Page 48 of Pumpkin
“Oh, fuck!” Dosia exclaimed when two fingers thrust inside her wet entrance. There was no gradual entry, no easing inside. He plunged them in to his last knuckle. It wasn’t painful, though. Surprising, yes, but not painful.
“Say it,” he growled.
His fingers curled, searching. It only took him a second before he touched that spot inside her that even she sometimes doubted existed. Liquid fire replaced the blood in her veins. “Great Goddess,” Dosia gasped out.
“Uh-uh,” Pumpkin scolded, not relenting as his fingers stroked her G-spot again and again. “Tell me what I want to hear, Dosia.”
She could barely breathe, barely think. How the fuck was she supposed to remember something he wanted to hear when he was touching her so? An orgasm built low in her belly. Her eardrums felt like they were about to pop. Her gasps became near whines. She was so fucking close. She needed… She wanted…
His hand reached up, pinching her nipple none too gently.
“Seth!” Dosia cried out as her inner walls clamped down on his fingers and the world spun into a vortex of euphoria.
Pumpkin chuckled low. “Good girl,” he said before latching onto her clit with his mouth.
He brought her right back to the edge, or maybe her first orgasm never officially ended. Either way, Dosia never wanted him to stop.
Pumpkin carefully loweredDosia onto his chest. A sheen of sweat coated them both, but the fire burning inside him kept him toasty warm. He worked his hand into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. After two orgasms, Dosia was boneless and didn’t seem to be registering his movements. Pumpkin, though, was far from done with her.
This intoxicating, wondrous woman was going to be the death of him. His nose, beard, lips, and neck were saturated with her juices. He fucking loved it. A little too much, to be honest. Towards the end there, he had to think about some pretty nasty things to keep from blowing in his pants. Dosia had no idea just how fucking gorgeous she was. Stretch marks? Baby weight? Fucking hell, she had awoman’sbody. A mother’s body. What fucked-up, motherfucking asshole put it in her head that her body was anythinglessthan exceptional?
Whoever it was, Pumpkin wanted names. He and Scar would go hunting.
Pumpkin placed the corner of the condom’s foil packet between his teeth as he tossed his wallet onto the floor. Working his belt and pants open, he let out a slight hiss as the cool air from the room hit his cock. He tore the packet up, needing to feel the hot vice of Dosia’s pussy around his dick.
Pumpkin was a big guy. At six-two and packed with muscle, he was aware that he could be an intimidating presence. Hell, even after losing muscle mass, his biceps were still thicker than her thighs. After feeling how tight her pussy was, even after two orgasms, Pumpkin knew it was still going to be a squeeze.
Dosia sat up on his chest, seeming to be coming back to herself as Pumpkin was rolling the condom down his cock. Her eyes widened when she saw his size, and damn him, he couldn’t stop the surge of pride at her reaction.
“Sit up a little more,” he coaxed gently.
When she did, Pumpkin moved himself further up the couch between her legs. He carefully adjusted her hips over his, but didn’t immediately push inside her as his cock so desperately wanted him to do. Instead, he brought her head down to his and kissed her, long and languid.
Dosia didn’t seem to mind or notice her own essence coating his mouth as she melted into his arms, molding her body to his. He wrapped an arm around the small of her back as the other folded into her hair.
“Fuck, Dosia, baby,” he groaned against her mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.”
Despite the condom he’d already put on, he truly had the intention of verifying with her that she was comfortable continuing. He didn’t want to pressure her, regardless of what he wanted, and had only meant to be prepared. So when Dosia worked her way onto his cock, fitting him to her entrance and slowly sliding down his length, Pumpkin about lost his ever-loving mind.
Their kiss became gasping and fevered as she moved her hips. With their height differences, Pumpkin arched his back and bent his knees, bringing his cock up towards her as she pushed down. She felt incredible, better than he ever could have imagined or remembered through a drunken haze.
As their tongues battled for dominance and Pumpkin’s grip on her hair tightened, he knew two very important facts. First, Dosia washis. She was made for him: mind, body, and soul. There would never be another equal to her in this world. And second, he was utterly and completely gone for her. It wasn’t love, not yet anyway, and it didn’t have to be. It was devotion, a melding of souls that would one day lead to love. The kind that poems and epic tales were told of.
Sparks flew and ecstasy reigned as they succumbed to the intoxicating feel of the other.
Dosia was lyingover Pumpkin’s chest. He was lazily rubbing her back up and down with one hand while playing with the fingers of her left hand with the other.
“You know, I don’t even know your full name.”
Dosia’s lips twitched against his chest. “Theodosia Licorice Woods.”
She felt Pumpkin’s chin dip, but she refused to look up at him because she could only imagine the expression on his face. “Licorice?”
She shrugged. “My family are Pagans. All of our names have some meaning that connects us to nature.” Before he could inquire aboutthatpart of her history, she asked, “What about your name?”
“Seth Ivan Andrich.”
Dosia’s head perked up atthat. “Andrich? As in…the bridge?”
