Kissing Pumpkin Novels & Stories

"Do you take Asher Williams as your lawfully wedded husband" the priest asked me I bit my lips and look over to my Dad who had an expressionless face , my step mom glared at me I scoff "yes" He turn to the handsome man by my side, I must admit although I don't want to get married , this man is so handsome with beautiful eyes , thin lips, tall, with abs I drool "and do you take Cheryl Kingsley as your lawfully wedded wife?" I snapped from my thoughts and waited for his reply Part of me hope he would say no and stop the wedding and part of me hope he would say yes "Yes" he replied The priest smiled "you may kiss your bride" He turn to look at me and frown " No" I could hear a chuckle from my step mom "Kissing girls is bad" he said I raise a brow what is wrong with him? An elderly woman rush to the alter and whisper something into his ears He stare at me I was becoming impatient , what a disgrace I held him and force my lips on his I felt a force push me from him I fell hitting my ass on the ground, it didn't hurt much because of the thickness of the wedding gown He pushed me! Me! I wanted to stand up and give him a piece of my mind but looking at the congregation, their mocking smile , I couldn't , I felt so embarrassed thank goodness the only people invited were friends and family But still,all those girls that look at me like an untouchable goddess I felt like crying , I bit my lips and remained on the ground pretending I've lost consciousness and hoping the ground would open up and swallow me

“I’ve got you,” His free hand finds my waist again, keeping me anchored. “I won’t let go unless you tell me to.” My breath hitches but I don't move away, still fixing my gaze back at him. Water droplets cling to his eyelashes and his hair is slicked back from his face, his blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. Fuck. He looks so dreamy and beautiful and utterly unguarded with me. I wonder if I look the same to him too. Gently, the water laps at our shoulders, cool against my heated skin that is burning for his touch. Our eyes are still locked on each other, our faces merely inches apart. I want him. I want him so much that I don't want to stop wanting him. This pull between us has tortured me long enough and for so long, I have fought it. Restrained it. But now, I am done fighting it. Without warning, I cup his face and crash my lips to his mouth, shutting my eyes and damning the consequences. He takes in a sharp breath, an adrenaline of desire rushing through me like wildfire at the sound before he pulls me flush against him, his lips kissing me back with a hunger that instantly fuels the fire blazing through my veins. My hands move up and fist into his wet hair, tugging at the strands and drawing out a pleasurable groan from him. He wants me. He craves me just as much as I crave him. And I am glad we're both on the same page of this temptation. ~ They stole my powers, murdered my loved ones, and killed me. But now, I am back for vengeance—and the Lycan Prince is mine!

Just then, he pulled her closer to him and placed his hands softly on her waist. Belle’s heart was racing faster than it had ever done before. She couldn’t believe what was happening. He was taller than her and she loves a man who was taller than her. Ronnie’s brain reeled from sensory overload. Belle’s honeysuckle scent,her red velvet lips, shoved him to the brink. It had been a long time. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman the way he wanted her. He leaned forward, looking into her eyes, he whispered in her ear with a soft voice; “Can i kiss you?” Belle was almost trembling but not because she was afraid. It was because she had waited for this moment and it was finally happening. She stared right back into his eyes and nodded in consent. Ronnie smiled at her softly. She could tell he was pleased by her approval. He pulled her closer again. This time, so his body was brushing against hers. Her boobs were touching his broad and chiseled chest. He could see her black bra through the dress she wore which showed off her cleavage. It drove him wild seeing them. She felt him nudging at her lower thighs. He felt really big she thought. He breathed deeply as he ran his hands through her hair and face. He softly held her chin up closer to his face so his lips could touch her soft moisturized lips and then he kissed her. Her lips felt so soft he couldn’t stop kissing them. She wondered if she had finally found the perfect guy to prove to her friends she’s a real lover girl and not a nonchalant girl who hates or doesn’t really care about love.

“Shush” he cuts her off. “Raise up your skirt right now” “Master…” He cuts in again. “Raise up your skirt right now and don’t make me repeat myself” She took a deep breathe, this is not the first time he has punished her this way, It started a month ago. “Okay master” She raised up her uniform skirt and her white panties came to view, his eyes bulging out. He swallowed. “You’re beautiful, it’s like each time you raise that beautiful skirt of yours up, it’s my first. Come here, I want you to see yourself” he hold her by the hand and takes her to the mirror. “Look at yourself, you’re beautiful. Your legs are slender and you’ve got such a nice crutch” he admires her as she watches herself, her skirt still raised. He bent down and began to kiss her legs, kissing all the way up to her neck. He grabbed her ass from behind trailing kisses om her beck before one of his hand rested oh her boobs and the other went into her panties rubbing her clit and squeezing her full boobs hard. “I heard you’re a virgin too” he moaned as he nibbled her ear continuing his attack on her innocent body. “Are you done master?” She asked ready to run away and go confess her sinful thoughts and to put her body to punishment for wanting more. “Done? Oh honey, I’m just getting started with you” with that he released her boobs from the shackles of a bra and tore her shirt pressing her to the mirror, he breast on it waiting and screaming to be sucked. “What a lewd thought!” She quarrels herself. He dragged her pant up, seperating her pussy lips with it.

It had been five years since I started dating Ross Jenner. His family invited my mother and me to their family home in Fellaton to discuss our wedding plans and to spend Valentine's Day together. It was past 10:00 PM when my mother and I landed, but Ross wasn't there to pick us up because his college junior, Laurel Elledge, had just arrived in Fellaton. He told me to figure out a way to get a cab to the house myself. In a strange place, unfamiliar with the area, it wasn't long before we found ourselves in danger. Just over ten minutes outside the airport, we were robbed. My mother was injured while trying to protect me, and she collapsed, bleeding heavily. Desperate, I held onto her, frantically trying to call Ross. Each call was abruptly cut off, and when I finally reached him, he sounded irritated. "Jennifer, you're an adult, so stop acting like a child. You couldn't even hail a cab on the street? Laurel just got to Fellaton and isn't feeling well. I need to take care of her." Without waiting for a response, he hung up. I tried calling again, only to find that I had been blocked. In the end, my mother's injuries were too severe, and she bled out before the doctors could save her. As I stared at her lifeless body, tears flowed uncontrollably. When I finally checked my phone again, the first thing I saw was a picture Ross had posted on Twitter. In the photo, he was kissing Laurel and holding a bouquet of roses. [Spending Valentine's Day with the one I love most.] I quietly threw the gifts I had brought from home into the trash. Then, I left a comment, which said, [Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.]

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

Russell James called me plain. He said I didn't have what it took to drive a man crazy, then crawled back into bed with the supermodel he'd been hiding from me. I found out the hard way, with my own eyes and what little dignity I had left. By then, he'd already signed his professional football contract, become a rising star, and decided I was no longer in his league. A year later, my life is falling apart. My mother's surgery is unaffordable. My younger brother's hockey dreams are slipping away. My final semester fees are overdue. Then my half-sister offers me a deal. Seduce a powerful fashion executive at an elite Madrid nightclub and help secure her place in Europe's most prestigious fashion show. In return, my family's problems disappear. I say yes. I spend the night with the man she described. By morning, I discover I've slept with the wrong man. "Connor?" he repeats, amused. "My name's Andre." Andre Fernandez. Real Numancia de Madrid's golden boy. Europe's most sought-after footballer. Forty-eight million followers. A €150 million market value. And the biggest rival of the ex-boyfriend who shattered my heart. Before I can process what happened, Andre finds me. He clears my family's debts and makes one impossible demand: "Be my girlfriend." I say no. Andre Fernandez clearly isn't used to hearing that word. When paparazzi catch us kissing at a high-profile party, the internet explodes. To save Andre's reputation, his PR team pushes us into a fake relationship complete with staged appearances, rehearsed interviews, and public displays of affection. None of it is supposed to be real. Except the longer we pretend, the harder it becomes to remember where the performance ends. Russell sees the photographs and is annoyed at his rival's proximity to me.

His fingers slid into my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back and expose my throat to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Mr. Turner,” I breathed, my voice breaking on a gasp as he found a sensitive spot just beneath my ear and sucked lightly. His growl was low and primal, vibrating through my skin as he pressed his body against mine. I felt every hard line of him, his heat bleeding through my clothes. “Why not?” he murmured, his voice rough with restrained need. I swallowed hard. “You’re… you’re my ex-fiancé’s father.” He paused. For a moment, everything stilled… his breath against my throat, the air between us, even the rain outside seemed to hesitate. Then he lifted his head, and our eyes locked. His were a stormy blue, intense and unwavering. “No one has to know, Catherine,” he said quietly, his voice was like a dark promise wrapped in silk. Then he leaned in with his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I can be your dirty secret.” A shiver ripped down my spine. His words settled deep in my gut, awakening something dangerous. I bit my lip. Every cell in my body screamed for me to walk away but I didn’t. Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him hard. Desperately. He rumbled low in his chest, kissing me back with equal hunger, his hands roaming my body like he already knew every curve. When he finally broke the kiss, I was breathless. Then he dropped to his knees between my legs, with his eyes darker now. “I’m going to show you the world,” he said. “If you’d let me.”

Ariana thought her biggest challenge was protecting her heart—until love, lust, and betrayal tore her world apart. First came her mother’s new husband, Mr. Fred—her late father’s best friend and the man Ariana should never have wanted. Then came Robin, his dangerously charming son, who refused to let her go. And in the shadows, Chris, her loyal boyfriend, watched as Ariana slipped further into temptation. When forbidden passion turns into a web of secrets, lies, and deadly revelations, Ariana must choose between desire and survival. But in a family bound by betrayal, every choice comes with a price—and hers may cost her everything. Ariana never asked to be caught between three men—yet passion, lies, and betrayal pull her deeper into a forbidden harem she can’t escape. When her mother dies suddenly and dark family secrets rise to the surface, Ariana learns the shocking truth: the man she desires may also be the one who destroyed her family. DIALOGUE “Robin? What are you doing here?” I shivered, my heart pounding. “How did you get in?” “I saw you with my father.” His voice broke, tears welling in his eyes. “I told you how I felt, and you chose him.” A pang of guilt hit me. I pulled him close, crushing him in a tight embrace before kissing him deeply. I stared up at him, desperate for more. He stripped off his shirt, laid me down on the bed, and covered my body with his mouth. Every kiss, every touch, was more intense than anything I’d experienced with his father. “Tell me you love me,” he whispered. “I love you, Robin,” I lied, the moan ripped from me. My body betrayed me utterly—legs shaking, skin on fire. The way he sucked my breasts was on another level.

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.