Never Giving Up (Never #3) (12 page)

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 the world he thought I could hold off an orgasm. I was put in a trance as I watched a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, trail down the bridge of his nose, and drip off him, landing right in the middle of my chest. Then his eyes met mine and I felt so many emotions in his gaze. This man loved me more than any other single thing on the planet. He treasured me, coveted me, wanted me, above anything else, me and the baby we made together.

“I will always wait for you,” I said as I brushed my hand through his hair, bringing his lips down to mine. He kissed me, his tongue brushing up against mine, like I was a breath of air given to a drowning man. And then he took. He took everything. I was lost in the feeling of his possession, swirling in the heat building between us, dangling off the edge of my world, hanging on by the connection between us, waiting for him.

“Now,” he growled at me, as he seemed to lose his composure, pushing into me with new speed and fervor, gripping my hips harder, lifting me up to get to depths previously unknown to either of us. I cried out as I tumbled through my release and felt him tumble with me. We breathed in tandem, both of us slowly coming down from new heights. He rested over me, our sweaty bodies still entangled, his face nestled in the space between my neck and shoulder. I turned my head towards him slightly and placed a small, open-mouthed kiss on his cheek, loving the salty taste of his skin.

“All that baby-making practice really paid off,” I whispered into his ear, hoping to see his beautiful deep brown eyes. I was rewarded when he lifted his head to look at me, and was gifted another surprise to see his smirk. Nothing was sexier than my man, sweaty from sex and smirking at me.

“You can’t give all the praise to practice, Baby. There’s something to be said for natural born talent. You’ve got it in spades,” he said as he brushed the tip of his nose up against mine, making me smile in return. He gave me a quick kiss and then rolled off me. Immediately I was left cold, the frigid air turning my previously hot and sweaty body into a shivering mess.

“Hey,” I said quietly. He turned his head to look at me, his hair all kinds of crazy, still sweat soaked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned you or doubted you. You did nothing wrong.” I let out a small sigh, taking just a moment to put my thoughts into words. “I think lately I’m just feeling really insecure and tonight it manifested itself in a jealous streak.” He rolled closer to me, draping his arms around my waist, resting his forehead against mine.

“I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now, with everything happening to you and your body. I get it. I really do. But you have to understand, and
believe me
when I tell you that seeing your body change, knowing it’s my baby inside of you causing that change, it’s the sexiest thing to witness. I see nothing but beauty when I look at you.”

His words warmed me. I believed him and I trusted him, always and completely. But I also knew that there would be times down the road when I would forget this moment and give in to the demons in my mind out to sabotage me.

“I promise to try and remember that you’re always on my team, but I might need a reminder every once in a while.” I peeked out at him through my eyelashes.

“Oh trust me, Ella. If what we just did is the kind of reminder you need, I’ll be more than willing to give you a refresher.”

“Ok,” I said shyly. He smiled at me and landed a loud smack on my naked ass. “Ow!” I exclaimed, caught off guard by his attack.

“Come on, let’s take a shower and go to sleep.”

I followed him to the bathroom and started to unwind under the hot water spraying down on us. I let Porter wash me, loving the gentle feeling of his hands on me, spreading silky soap over my skin, getting sleepier and more tired as he used his hands to knead out the tense muscles in my back.

I was hardly conscious when he pulled me from the shower, dried and dressed me, and put me in the king-sized bed. The last thing I remembered was feeling the comforter being pulled over me and his lips on my temple, telling me he loved me before I drifted into darkness.

Living with a pregnant woman was more challenging than I could have ever anticipated. Not only was I trying to deal with running, essentially, two businesses, I was constantly worried about Ella and the baby. When we were together, my focus was making sure she had anything and everything she needed. Most days she was happily content, if not stubbornly independent. Did I want her walking up the two flights of stairs to get her giant pillow from the bedroom? No. Did she want to get it herself because she was, as she so eloquently stated, “Pregnant, not immobile?” Yes. So, I found myself compromising a lot—picking my battles. I let her make her way up the stairs all she wanted, but I made sure to carry in all of the groceries, do all the laundry, and generally make life easier for her. Of course, I had to be sneaky about all of it so she didn’t catch on. I figured eventually she’d tire of walking up stairs.

Today she was six months pregnant and her bulge from a few months ago blossomed into the most beautiful bump I’d ever seen. She was perfectly round in all the right places. My newest favorite activity was just sitting on the couch with my hands on her stomach, coaxing our baby into kicking so I could feel the most incredible thing in the world: my baby moving in her belly. The baby would kick, Ella would laugh, and I rode the wave of bliss that came over me every time.

Each day she grew more beautiful, more precious to me, and more impressive. Motherhood was something she was inherently good at. Our baby wasn’t even born and yet, she already was a great mother. The fear in the beginning of pregnancy of the actual birth, transformed into a need to be educated and prepared. She took Lamaze classes, prenatal yoga classes, and read every book she could about childbirth. I did not envy the task and tried to hide the fear that slowly grew inside of me. The bigger her belly grew, the more I grasped the idea that she would, in fact, have to birth a baby. So, if I had to run to the grocery store for mint ice cream at three in the morning, so be it.

I stood next to Patrick, watching my gorgeous wife walk down the aisle, wearing a flowing dress that took my breath away. She eyed me as she walked towards the altar, smiling like she had a secret. I almost didn’t notice when Megan started her walk down the aisle, I was so caught up in Ella. Then everyone stood and looked at Megan and my eyes were drawn to the bride making her way towards her groom.

Megan became one of my favorite people in the last year. She was still young and sometimes acted her age, but she was a great sister and simply fun to be around. She and Patrick were a phenomenal couple and I admired him for loving Megan as she was, never trying to reign her in. Her hand was threaded through her father’s elbow as he walked her down the aisle, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, looking at Patrick with clear and obvious love.

The ceremony wasn’t long, but filled with love and commitment. Traditional vows were made by both bride and groom and were spoken with such conviction I had no doubt they were making a conscious decision, not going into the marriage lightly. I was proud of both of them. I looked over at my own bride as she watched her little sister kiss her husband for the first time, wiping tears from her eyes. She looked over at me briefly and I winked at her, wanting to wipe the tears from her eyes myself.

I kissed her temple as she met me to walk back down the aisle, and felt my heart beat faster when she leaned into me, taking the comfort I was offering. She could be stubborn about a lot of things, but taking the love I offered her was never one of them.

Our duties in the wedding were over with the ceremony and I was very much looking forward to spending some time with my wife; she’d been noticeably absent the last couple of days, making sure everything with Megan’s wedding was on track. Both Poppy and Dahlia were closed today so that all the girls could be here to celebrate, and that was a big deal in and of itself. The only time a store was closed in the past was just shortly after the shooting at Poppy. Megan was moved when Ella told her the stores would both be closed.

“You look beautiful,” I whispered into Ella’s ear as we danced. My hand was on the small of her back, pulling her close to me.

“Thank you. I paid someone a lot of money to make me look this way,” she said with a laugh.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

She smiled at me, her blue eyes sparkling. “Thank you.” Her voice was soft and light. We swayed back and forth to the music and we both had to laugh when a big thump was felt against my stomach, coming from hers. “Baby wants to dance too,” she said as her hand came to the spot she’d just been kicked in.

“I still can’t believe the two of you won’t find out what you’re having,” Megan said as her and Patrick danced up next to us. We, all four, stopped dancing while Megan laid her hand on Ella’s stomach, hoping to feel the baby move.

“We know what we’re having, Megan—a baby.”

“You know what I mean,” Megan responded with a sigh.

“I’m really looking forward to the surprise,” I said as I took my wife back into my arms, wanting her belly and baby kicks to be saved for me alone.

Megan looked over at her new groom. “Don’t get any ideas. When we get pregnant, we’re finding out if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Patrick held his hands up in surrender. “I wouldn’t even dare to suggest otherwise.”