Never Giving Up (Never #3) by Anie Michaels Page A

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, “fuck 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.”
    He didn’t need to be told twice. His hand came over my mound and his finger started its torturous rhythm over my engorged clit. The feeling of his cock stroking that perfect spot inside of me and his finger teasing that hot bundle of nerves sent me spiraling into an orgasm like none I’d ever had. Shock waves moved from my sex, down my legs, curling my toes. I felt my inner walls clenching around him, illuminating how incredibly hard he was. I cried out and was surprised at my volume; surely the people in the room next to us could hear me. I felt a warm wetness seep out of me, pooling where our bodies connected.
    “Oh shit, Ella. You just came all over me.” He sounded surprised. I continued to rock back and forth, trying to stretch the orgasm out as long as it would last, my over-sensitized clit aching and trembling.
    “That,” I panted, still gently rocking him in and out of me, “was possibly the best orgasm I have ever had.”
    “My turn,” he said. In an instant he grabbed my waist and rolled me over. I was under him again, but this time he was still inside me. My legs instinctually wrapped around him, pulling him into me farther. He leaned down and brought one of my tight, pebbled nipples into his mouth. My back arched, offering him all of me, begging him to take. I willingly gave him everything, wanted to feel empty afterwards, needed him to take everything I had.
    I whimpered as I felt him start to move in and out of me, starting with slow strokes, but gradually pumping faster and faster. He brought my leg over his shoulder, changing the angle, causing me to cry out as I gripped his bulging shoulders.
    “Yes,” I cried, dangerously close to another orgasm. “Please . . .”
    “Hang on, Baby. Not yet. Wait for me.” I looked up at him, wondering how in