“I’m not gonna last. Come with me, Bloom.”
Once her strength begins to wane, I take over. I roll her face down onto the bed. Her feet fall off the side as I lower myself to enter her from behind.
“Look at how desperate you are for my cook—my come. You’ll be getting your pretty pussy pounded every day.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Everyone in Dew Hollow will know you are mine. The only way I can let you out of my sight is with my seed running down your thighs.”
Bloom moans into the mattress. White knuckles grip the sheets as I power into her. Harsh gasps fall from her lips as she peers at me over one shoulder.
“I killed for this pussy. It's mine—you are mine.”
I grip her hips as I rut her like a wild beast.
“Yours. All yours, Rhy. Forever,” she vows.
Bloom’s ass cushions each demanding thrust. The bed creaks with the force of my movements. Her pussy locks tightly around my straining cock. She tightens in time with her increasing moans. I deliver a smarting smack to her ass and watch the color bloom.
A low moan pulls from deep in her throat.
“Rhy—fuck—Rhydian, I—I?—”
“Come, Bloom. Keep those pretty thighs open so I can give you my seed.”
I slam into her again, and she erupts.
Her perfect cunt locks down around my cock. Falling atop her body, I pound into her again before emptying myself into her waiting depths. She takes every spray of my spend. It seeps from between our bodies as she shudders.
Pulling from her, I ease Bloom onto her back and kiss her sweet mouth. She tastes of sweet wine and honey. She tastes like mine.
Limply, her thighs wrap around my hips. Instantly I’m hard again as my cock rubs against our mingling releases.
“You’re gonna have to carry me back to Dew Hollow.”
I chuckle.
“That can be arranged.”
Her thighs squeeze my hips.
“Again.”
I’m the luckiest male in the world.
Rubbing myself through both of our come, I enter her once more. Slower this time. The bed rocks gently as I push all the way inside. Color splashes up Bloom’s chest and throat. Her lavender scent chokes me.
“I love you,” I say in a rush. “So much.”
“I love you, Rhy. Fill me again.”
The bed doesn’t stop creaking until the crickets sing their lullaby.
8
BLOOM
Afiddle plucks up a cheerful tune.
