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The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine

Book by Kate Angell · 4 quotes · Jennifer Dawson, Hot Sex, Hot Romance

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The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine Quotes

“He leaned down and kissed her stomach, her hip bones, while his big hands held her in place. Then his mouth was on her, covering her, licking over her clit. She arched up, crying out as his tongue slid over her folds, making her mindless and crazy. She clutched the pillow, burying her head into the softness as he sucked and licked, nipping over her skin. She clamped her thighs around his head. Whimpered. He was going to drive her right over the edge. His tongue lapped over her clit. "Jack, stop," she said, her voice harsh and panting. "I'm going to... God... No... I want..." He didn't stop. Didn't ease up. He just pushed her harder. His tongue. It was magic. The condom packet slid off her stomach as she planted her feet and rocked into him. Giving up, surrendering to his will and determination. Everything that made Jack, Jack. She coiled tight and then she exploded. She bit her lip, stifling her moans as she rode out wave after wave of delicious sensation. She couldn't think, couldn't put together a sentence, but then he was on her, over her. His palm on her neck, his fingers on her jaw, twisting her face to meet his. His mouth covered hers. He tasted like sex. And lust. His grasp was tight on her jaw, and the way he kissed her, devoured her, sucked her right back under. It was a raw, dirty kiss that consumed her. Her fingers came up to where he held her, and she dug her nails into his wrists. He growled against her lips, biting her, sucking. And the kiss went on and on and on. He finally pulled away, grabbed the condom, and tore open the package. He tossed it onto her body again, ridding himself of his sweats, and then he was naked. And she could only gape at him. Her gaze wide. He had the best cock she'd ever seen in her life. Long and thick. A work of goddamn art. She reached for him, but he grabbed her wrist, shaking his head. "I can't wait, Chlo." He picked up the condom, threw the packet on the floor somewhere and rolled the condom down his hard shaft. She breathed out his name. "Jack." He leaned down, kissing her again, soft and sweet. His erection nudged between her legs. "Just let me inside.”

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Book:The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine
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“They faced each other naked. Anticipation played between them, a sexual tease. "Sit or stand?" he asked. "I'll straddle you." He positioned the chair, and sat. She slipped onto his lap, as if she was meant to sit there. Breast to chest. Thigh to thigh. Sex to sex. Every part of their bodies sought its counterpart. Arousal brought his mouth down on hers, and he kissed her with a thoroughness and intensity that stole all breath and thought. His tongue thrust between her lips, tasted and seduced. She kissed him back, giving, taking, craving him. He touched her, all over. Her shoulders and breasts. He circled her nipple, then her navel with his forefinger. Sensations overtook her. She squirmed, dug her nails into his shoulder. Her breath bathed his neck, his chest. More kissing. More touching. More moans. He embraced her and drank in her soft sighs. She fanned out her fingers, ran them up and down his back, feeling the flex and flow of his muscles. The man was built. Her legs tightened around him. He felt good wedged between her thighs. Primal intimacy. Hot, heavy, their breathing came together. As did their bodies. He cupped her bottom, angled her to accept him. She was wet, slick, when he entered her. They caught their reflection in the mirror. His penetration, the role of his hips, the rocking of their bodies, their building climax. Their raw need. Triple sexual. Time went away and she began to unravel. Her orgasm stretched to the breaking point. She moaned. Stiffened. Shattered. He came a second after her. His release of breath was rough, rushed. His expression going from pain to pleasure.”

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“He clasped her hips. Dug his fingers into her soft flesh. Christ. She clutched his shoulders, her mouth growing more insistent. He wanted to consume her. He slanted his head, increasing their connection. Deepening the angle. Getting lost in her. Chloe. Fuck. He was kissing Chloe. His Chloe. His best friend. And it was incredible. He couldn't get enough. He swept his palms up her body, barely clothed in her tiny costume. He tangled his fingers in her hair, fisting the length to drag her closer. So much closer. She gasped and moaned, sliding her hips forward. When his cock slid between her thighs, he about lost his gad-damn mind. She rocked. He surged. The heat, the slide, the friction.”

Hot SexHot RomanceJennifer Dawson
Book:The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine
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“Nothing on this earth had ever felt as good as being inside Chloe. He gritted his teeth, hanging on to the last remnants of sanity he possessed, as he tried to calm enough not to take her like some primal beast. The grip of her. The silky heat. He braced his elbow next to her head and their eyes locked. He was fucking Chloe. This was going to change them forever. He experienced a rush of panic that quickly dimmed as her thighs clasped his hips and she arched to meet him, gasping. Her hands fell to his waist, nails digging into his skin. He moved, gripped her wrists, and brought them up over her head. They were touching everywhere, the length of him sliding into her. Her breasts against his chest. Her inner muscles clamped around him and he cursed, thrusting inside her. He'd think later. Much, much later. He covered her mouth with his, his tongue sliding against hers. The air grew thick and humid. Tinged with a desperate, urgent lust. He ripped away and groaned. Pumped harder inside her. Her head pressed into the pillow and her neck arched. He held her wrists tighter, he bit her exposed throat, before soothing the skin with his tongue. She cried out. Her nails dug harder. Her thighs clenched. Their movements deepened. Quickened. He let her go, levered up, and rammed hard inside her, circling his hips. Grinding against her. Thrusting harder. Faster. Deeper. The bed frame banged its frantic beat against the wall. Over and over and over again. Her body rippled down the length of his cock. He jerked, losing what little control he had as he came in a loud shout, just as her orgasm rushed through her, milking him for everything he was worth, his vision dimming as intense pleasure tore through him in endless waves. He had no idea how long they went on like that. Pushing and pulsing together mindlessly, lost in the aftershocks of bone-deep satisfaction. He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling that special scent, unique to Chloe. He licked her skin. Tasting salt and sex.”

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Book:The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine
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