Page 79 of There's Pumpkin About You
I take a deep breath and jump into the deep end, pushing past the waistband to grasp him. His inhale is sharp, and for a second I think maybe I’ve grasped him too hard, but when I look in his eyes, the glint in the darkness is enough to tell me that it feels good.
I give him an experimental stroke, and another, and then another, and his groans of pleasure spur me on, make me bolder in my attempts.
He grasps my hair, pulling tight on my curls until I’m arching up into him. I stroke his cock with a vigor that is new to me, enjoying the feel of him in my hand. I become more confident with each movement, enjoying the tightening of his grip, the biting of his bottom lip with his teeth.
“I need to feel you,” I breathe.
“Someone’s feeling impatient,” Gus chuckles.
“Now,” I plead, writhing beneath him in an attempt to scratch an itch only made worse by his mouth on my wet pussy.
Not needing to be asked twice, he lowers his pants all the way and positions himself at my entrance.
The one thing that I find truly admirable is the way he keeps checking on me. He doesn’t need to ask when his patience says it all.
I close my hand over his and together we guide him in. The feeling of him filling me up is a stretching sensation I won’t soon forget. We groan in unison and Gus buries his face into the crook of my neck.
He starts pumping in and out slowly, each thrust measured, calculated. The pressure inside of me builds, like a song reaching its crescendo before drifting into a satisfied silence. My legs are wrapped around Gus’s waist, clinging onto him tightly so that even when he pulls out, he’s never too far away.
He moves faster, harder. The more I beg, the more he moves until he’s pounding into me in a way that has my back rubbing against the table. My climax finds its way closer and closer to the edge, waiting for Gus to push me off that cliff into paradise.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel incredible,” he murmurs into my neck. “I knew you would.”
I let my fingers run through his mahogany waves, each strand even softer than I remember.
“Come with me, sweetheart. Clench my cock.”
And just like that, I fall. I fall far. I fall for the song as it finally reaches its most pivotal moment, and I fall for the man who made it so. He falls over the edge with me, filling me up in a whole new way.
Neither one of us moves, stuck in place by the overwhelming feeling of satisfaction, lust and something more that we can’t yet voice.
I inhale the scent of him hidden beneath the smell of sweat and sex—something sweeter and woodsy. It’s calms me down as I take deeper breaths each time just to smell it.
Light, sweet kisses are peppered up and down my body as Gus slowly pulls out. He moves over to the cupboard under the sink to find a cloth, giving me time to admire the other side of him—the firmness of his ass, the muscular tone to his back.
He smirks when he turns around again to see me watching him, and I’m feeling confident enough to not bother pretending I didn’t. I refuse to take my eyes off of him as he stalks back over to me and takes the time to gently clean me up.
I’m pretty much purring at the way his hand kneads the inside of my thighs, the strain of keeping them wide open for so long finally dissipating with each stroke of his fingers.
I’m lifted up, again with only one hand. I gasp at the sudden movement, and the shock at the way he lifts me so easily.
With a dark chuckle, he kisses me once and says, “Something wrong?”
“No,” I remark with a smile. “Just wondering where it is that you’re taking me now.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I really hope you didn’t think I was done with you.”
“You’re not?”
“Fuck, no.” He begins carrying me to his bedroom. “I’m a growing boy, Wren. When it comes to you nothing more than three meals minimum will fill me up.”
ChapterThirty-Six
GUS
The sun shines, turning the backs of my eyelids red.
Something in my arms nestles closer into me, a low hum vibrating against my chest.
