Forever & Always

by Jasinda Wilder

  He held onto my ass and kissed my pubis, down over the close-cropped hair, and I was limp in his touch, quivering all over, barely able to stand, yet I found the strength to grasp his shoulders and widen my stance. "Yes..." I whispered, "please. Kiss me. Right there, please, Cade." I loved saying his name, loved whispering his name with such sexual heat.

  And then he pulled his mouth away. "I thought we were moving somewhere more private?"

  I could have screamed. "I don't care...not now. I just need you."

  He let his forehead rest against my belly. "I don't want to share the sounds you're making for me with anyone else. I don't...I don't want to be interrupted. I don't want you to be embarrassed later."

  He was thinking of me, protecting me from my own impatience. I did indeed feel a rush of embarrassment as I realized anyone could walk in. I'd unlocked the door to let him and hadn't relocked it. Eden had a tendency to visit me without warning, and so did Ms. Meier, my mentor.

  I pulled him to his feet. "Come on. My room."

  "But your roommate..." He buttoned my shirt from the bottom up, missing a button, so it was crooked.

  "She'll leave. Or we'll have to close my door and be quiet." I tugged my yoga pants on, grabbed my shirt, bra, and shoes off the floor, and led Cade by the hand across the road to my dorm room.

  Steph was on the couch, a thick textbook on her knees, glasses on top of her head, a Doctor Who episode playing on TV. She glanced up as we entered, took one look at Cade's mussed hair, my misbuttoned shirt and clothes tucked under my arm and the fevered expression on my face, and shot to her feet. "I'll just...go to Mark's," she stammered, ducking her head as she vanished into her room, packed a bag in record time, and stuffed her feet into a pair of clogs. "Text me when it's...safe." And with that, she was gone.

  I locked the door behind her, flattened my palms against the door and leaned back against it. "Now we're alone." I'd been in such a hurry, but now I wanted to delay the moment, revel in the heat in his eyes, the obvious bulge at his zipper, the pounding excitement racing in my veins.

  "Very much alone," Cade said, taking a step closer to me.

  I reached for him, but instead of pulling him against me and kissing him, I grasped the hem of his T-shirt and lifted it up, over his head and off, memorizing his unique scent as I tossed it aside. My eyes devoured him. I'd seen the evidence of his build through the shirt, but nothing could prepare me for the dizzying splendor of his bare torso. I let my head thunk against the door, my gaze raking over him. Broad shoulders, thick, heavy arms and bulging pectoral muscles, rippling abs, a hint of a wicked V-cut peeking above the waistband of his boxers. Every muscle was hard and huge and defined, but not from hours in the gym, rather from hard work, the natural muscle of a strong man who knew how to use his body, and did. He looked like he could wrestle a bull to the ground, carry a foal on his shoulders, lift a bale of hay with ease.

  After his shirt was gone, he unbuttoned three buttons on mine, then stopped. "I buttoned it crooked," he said with a laugh.

  "I know," I said. "You were kind of distracted."

  I ran my hands over his shoulders, down his biceps and back up, over his pecs, down his abs, splaying my fingers and tracing the lines of his abs. His gaze was locked on me, his hands resting on my hips, waiting to see what I would do. I looked up to meet his eyes. His mouth fell open and his chest expanded with a huge inbreath as I crooked an index finger inside the elastic of his underwear, following the curve of his waistline from hip to hip, and then back to center. I undid the button of his jeans, drew the zipper down. He wasn't breathing now, holding the breath he'd taken, his hands bunching the cotton of my shirt in tight fists. I ran my hands between his jeans and boxers, caressing his tight ass and pushing the denim down in the same motion. He was wearing skin-hugging gray boxer-briefs; he was hard for me, and he was huge. A dot of moisture darkened the stretchy fabric where the tip of him touched it, leaking.

  I swallowed hard, able to see every glorious inch of him outlined by the gray material, and I wanted it all. I reached for the elastic band, but he pinioned my wrist in his massive hand. With the other hand, he deftly unbuttoned the last three buttons of my shirt. He let go of my wrist, brought both of his palms to my face and slowly closed the distance between us, pressed his hungry lips to mine, kissed me till I swooned. His palms slid down the arch of my neck, over my shoulders, brushing the shirt away. I straightened my arms and let it fall free.

  I was naked before him.

  He continued to kiss me while his hands explored me, searching my curves in earnest. Sliding down my arms, around my neck and down my spine, following the curve of my ass, the backs of my thighs and around to my quads, squeezing gently the generous flesh and muscle there, and up, tracing in a teasing, tantalizing slide up the crease of my pussy, making my knees quake.

  My own hands were not idle; I dragged my finger down his straining length, over the stretched cotton, and then was unable to pretend any longer and impatiently drew his underwear down, down, and he stepped out of them, and we were both bare for each other. I took his lower lip in my teeth and grasped his thick cock in my fist, eating his groan with my kiss and sliding my palm down his length.

  "I wasn't thinking about...this...when I knocked on your door," Cade murmured, "so I'm not...I don't have anything. Protection, I mean."

  I squeezed gently, caressed his hardness, learning the length of him, the girth of him, the way he lay straight up against his belly and the bulbous mushroom head, springy under my touch. "It's fine," I said, "I've got an IUD."

  "Thank god," he said.

  He bent and kissed the side of my neck, and I leaned back against the door, displayed my throat for him. His mouth descended, and I held onto the base of him, just holding him, waiting and desperate to see how he'd touch me, what pleasure he would give me, what bliss he would infuse into my eager body. His mouth followed my flesh to my nipple, brought it to diamond hardness with a single kiss, tongued it, nibbled it, and I moaned at each wet touch of his mouth. One hand on his cock, I wrapped the other around his neck and held him against me, arched my back to get more of his mouth on the flesh of my breasts.

  "Your tits taste so good," Cade mumbled. "So good. They're perfect tits, Ever. Just perfect."

  "I love your cock," I said, breathless. "It's so big, so hard."

  "I want to hear you come." He slid a hand between my thighs, and I spread my legs to allow him room. "Can you moan for me? Say my name when you come, Ever."

  "I love the way you say my name." I slid my fist up and down his length as slowly as I could, savoring the size and silky perfection of him in my hands. This was Caden, my Caden, real, here, in my house, his cock in my hand and his fingers delving into my folds. "Yes, Caden. Yes. Touch me there. I'll come for you."

  I'd never spoken this way before. Not ever. No matter how good it was, I never spoke this way, and it had never, ever been this good. This wasn't even sex yet, this was foreplay, and my life was changed, my notion of pleasure altered, my idea of passion shattered and remade.

  I moaned loud when his finger slid into the tight wet space of my pussy, and louder yet when he curled his finger and found the perfect spot and caressed me there, so gently, so slowly, as if he knew exactly how to touch me, how to make me come. He knew my body, knew it as if he'd always made love to me.

  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 y
our 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.<
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  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.