Page 20 of Pumpkin
Epilogue
Petra
Thanksgiving. Eight years later.
“Stop.” I giggle as Fin catches me about the waist and pushes me against the wall of our bedroom. “I have to put the pies in the oven or they won’t be ready on time.”
Dropping to his knees, he hooks one of my thighs over his shoulder and lifts me just high enough so that my pussy is aligned with his face. “Good. The kids are playing with their cousins under the supervision of their aunty and uncle. I want my wife’s pie before we worry about anyone else getting theirs.” My giggles turn to moans when his tongue sweeps between my folds.God, he does amazing things to me.Eight years together—seven of them married—and he still turns me on like we just met. I can never get enough of him.
Unable to keep both feet on the ground, I lift my other leg and Fin pushes it onto his other shoulder, rising up on his knees. My back slides up against the wall as I hold onto his hair for balance, my dress practically covering his head.
“My god,” I gasp as he sucks back harder, his tongue moving inside me then back to suck against my clit. The rhythm and pressure causes my insides to tighten and swell.
“Not yet, sugar. You taste too good.” Eight years and four children later and he still says those things to me. If someone had told me the day before Thanksgiving all those years ago that I’d be in this position, I’d have called them crazy. But Fin made my dreams come true that year, and I’ve been thankful ever since. He’s given me love, children and a beautiful home with a bungalow out the back for when my parents come to visit from Florida. They always complain that Boston is too cold, but I love it. Whenever it snows, I’m reminded of that first magical kiss that led to that first magical night, and I know I could never leave this place.
“Fin, please. I’m desperate,” I beg, my orgasm only moments away. “I’m right there.”
He flicks his tongue at rapid speed over my clit, and I struggle to maintain control, but then he says those magic words, “Come for me, sugar.” And I explode.
“Holy fuuuuucccckkkk.” My hips buck against his mouth as his tongue sucks and swirls, keeping the sweet torture going.
“Oh, sugar. This cunt of yours is as perfect as the day we started.” He lowers me to the ground then kisses passionately, pinning me against the wall with his body as he grinds his magnificent cock into my belly.
“Fuck me, Fin. Bend me over and bang me until I can barely stand.”
He chuckles before he releases me. “It’s time to make the pies,” he whispers, pulling back and leaving me wanting more. Always wanting more.
“No fair.” I pout as I lean against the wall, already excited for the next moment when he gets me alone. Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday before Fin claimed me, but it’s become even more important because it’s also the day he married me. Every year, we sit around the table with our ever increasing family, and I’m the most thankful woman in the world.
“Happy Thanksgiving, sugar,” he says with a wink as he slips out of the room. I smile to myself. I love him so much.
