Forever & Always: The Ever Trilogy (Book 1) (26 page)

My fist was pumping his cock steadily now; I cupped his tip with my palm, rolled the leaking pre-come around and spread it, caressed his length, my fingers loose around him, just barely touching, and my other hand was in the hair at his nape, holding his head against my chest, his lips kissing my boobs all over, licking my nipples, paying homage to my tits.
 

He grabbed my hand and brought it away from him, pinned it against the wall, his muscles tensed and straining, his breath coming in short panting gasps. “I…I almost lost it,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “It’s been a long time, and I want you so bad. You’re so fucking gorgeous, and you touching me that way, I almost came all over your hand.”

I heard the embarrassment in his voice. “I want you to come,” I said. “I want to feel that. On my hands, on me, in me, anywhere. I don’t care. We have all the time in the world.”
 

I worked my hand loose from his grip and grasped his erection in my fist once more, brought him to the weak-kneed, gasping, trembling cusp of coming within a few slow strokes of my fist. I brought my other hand down from his neck and cupped his balls in my hand, whimpering as his fingers inside me brought me to the edge, like he was, together at the edge of orgasm but holding back, not ready to fall over yet.

Suddenly I was in the air and my legs were wrapping around his waist and my arms around his neck and he was at my entrance, his mouth on my tits and his breath hot and his hands hard and strong holding me by the ass, my back against the door, growling with the effort to hold back. He lifted his gaze to my eyes, saw the tears I hadn’t known were there until just that moment.

He froze. “Ever? What’s wrong? What did I do?”

I shook my head, buried my face against his neck. “No, nothing. I’m…so ready. I’m sorry I’m crying, I don’t know why I am, but it’s from all this being so much, so intense, so infinitely more incredible than I even hoped or dreamed or fantasized it could be.” He was poised at my entrance, and I was gushing emotional vulnerability to him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just—god, don’t stop. I want you inside me. Make love to me, Caden.”

He swiveled, holding me, strode easily across the living room, around the couch and the TV still flickering, forgotten, and stopped at the junction of the bathroom and the two bedroom doors. I gestured at my door and he pushed through it, kicked it closed, set me with utter gentility on the bed. I scooted back, knocking the throw pillows aside and kicking the blankets down, reaching for him, begging him to join me.
 

He stayed where he was, though, one knee on the edge of the bed, staring at me. “I want to remember this moment,” he said. “You, there on the bed, reaching for me, naked, so perfect. No one has ever looked at me the way you’re looking at me.”

“Like I love you so completely it almost hurts?” I asked. “Like you’re the center of my universe?”
 

It baffled me how my feelings for him could expand with such dizzying hyper-speed. It wasn’t so sudden, though, I realized, watching him climb onto the bed and crawl to me like a powerful, primal animal, lean and agile. It had been there all the time, I just hadn’t seen it, refused to acknowledge it, and all the while it had been building and growing silent and unseen inside me, a well of potential bubbling and simmering, ready to boil over, and now he was here with me, and he wanted me, loved me. And god, Jesus, he was so much
more
than I could fathom. His size and power and looks and the intensity in his gaze and the tenderness of his touch and the hunger in his kiss…it was all so much, too much. He overwhelmed me, and I nearly wanted to retreat away into my head, into my art, simply because I was in some way afraid, like he’d admitted, terrified of giving in to him and letting him take over my life and my soul and my body and having it taken away from me somehow.
 

He approached me like a hurricane, with inevitable might. His shoulders rolled as he crawled toward me, his hair hung over his eyes and his biceps rippled and his deltoids shifted like a prowling tiger’s, and his immense manhood jutted straight forward, bobbing with his motion, wagging side to side, hard and long and thick and straight and heavy. Watching him move was sheer eroticism, sexuality in motion, and my body responded. My nipples turned so hard they ached, and my loins clenched, my cleft went damp with desire, hot with anticipation.
 

My mouth fell open as his hands planted on either side of my hips, and my eyes went half-closed and I couldn’t look away from him. He licked his lips, and then his hands circled over my thighs and parted them, spreading me wide. I blushed, shifted, wanted to close my legs, embarrassed. I was on full display for him, and his eyes were roving over me, examining me, seeing every fold and crevice and drop of wetness and curl of pubic hair, and I couldn’t bear the scrutiny.

“You’re beautiful, Ever,” he whispered. “All over. I want to taste you.”

“Taste—taste me?” I squeaked the question, a panicked whisper gone wrong.
 

Oh, I knew what he was suggesting. Obviously, I did. But Billy and I had always been too impatient for oral sex. Or he had been, at least. He’d kiss me and touch me down there, and I’d touch him, and then we’d fumble out of our clothes and then he’d be there, inside me, and then it would be over. We’d found variations over time, of course, but other than the one time Billy had asked me to go down on him, oral sex had never come up. Now I wondered if it had something to do with Billy’s girlfriend. His
real
girlfriend, since I was just his piece of ass on the side. If he went down on her, but not me, because that would violate some odd sense of not-cheating ideas he might have.
 

I pushed those thoughts away, the errant thoughts of my brain gone off the rails, distracting itself to get away from the fear. Why was I afraid? This was Cade. My Cade. The boy I’d drawn with at Interlochen. The man I’d dreamed about, painted, shared everything with via handwritten letter.
 

My Cade.
 

And he wanted to go down on me. I met his eyes, and he was waiting, palms on my quads, fingers gently digging into the insides of my thighs, his thumbs brushing slowly up and down the outside of my core, gently stroking millimeters away from my labia.
 

“Ever? Are you okay? If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

“I’m just…nervous.”

He laughed, a confused, amused huff. “Nervous? Why are you nervous about this? I want to. I don’t expect you to ever go down on me if you don’t want to. I
want
to do this to you. I want to make you come like this. I want to feel you squirm and hear you moan.” Realization dawned on him. “Wait. Have you never…have you never had anyone do this to you before?”

I could only shake my head, for some reason embarrassed to admit it. I didn’t want to discuss what I had done and what he had done with anyone else. Not now. Not in so intimate a setting, so intense a moment.
 

Cade must have realized I wasn’t going to say anything, that I couldn’t, didn’t know what to say, so he lowered his mouth to just above my knee. “Stop me if you don’t like what I’m doing.”
 

His thumbs continued their gentle stroking, and his lips touched the inside of my knee, kissed upward an inch, and then the other leg in the same spot, and his mouth was hot and almost ticklishly tender on my flesh, but I liked it, felt a subtle response in my core. He kissed up my thighs, one side and then the other, and as his mouth neared my privates, his tongue began to flick out and touch my skin with each kiss, and then he paused and mouthed my inner thigh near the crease of my leg, pushed slightly so I stretched my leg higher, open wider, and he kissed there again, tongue laving me, and my insides began to heat up, uncoil, and then his mouth touched my pubis, and I heard a sigh release from me. Across, down the other crease of my thigh, down my thigh, back up, and then he hovered over my slit and breathed on it, his hot, damp breath making me shiver. And then he kissed my lips, my lower lips, and I moaned. Yes, I moaned very gently, almost inaudibly, and I knew that this would wreck me, undo me. My inner muscles were twitching and the wetness of need was pulsing through my privates, and he was only kissing, actually kissing, lips touching lips, no tongue yet.
 

Tongue, oh, shit, oh, god, his tongue speared into my pussy, and I gasped, a sharp surprised intake of breath, and my fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, and my hips lifted of their own accord. He pulled his mouth away and then brought it close, licked up my opening with his tongue flat and strong and pushing through, in, and another slow swipe of his tongue, farther in, and I was panting. Again, and again, he merely licked me, and I was coming undone already, and then he brought his thumbs to my labia and pulled them apart and his tongue flicked my clit, and I could only writhe helplessly and listen to myself moan, loud, wanton sounds of pleasure that I had no control over. His tongue hit my clit, flicked it, flicked it, then ran in quick circles around it and I felt my hips begin to move in time with his tongue. My moans were nonstop, gasping noises and increasingly desperate groans.
 

He slid a finger into me, one finger slicking deep into my channel and curling up, and now I didn’t merely moan or groan or even shriek, I outright screamed, head arcing back and my spine leaving the bed and my hips pushing up, shoving my quaking pussy into his mouth. I was holding his head against me, I knew it and couldn’t make myself loosen my hold, couldn’t exert any control over myself. I was lost, completely helpless. I couldn’t stop shrieking as his finger stroked that magical spot, finding it unerringly, and his tongue worked in increasingly rapid circles around my clit.
 

It began low in my belly, a knot of something hot and tight unfurling, billowing outward and downward. It was an orgasm. I knew that. I’d had countless orgasms before. Self-induced, and otherwise. I knew an orgasm when I felt it. But this…this was something else. My previous orgasms had been summer rain, brief and gentle. This…this was a thunderstorm, raw power raging through me.
 

Cade slowed the stroke of his fingers and the circling of his tongue, and I whimpered, thrust my core against him. “Cade…oh, fuck, Cade. Please. More. I need…I need…”

“Come for me, Ever.” His voice was a husky whisper, his breath hot on me.

“Please, Cade. Make me come. I’m so close.”

He curled his finger against my wall, sought and found that perfect spot and his tongue did something I couldn’t fathom to my clit, and I felt the edge approaching, a balloon expanding inside me, a volcano nearing eruption. And then he sucked my clit into his mouth and tugged, suckled, and his fingertip massaged inside me, and I didn’t even try to hold back.

I came with a deafening shriek, a scream that embarrassed me with its erotic, breathy desperation. It wasn’t an explosion—it was all of me coming apart, shattering. I couldn’t breathe to scream suddenly, and I was dizzy, spinning, my insides clenching, and he didn’t relent, didn’t stop or slow, kept sucking and flicking with his tongue and massaging with his finger, and I was arching off the bed and my hips were driving up and down.

I had to stop him, had to, I simply couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much, too intense, and I would die if he didn’t let me catch my breath. I fumbled at him, tugged him up to me.

But he didn’t relent even then. He poised above me, and I saw through dizzy eyes his hot gaze and his chest heaving and something wet slicking his mouth and cheeks. My essence, on his face. It was hot, for some reason. I wondered what I tasted like to him, smelled like. I lifted up and kissed him, tasted myself, musky and pungent.
 

And then he was there, at my entrance, and his hands were on either side of my face and he was waiting, and I couldn’t speak, was still too flustered and breathless from my explosive orgasm to form words, so I shifted my hips and pushed against his thick tip, gasped for air as he slid inside me.

I was spread open by him. He entered me slowly, filling me carefully. I felt myself stretching, almost painfully, as he pushed in to me. I watched his face, watched his expression turn to pure wonder, and I knew my own face mirrored the emotions on his.

“Oh…Ever…” he rested his forehead against mine, breath coming in slow deep gasps. “You’re…you’re so tight, so hot and wet and tight. You’re heaven, Ever. This is…being inside you is—it’s heaven.”

I could only pant as his cock stretched me and filled me past bursting. I couldn’t understand how I’d thought I knew what pleasure was until this. What ecstasy was until now, until I’d felt the perfection of Caden’s cock inside me.
 

I had to try to communicate this to him. He needed to know how this felt for me. “Cade, Caden. You…this is…everything.” Wow, that was eloquent. I tried again. “Your cock, I’ve never—never felt anything like your cock inside me. I could come again just from feeling you slide into me. Feeling you inside me like this is…it’s home. It’s where I belong, where you belong.”
 

I felt a tear prick, and he kissed it away, didn’t question it this time, and I knew he could see the wonder and the ecstasy and the love on my face. He was buried to the hilt inside me, our hips flush. He didn’t move, though, just held there, deep inside me, and lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me. It felt like my very first kiss, in a way, that kiss with his cock inside my pussy and his tongue inside my mouth and his palm skating over my cheek and down my chest and covering my breast. His fingers caught my nipple and twisted it gently, and I moaned, and he finally slid out partway, hesitated, and then thrust in.

“Yes!” The word shot out from my mouth, unbidden. “Oh, god yes, Cade. Again. More. God, please, more.”
 

He moaned then, and the sound of his moan made my pussy clench around him, the pleasure I heard in his voice as he drew back and pushed in. I couldn’t stop the whimpering moan, didn’t try to. I was going to be loud, I knew I was. So loud. I didn’t care. The whole world could hear me, and I wouldn’t care. He was all that mattered, his huge erection inside me, moving, filling me and completing me and driving me wild was all I cared about.