted. She probably had no idea of the expressions she was making. Pregnancy just accentuated her natural childishness. She moved to turn away, and her dark wavy hair swung behind her like a restless ocean at midnight...

I grabbed her hand before she could go, and pulled her close. "Nor is me not getting to pound your sweet little pussy," I breathed, as I pulled her face down to steal a little kiss from that pout.

She moved away slowly, blushing pink. "But - but..." She pushed a stand of her hair behind her ear.

There were a thousand little things she did that gave her away. She probably didn't even realize she did them. Whenever she pushed her hair back, I learnt, meant that she didn't really agree with what she said. I felt her fingers grow cold in my hands, and rubbed them into my palm, trying to make them warm. Her hair, now almost waist length, fell in dark swirls over her neck and dress. A little slit of golden skin peeked through the front of her dress, running between the lush curves of her breasts to her navel, endearingly calling out to my brain...

Did anyone ever look at you, the way I do? I thought.

"You know as well as I do that it doesn't harm the baby," I started.

"No..."

"I need you." She looked away as I said this, and sighed.

"I haven't been feeling very-I don't know, I just can't. I'm sorry,' she said timidly.

Ever since that night with the video, she had changed. She said that she bled, and even though the doctor confirmed everything was alright, she still resisted me. Later, I coaxed it out of her- she was afraid for the baby, and she got nightmares about a deformed baby whenever we had sex. She had woken up screaming and crying from sleep more than once after that incident.

She couldn't have faked that. She had looked so terrified and hurt admitting it, I felt guilty. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this...

"Hmm." I let go of her.

"Please...?" she asked.

"Please?" I repeated, feigning surprise. "Oh, this?" I pointed at the jar.

"Can I have some?" she asked, looking at the jar. She licked her lips, and the movements of her lips, the look in her eyes, it was too much. I felt uncomfortable, too tight, my head felt light...

My eyes trailed up her hands, that were defensively placed over her pussy, up her belly and over her almost round, almost visible breasts, and stopped at her lips.

Well, that will have to do.

"For a price," I grinned. She looked away, wretchedly. I held fast to her hand, and she turned back.

"I want to do bad, bad things to those lips of yours," I said, my voice getting husky. "If you let me..."

She returned my gaze, shyly at first, then averted them, as though she knew fully well what all I wanted to do with her pretty plump lips. Then she suddenly locked her gaze onto me, as if daring to do what I so desired, egging me on almost, and that just pushed me to the edge. Then, just as fast, she looked away, and all I could do was run behind her. Stupid little rabbit.

"I'll give you this though," I said, pulling myself out of my reverie and ladling out a spoonful. Her attention snapped back to the spoon, her eyes bright and shining, like a hungry animal.

I popped the spoon into her mouth, and she moaned in delight as she sucked on the wooden spoon. My head felt dizzy, and I felt myself harden even worse as a stray drop of honey fell off her chin, and onto her breasts.

God, is she playing with me? I thought madly. I grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to me, and pushed her down to her knees to lick the runway trail of honey off her chest.

It was just as she said. It tasted like sunshine. But I bet it tasted a thousand times better off her skin.

She was still preoccupied with the spoon, pulling it in and out, as if trying to extract every molecule if possible. I took the ladle from her hands, and scooped a fingerful of honey, holding it in front of her. Without hesitation, she popped it into her mouth.

Fuck that felt like heaven. Her tongue snaked expertly around my finger. I don't know whether to congratulate myself for making her like this, or her for being so fucking good. I watched in amazement as she started bobbing up and down my finger, as if it was the real thing. I pushed her head down into my crotch, feeling the friction of her lips and the fabric over my already hard member.

"Are you cumming for me little rabbit?" I asked. I moved my finger away, rubbing the saliva into the corner of her mouth. She looked up, shyly, and got up, to raise the hem of her gown.

I could feel the heat radiating from her, and I reached for it. I suppressed a moan as my fingers felt the wetness between her legs.

"You poor thing," I said, unzipping myself. "I put you through so much pain, don't I?" I let out a groan as my erection sprang free. "Come, let me fix it..." I ran a hand up and down my member.

"Please Liam... It hurts, really... This time I'm really afraid..." she mumbled.

My insides were boiling. I didn't really care. I wanted her. But I didn't want to turn this into something bad either.

"Alright then babydoll, why don't you come and blow me a little kiss down here?" I tried, controlling myself.

She still didn't look convinced. "The taste... It makes me gag now..."

I scooped up a spoonful of honey and smeared it on my cock. "Better now?"

Her mouth formed at little 'o' in surprise, and like the hedonist I knew she actually was, she promptly sat on her knees, and glomped on my member.

"You little glutton," I said, laughing. I threw my head back, and watched her, her eyes wide, submissive, eager to please. Just as she was made to be...

She started slowly, lightly brushing her plump lower lip around my head. I felt the little breaths she took, and the warm and cold sent little shivers through my core. She bought a hand to lightly pull on my balls, and I smiled a little, as she experimented, running her fingers first down underneath, around, then crooking her neck down to lick over the skin. Her eyes opened and closed sensuously, and my precum oozed, dropping onto her cheek. I rubbed it into her skin with a finger, while she licked and kissed my balls.

She ran her little fingers over the length of my member, as if wondering what to do again. She looked up at me, then ran a tongue, making a little streak from the base up to the tip. And then again, and again, and again. I felt like I was going to blow now, but held on, as she pushed the tip of her tongue tightly against the hole of my penis. I moaned, deciding not to take this torture any more. She opened her mouth, and gently, carefully guided herself halfway on to my dick. She stopped, and looked up, as though meaning she could do no more. Poor thing.

"Such a good little fucktoy,' I whispered, running a hand through her hair lightly. She tensed as I did that. I don't blame her. She knew what I wanted.

I grabbed her hair by the roots, and pulled, earning a little shriek from her. Music.

I pushed her onto my dick, and I felt her trying to overcome her gagging to accommodate me. She started pulling out languidly, and I was on the edge by now. Before she should completely move out, I pushed her in again.

"Faster," I growled. She tried to pick up the speed, but it seemed she had fallen out of practice. I guided her head, clasping her jaw with one hand and the back of her head with another, until I found the angle just right... I could feel the tip of my penis touch the back of her throat, and it sent shivers up to my already frizzling brain.

She moaned, and I let her loose a little, because I could feel myself actually getting larger. Her hands scratched helplessly over the fabric of my trousers.

"Just a little,' I whispered, and pushed her in and out some more. Just...some more.

I held her in, as I came into her mouth. I heard her take in a breath just before, and she ended up swallowing the crux of the load in nice, loud audible gulps. I let her free, as she fell back on her ass, her mouth still full of cum, dripping down her lips and neck and onto her breasts. Her hair was plastered over her neck and shoulders, and her breasts heaved from the shock. Her little pants and moans did nothing to calm me down.

"You're a dirty little beast," I whispered. "Look what you did to the dress... Remove it."

With shaking arms, she pulled the stings open and shrugged her shoulders out. I still had some left, so I stroked, shooting threads of cum into her face and body. She touched the cum over her breasts, her fingers slowly rubbing it into her skin. Just as I liked it. She looked up, as if to see if I was watching, and quickly looked down again, shivering.

This is how I loved seeing her- lying naked, her dress pooled around her, waiting for me, shaking like a vulnerable animal. I stood up, casting a shadow over her figure.

"And you said you weren't feeling like it," I reminded her. With one foot, I pushed her leg apart.

Today, I'm going to have you, I decided.

I wanted to fuck her until she cried and screamed to stop. Then I would turn her over, and rape her tight little ass. Then I'd stick two vibrators up her holes and watch while she cummed helplessly beyond her control- and then she could milk my cock again like the slut I trained her to be. She'll never get out of this room. Her existence will only boil down to one thing, pleasuring me, and I will do whatever I want with her, fuck what the world thinks. Slap her, whip her, beat her. Tie her up to the bed and fuck her senseless, then fuck her again until the pain woke her up. Maybe I'll cut her- fuck, I always wanted to do that, and she'd scream and cry and those lips and eyes will be swollen, and her blood - I wanted to drink - I wanted to feel her insides like no one had before, and I wanted to mark them as mine. I wanted her tears, her cries and her pain. All she should think and know should be me. Every piece of her was mine, and I would beat that lesson into her till she knew.

It was fun that she tried to fight back, because it evoked some feeling I kept aside, since nothing could probably last that long... but maybe she will. Maybe. I'll take that chance. She made me want to do terrible things to her, and I felt my heart was going to burst...

She looked up, her eyes wide and shining. "Please don't," she whispered, as she moved backwards carefully. I heard the little jingle of her anklet, as she moved her legs across the carpet. Now that her feet were swollen, it was almost cutting into her skin. Yet she hadn't removed it.

What was it about her that made me want to do these things with her? Some things just work with some people. It's so...stupid. I felt so helpless.

I slipped in my dick, zipping up my trousers, and then I crouched down. She trembled, but seemed to relax as my hand went no further up than her ankle.

"Doesn't this hurt?" I asked, as I unclasped the anklet. She let out a little moan as the tension released, and I looked at the red little marks on her skin.

You love her, said my brain.

Maybe.

She loves you for sure, I thought again.

Unfortunately, I agreed.

I rubbed the indurations on her skin. Poor thing. Why didn't she tell me...