Never Giving Up (Never #3)(25)
“Please . . . I need to touch you.”
He pulled away from my breast to look me in the eye. “What more can I do to convince you? To show you that you’re all I’ll ever want, all I’ll ever need?” As he said the words, his hips rolled into mine, igniting a whole new flame within me, sending a slow burn out through my veins. “I’m yours, Ella. I’ll never be anyone else’s and I’ll never want anyone else. Tell me that I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”
Spurred on by his words, I felt a surge of possession rush through me. Of course he belonged to me and of course he wouldn’t look at another woman, let alone touch one. We were the same, him and I, unimportant in life before we found each other. Worthwhile? Yes. Meaningful? Yes. But lacking still on a very base level. I was nothing until he found me and he had nothing before I found him. Together we were everything that mattered.
He loosened his grip on my wrist and I pried it free, using both of my hands to bring his mouth to mine in a kiss that had so much electricity I was sure we lit up the room. I saw lights—white, blinding lights. My body was drawn to his, my back arching, my hips searching for his, trying to take the edge off the lust. I needed the contact, craved it, so I pushed up and forced him to roll onto his back. Never breaking the contact of our kiss, I brought my leg over his waist and straddled him, still using my hands to keep his mouth on mine.
I could feel so much more of him this way, my body getting the rush of the contact it was longing for. My hands ran along the chiseled planes of his chest, my hips grinding onto his erection, my body came alive. He pushed my hair out of my face as he continued to kiss me, his hand finding the back of my neck, pulling me into him, pushing his cock against me, hot and hard; I knew he ached just like me.
I broke our kiss and reached to pull my nightgown over my head. Before I could even throw it on the floor, his hands were on me again, kneading and teasing. I placed my hands over his, loving the feeling of what he was doing to me, the way his hands felt on my breasts. I leaned down to place another small kiss on his lips and felt his hands glide down my sides, over my ribcage. I continued with my mouth down his chin, over his throat, and farther south down the center of his chest.
I found him hot and hard, the short hair around his cock still a little damp from his shower. I wrapped a hand around him and could feel him pulsing between my fingers, literally throbbing. I opened my mouth and licked the underside of his shaft from root to tip, swirling my tongue around the head a few times, finally making eye contact with him as I took him fully into my mouth. I watched his eyes disappear as his lids fluttered closed, and heard a strangled moan escape from his mouth as it gaped open.
He was such a strong and assertive man; it wasn’t very often that I saw him give up his dominance. Knowing I was the one making him forget his need to be the aggressor only fueled the fire raging within me. My mouth took him in and the heat radiating off him simply warmed me. Everything combined—the heat, the throbbing, his relinquishment of control—it all boiled over and I felt myself start to claim him. Every bob of my head, every lick, every caress, it was all meant to convey one thing—that he was mine. Lost in the moment, living in the feeling of what passed between us, I hardly noticed he’d regained some attentiveness. I felt his hand move my hair from the side of my face, allowing him the pleasure of watching me love him. Our eyes met again and I watched as his hands came to grip me behind my neck, pulling me back up towards him.
He pulled my face within inches of his, both of his hands tangled in my hair, gently tugging. “Take me,” he whispered. “I’m yours.” We collided then, in every way possible. My mouth met his, my hands found his skin, and with one quick roll of my hips I captured him, felt him fill me completely. We were connected, emotionally and physically, and I couldn’t help but think about how much deeper our connection was; I always had a piece of him in me, carrying his child, tying me to him irrevocably.
“If you’re mine,” I said against his mouth, “then I’m yours.”
He growled and pulled down on my hips, burying himself deeper inside of me, causing me to gasp. I sat up, adjusting to being so incredibly full. My eyes closed and my head tipped back, my hands finding purchase behind me on his muscular thighs. I felt his hands roaming all over me, gliding over my skin, causing goose bumps to rise, blood to pulse. I rocked back and forth on him, mouth falling open at the instant pleasure coursing through me at the contact. I rode him, the head of his cock always managing to find that one spot, deep inside, that sent shockwaves and electricity straight to my core.
He let me continue to ride him, pulling my hips down onto him, adding beautiful pressure to my movement, allowing every feeling to be magnified. I spent most of my time working him over, making sure that he enjoyed it just as much as I did. I listened for his growls, taking note of what was turning him on, what was making him pulse within me. I started moving my hips in a small circle and heard him let out a gasp, followed by a low and slow, “f*ck me.” I smiled, because that was exactly what I intended to do.
“Porter, look at me,” I rasped, still working my hips in slow and small circles over his cock, filled completely. I watched as his eyes opened and slowly focused on me. He looked magnificent. His biceps strained from their tight grasp on my waist. His eyes hooded with lust. His stone-like abs constricting from pleasure. “No one will ever get to rub themselves all over you like this but me.” He bit his lip and groaned, pulling me down on him even more. “Now, touch me, Porter. Make me come.”