Never Giving Up (Never #3)(82)

“God, Ella, you have one sexy mouth.”

Before I had a chance to respond, his mouth was on mine, covering it, melding to my lips. A soft moan escaped me and I wound my hands up behind his neck, running my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck that had grown long in the summer months. I pulled him into me, used my tongue to beg him to let me in. His hands both found my face and he angled me perfectly against him and took everything. The kiss went from tentative to scorching in one instant and I was more than willing to risk being singed from getting too close to the flame.

There was nothing between us—no space, no air, no fear. Whatever he was, I was that too. We were the same in that moment. He walked me backwards until my legs bumped up against the mattress. I sat down, breaking our kiss, only to peel away his belt and pants, shoving them to the ground around his ankles, needing him to be free of any obstacles. I needed access. I needed connection.

My hands slid up his chest, fingers rippling over hard muscle as I pushed his shirt up, urging him to remove it. He was free of all his clothes quickly, crawling over me with a growl. His mouth chased mine all the way to the head of the bed where his lips finally caught me, kissing and breathing and taking everything from me. His hands were everywhere, skimming over my thighs, moving around to grasp at the swell of my bottom, covering my breasts, palming them, thumbs brushing over my nipples, causing me to cry out.

My body woke up, no longer submissive to his seduction. My hands wandered over his arms, my leg hiked itself over his calf, my hips rolled up to find him.

He placed wet kisses along my collar bone, moving in towards the valley between my breasts. I felt him pull the silk and lace away from my body as he continued down, his mouth capturing my breast, taking my nipple in his mouth hungrily.

“Oh, Yes. God, Porter . . .” My hands were in his hair, hips still grinding upwards, trying to connect. “Don’t stop,” I cried. His tongue flicked over one nipple while his fingers started tugging gently on the other.

“You taste fantastic,” he said around my breast. His words registered but I couldn’t respond, couldn’t find the words. His mouth and hand moved away from me and I heard myself moan at his absence. He grabbed the hem of the nighty I wore and started pushing it up and over my head, leaving me only in the lace thong that came with the ensemble. Once I was free of the garment his mouth began its pilgrimage down my body again, gifting my skin with his tongue and lips. When he made it to the thong I felt his laugh rumble in his chest.

“These look rather flimsy.” Without another word he wrapped the lace around his hands and pulled it apart slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. Eventually, the panties gave way and I was left bare and trembling.

“I hope those weren’t expensive,” I managed through a shaky breath.

“Only the best for my wife.”

Without further conversation his mouth descended upon me and I gasped as his tongue caressed me, parting me, and only adding fuel to the heat he’d already built there. His tongue worked quickly, first just gliding up and down but then I felt him deeper and I lost the ability to keep my eyes open or my mouth closed.

“Yes, Ella.” He rasped against my most sensitive skin. “Give me all of your sexy sounds. I want to hear you whimper. I want to hear you scream.” He moved his mouth to my clit and my hands moved into his hair. He worked me like he was starved, relentlessly swiping his tongue against me, kissing and sucking until my back was arched and my hands gripped his hair tightly, holding him against me.

“More . . .” I managed. The pressure was maddening. I was just a fragment away from breaking to pieces. His tongue and lips and mouth had sent me skyrocketing into bliss and I wanted so desperately to crash back down on a wave of ecstasy. “Oh God, just a little more . . .” I begged. I felt him shift and gasped when his fingers entered me. He pumped in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue, and the pleasure became almost too much to bear.

“No, no, I can’t . . . please . . .”

All the muscles in my body were coiled, tightened, ready to snap. My head shook back and forth, my voice pleading for the orgasm that would surely end me. Porter responded by growling against me, the vibrations pushing me that much higher, his fingers becoming more aggressive, and his other hand reaching up and palming my breast. I mewled and thrashed, experiencing the universe’s most brutal and beautiful build up in the history of orgasms, and all it took to send me over the edge were his eyes. I looked down, wanting to watch him work my body into hysterics. Our eyes met and all I could see in the chocolaty pools was love. His eyes pleaded with me to come, to give him everything I had, to offer myself to him in that way.

And then I fell.

I crashed.

I burst.

I was still in the middle of the most exquisite orgasm I’d ever experienced when he slowly entered me. Shaking and trembling, my hands found his face and pulled him down to me. I didn’t have the wherewithal to kiss him, I just held his mouth against mine, breathing him in, still coming down, still floating back to earth.

He slowly pumped in and out of me, prolonging my superb orgasm, expertly building me towards another one before I’d even landed from the first.

“You’re all I’ll ever want, Ella,” he said, suddenly changing the mood of our lovemaking from scorching and hot to heart wrenching and beautiful. “I’ll never need anything as long as I’ve got you.” His words touched me and his mouth splayed tiny kisses along my neck and he continued to move inside me.