Page 88 of Fighting for Ella

Carrying Ella into the house, Miguel kicked the door closed behind him as Ella’s lips crashed down onto his. This time, theyweren't having sex in the hall, he was having her in the bed, taking his time, worshipping her body, and giving her everything she deserved and more.

Upstairs in the bedroom, he set her on her feet only long enough to remove her clothes and his own and then he was scooping her up again and laying her down on the lacy bedspread.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as his gaze roamed her body wanting to touch and taste every inch of it. “Who does this belong to, honey?” he asked as he ran a finger across her center.

“You,” Ella whimpered, her hips coming off the bed.

“And this?” he asked as he grasped his length and stroked it from base to tip. “Who does this belong to?”

“Me,” she whispered, voice wavering as he moved down her body, spreading her legs so he could settle between them.

“That’s right, honey. You belong to me, and I belong to you,” he said, his mouth right above where she was already soaked for him.

Miguel wasn't sure who moaned louder at the first stroke of his tongue. She tasted like heaven, not that that was a real taste, but he swore that’s what he thought of as he teased her entrance, then moved to suckle on her bud.

Ella’s hands clutched at his head, tangling in his short hair as he alternated between swirling the tip of his tongue on her bundle of nerves and suckling on it, and thrusting as deep inside her as he could manage.

Incoherent sounds tumbled from Ella’s lips, spurring him on. She was going to come on just his tongue, then his fingers, and only then was he going to enter her and find his own release. He needed her to know how much he adored her, how lost on her he was.

Her ecstasy-filled cries filled the room as he gave her her first orgasm of the night.

Without letting her come down from her high, Miguel moved up her body, his lips finding hers as his fingers took the place his tongue had just vacated. Again, he alternated between stroking deep inside her, making sure to curl his fingers at just the right angle to catch that spot he knew he could use to make her fall apart, and working her sensitive bud.

His responsive girl was quickly rushing toward a second orgasm. He could tell in the desperate way her tongue dueled with his, in the way her body writhed beneath him, the way her fingers clawed at his back, drawing him closer even though his body covered hers.

When she came, clamping around his fingers as his thumb worked her bundle of nerves, he swallowed her scream, making it part of him. Her pleasure was his because there was no sweeter feeling in the world than knowing you made your girl come so hard she forgot her own name, anything less was unacceptable.

“My Ella,” he murmured as he lined himself up and thrust into her in one smooth move.

Ella cried out, her already fluttering internal muscles clamped around him, and he groaned, almost losing his control and coming too soon. Not until his girl was riding that high with him.

“Move, honey, move with me. Take what you need. Whatever it is I’ll give it to you, always.”

“You,” Ella said, lifting her head to press her lips to his. “All I need is you.”

“You have me, honey. All of me.”

Together they set a steady pace, climbing higher and higher as one, and when Miguel knew he couldn’t hold off a second longer, he reached between them, took Ella’s bud between his fingers, and tweaked it, setting off a chain reaction as her orgasm triggered his own.

It exploded around him with a force he’d been unprepared for, picking him up and sweeping him away into a galaxy he hadn't even known existed.

This was what it felt like to be falling in love. To be so consumed with another person that you quickly forgot where you ended, and they began.

As terrifying as it was, it was also the most exhilarating feeling in the world.

Whatever it took he was going to keep his addictions in check because there was no way he was ever going to risk causing this amazing woman even an ounce of pain.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

March 21st

10:08 P.M.

This washer favorite place to be.

Right here in Miguel’s arms.

Too bad it wasn't possible to stay right where she was for the rest of her life. She didn't really need to go to work, did she? Or eat? Or shower? Or do anything other than this?

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