Forever & Always: The Ever Trilogy (Book 1) (32 page)

“Talk to me, Cade. I need to hear your voice when I come.”

I reached with my free hand, cupped one of her big, swaying tits. “You feel so good, Ever. So good.” I wasn’t as good at talking dirty as she was. It took me some time to work my way into it. “I love watching your tits bounce when I fuck you like this.”
 

Ever shifted her rhythm, going from smooth and slow to hard and fast, accentuating the motion of her boobs. She did it for me, and I responded by trying an in-and-out wiggle of my middle finger, mimicking the way my cock moved inside her.

“Yes, baby, like that. I love that.” I let go of her breast and watched them both move, jiggle, and sway. “I’m so close, Ev. I’m gonna come soon. I can’t hold it back much longer.”

She was breathless, and both of us were sweating, our skin sliding and our sweat mingling. “Don’t hold back, Cade. Come for me right now. Fuck me so hard that you can’t stop.”

My finger was inside her to the first knuckle, and I slid it incrementally deeper, and she groaned with every motion of my hand. “I love your ass, Ev. Your asshole is so tight, I almost can’t move my finger any more.” I felt the impending explosion rise within me, and felt my words loosen, tumble out without direction, felt my hips start to piston harder, felt her ass bounce with every thrust, watched in the mirror as her tits bounced so beautifully with the rhythm of our love. “I’m right there, baby. I’m so hard, so deep inside you. Jesus, fuck, I’m coming, baby. I’m coming, Ever, right now. Come with me, love…”

“If You Want Me” by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova played in the background, my brain tuning in to the music abruptly.

“Caden…Caden…” Ever rocked back into me, matching my thrusts with her own, matching my need and my passion and my hunger, satisfying me perfectly even as she made me want her even more. I felt her quake, felt her pussy tighten around my cock, felt her body shake and shudder, felt her asshole clamp down around my finger. “I’m coming, my love…I can feel your cock exploding inside me, Caden. Fuck me harder, don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

Her words made me wild, primal and unstoppable, and I came in that moment, exploding with the rhythm of her words. She was chanting my name, pushing back into me, thrusting against my gliding cock, panting, screaming. I couldn’t take my eyes off us, off my reflection above her and behind her, her face straining and her breasts moving and her soft pale skin, and nothing, nothing had ever been this good, not ever.
 

Our eyes locked as our mutual orgasms collided and our souls merged, coalescing through our gazes.
 

Time slowed and stopped, and the love I saw shining in Ever’s luminous jade gaze was indescribable, overflowing and overwhelming and at once potent and so tender. I tried to let my own expression flow with how I felt, the upwelling surge of passion for this woman, this amazing person who had given herself to me so completely, so trustingly. Our movement slowed, and I slipped out of her folds, gathered her against me. My knees shook, sweat beaded on my skin, my breath came in gasps, but I lifted her in my arms and carried her into our bedroom, settled her gently on our bed. She burrowed into me, let her hand skate over my skin.

“I love you, Ever. I wish those words were stronger, I wish I had some way of expressing it better.”

She tilted her face to look up at me. “You just did, baby.”

I grinned. “That
was
pretty fucking intense.”

“You mean it was pretty intense fucking?”

“That, too.” I kissed her temple, her forehead, her cheekbone. “But it was more than fucking, Ever. So much more.”

She shrugged. “It’s just a word, Cade. For us, everything we do is…
more
. We have sex, and it’s making love, because that’s what it’s expressing, every single time, whatever kind of sex it is. Whether it’s hot and hard and dirty, or soft and slow, it’s making love. It’s fucking. It’s boning. It’s shagging. It’s…all the slang words, I guess. It’s pure and it’s perfect and I love it, whatever you call it. I just like the word ‘fucking’ because it…I don’t know, it turns me on for some reason. I don’t know if I can explain it any better than that. I love fucking you. I love being fucked by you. Because it’s you and me, it’s not…it’s not less, or less important, or anything because of what word we use.”

She kissed my breastbone, and her hand smoothed over my stomach, found my cock, and fondled it. Her mouth was hot and moist on my skin, her hand soft, her fingers caressing and manipulating me into arousal. I wondered, as she kissed my torso and fondled my growing erection, if I would ever get used to this with her, if I would ever take it for granted, if I would ever get tired of it. I couldn’t see how that would be possible. Every time we made love, every time I kissed her, it felt better than the last time. Every time we came together, I felt closer to her than ever, more intertwined with her, more tangled up in her.
 

“Don’t—don’t ever leave me, Ever,” I whispered, fiercely, desperately, needily.

She paused, glanced at me. Her eyes blazed. “
Never
, Caden. Never. I promise you. I’ll never leave you.”

~ ~ ~ ~
 

Ever

“Little House” by Amanda Seyfried played in the studio, the soft strains floating to us. Cade’s eyes were closed, but I knew he wasn’t asleep. I couldn’t close my eyes, couldn’t take my gaze from his body. I couldn’t stop touching him. He was growing hard in my hand, slowly responding to my touch. I wanted this to last forever, this feeling of anticipation, completely sated, flush with his love, yet still ravenous for him, ready to feel him inside me again, fill me again, sate me all over again.
 

The only thing in the way was having to pee. I whispered, “Be right back,” to him, heard him murmur an acknowledgment, and went into the bathroom to pee and clean up a bit. When I came back, he’d rolled to his side, facing me, watching me approach through slitted eyes. I added a sashay to my hips for him, and melted at the smile he gave me.
 

It was intoxicating, the way he wanted me, the way he needed me, responded to me. The slightest touch, a kiss, a simple caress, and he would moan, growl, go hard. I could bring him to the edge of coming within seconds of touching him.
 

It was just as dizzying a high belonging to him. I was his, completely. He knew me, owned and controlled my body, my pleasure. I gave him everything I had, and he did the same for me, and together, we knew total ecstasy in every touch, every kiss, every moment spent naked and writhing together.

All this passed through my mind as I climbed into our bed, twisted to lie on my side, slid my back against his front. He kissed the round of my shoulder, pulled my hair away and kissed my ear, my neck. His hand cradled my breast, and I felt my nipple aching for his touch. I shimmied my hips against his groin, and felt the rewarding prod of his hard cock thick against my ass.
 

I wondered, briefly, about that, having him in me there, but then his fingers danced over my belly, distracting me, and I moaned as his touch tripped down over the shaved mound of my pussy and between the tender, sensitive lips, and his touch brought heat billowing through my core, the slick, wet heat of desire.

“Oh, god, Cade…” I moaned, “I need you.”

“I’m so hard it hurts,” he whispered in my ear. “Already. What do you do to me?”

“Same thing you did to me.”

I was rocking into his hand by that point, writhing on his two middle fingers, panting and riding the verge of orgasm. I reached behind me and grasped his hot, silky hard erection, shifted my hips and draped my leg over his thigh. He bit my earlobe and breathed my name, “
Ever…
” and then I felt his huge cock glide into me, and I was complete again, filled by him.
 

With no words spoken, only mutual understanding, we rolled together so I was lying on him, my spine against his chest, my knees bent and my head arched back over his shoulder, my ass against his groin and his cock deeper inside me than it had ever been. His fingers were still circling my turgid, throbbing clit, pressing lightning into me, drawing heat from me, making me so wet his thrusting cock slicked and slipped and squished.

“God…
damn
, Ever, you’re so…
juicy
.” He laughed at his own words. “So wet for me. God, do you feel the way I slide inside you?”

“I feel it…I feel it. You’re so deep, Cade,” I gasped, “almost too much, but so perfectly too much. Go slow, baby. So slow. Slow as you can. Love me slowly.”

He moved sinuously, slow as the coursing of the stars in the sky, loving me with every inch of his body, fingers in me, cock in me, hands on my belly and my breasts, tweaking my nipples into diamonds, kissing my neck and my ear. I twisted my head and his lips met mine and he was all around me, beneath me, kissing my breath away, stealing my soul with his mouth on mine, except my soul was his already.

I came, a first slow pulsing glow, and he kept gliding glacially slowly into me, kissing me, making out as we made love, tongues dancing, his palm cupping my breasts, caressing them and kneading them and his fingers circling my clit, dousing me in wet desire.
 

Another pulsing orgasm, stronger now, followed by a third like a crashing ocean wave. I didn’t understand what was happening, those small cresting climaxes, one after another, each building upon the next.

They were waves, I realized, not orgasms, but the buildup to one so massive it would shred me.
 

I slid my body against him, pressing my heels into the bed to move away, crushing my hips down against his up-thrust, clutching at him with my hands over my head, holding his face to mine, imprisoning his lips to my kiss. Wave after wave struck me, broke through me, and I couldn’t breathe for the potency of each new climaxing swell, and still he loved me without speeding his pace, a tireless rhythm, a slow sine wave of bliss.

I began to grow frantic as the waves of ecstasy neared their apogee. I moved against him, sought speed and friction and pressure, but he never relinquished the slow pace I’d begged for. I panted into his mouth, not kissing him now but merely gasping, biting his lower lip, writhing helplessly on top of him.
 

There was no way to measure how long we moved together that way, in silence except for our breathing and our bodies’ slide and the faint music playing in the background. We were silent, uncharacteristically silent, feeling something being created in this timeless moment together, this desperate, catalytic fraction of eternity.
 

I felt his body tense and his muscles go iron hard beneath me, felt his cock swell inside me and his motion go staccato as he neared his release.
 

My hands were around the back of his head, pulling myself up on the column of his neck, lowering myself with ever more forceful movements, and I felt him cruising into me, crushing into me, delving deeper and harder, not faster, only with more power and more force.

Our mouths were touching and open, sharing gasped breaths, eyes meeting and sparking, and I couldn’t fathom what was happening, what this was, how I could feel his very essence within my mind, expanding in my heart, how our souls could meld with the heat of our bodies’ union.
 

Cade, in orgasms past, came with a soft grunt, a low groan or growl, a curse or a breathed whispering of my name. I was the loud one, the screamer.
 

Now I felt a growl begin in his chest as his cock drove into me, and I heard my own voice begin to groan wordlessly. We moved in perfect sync, ultimate unison, matching stroke for stroke, our voices raising louder and louder until Cade was growling like a lion and I was shrieking breathlessly, abandoned to him, to us, to this.
 

Louder still, Cade bellowing and roaring, me screaming.
 

The waves were one now, a blasting, fiery inferno torching every synapse, every molecule, my belly clenching and my pussy clamping down around his cock, and I felt him lose all control with a shout, fucking into me with such power that my body shook and spasmed and yet I met his urgency with my own, rolling my hips, all my weight on his chest and my frantically digging heels, grinding into his thrusts with all the strength I had, feeding the frenzy in us both, the nuclear reaction detonating within us, a wild mad frisson, becoming something unknown heretofore, something like the moment that had begun the whirling of the universe, an instant of creation that cannot be caught by mere words, something true and pure and past the scope of human comprehension, a tearing of the veil between heaven and earth so that as we moved in erupting love we saw into eternity together, we saw the face of God, the fabric of infinity.

I wept, and felt his tears on my cheek.
 

His eyes blazed amber, wet with tears I knew matched my own, love made liquid and escaping through our pores as sweat, our eyes as tears, our most intimate places as the juices squeezed from passion.

“Ever…” he breathed, and I heard the susurrus of words unspoken thick in those two syllables.
 

“Caden,” I whispered, and let my eyes refract the love I felt bursting from my being.

Silence.
 

Breath, sweat, tears, love.
 

Purity of connection.

Eternity.

We slept, dreamed, twined together in body and in spirit.

an arpeggio, descending

Caden

’Twas the night before Christmas…and the roads were complete shit. Actually, it was the night before Christmas Eve, but close enough. I’ve always hated that stupid poem, except for the way Clark Griswold recites it in
National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
. Ever and I were on our way home from shopping and a late dinner, driving through a blizzard. The snow was so thick I couldn’t see the lines on the road ten feet in front of me. I was going barely thirty on I-75, wishing I didn’t have to pee and cursing the snow. Ever, in the seat beside me, had her feet up on the dashboard, her phone casting a white glow on her face. She was texting someone, Eden most likely. My wife and her twin had been fighting for the last week, arguing via text message about whether Ever and I were going to go to Mr. Eliot’s house for Christmas tomorrow morning, and whether we were going to tell him we’d gotten married. Ever didn’t want to go, and
really
didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t see the point, she claimed. She hadn’t seen her father in months; he hadn’t made any attempt to contact her, hadn’t come to see her. I’d never met Mr. Eliot, except that one time in the parking lot of Interlochen, nearly six years ago.