Free Saving Forever (The Ever Trilogy: Book 3) by Jasinda Wilder Page A

cleavage. “You’re perfect, Ev. You’re everything.”
    I stared down at him, my fingers in his hair. “Then show me that.” I pulled his face to my breasts, and his mouth met the hot flesh and his tongue licked out, laved the pale round expanse of my right breast, just beneath my nipple.
    But I was watching him, and I saw the pain on his face, the inexplicable guilt and sorrow in his expression. I clamped my eyes shut and pushed away the wonder and the fear and the curiosity and the need to know what was causing that in him. I shut down my thoughts and focused on simply feeling. Focused on his touch, his mouth that was finally, thankyougodfinally taking my erect nipple into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, focused on his hands that were clutching my hips and curling around to cup my ass.
    If I thought too much, I would ask, and he would admit, and everything would be ruined. And I needed this first. I couldn’t face the truth without feeling this at least once. It felt like I was stealing something from him. Dragging it out of him.  
    I was a fool, and I knew it.
    Yet I didn’t stop him, only encouraged him with little moans as his tongue darted out to flick my left nipple and his lips wrapped around my breast and his hands carved and possessed and roamed.  
    He groaned, and my nipple left his mouth with a pop , and he fell back against the couch, chest heaving. “Jesus, Ev.”
    I wasn’t sure what the epithet meant, and I didn’t care. I took his hands in mine and tugged at him. He stood up, looked down at me. “Say my name, Cade.”
    “Ever.”
    I slid my hands up underneath his thin white V-neck, pushed it off, and tossed it aside. Touched his chest, his abs. His shoulders. Found the button of his jeans, ripped it open, found the zipper tab and drew it down. Felt the springy hardness sheathed in black cotton boxer-briefs. His hands rested on the bell of my hips, and as I let his jeans drop, his fingers tightened. My eyes were locked on his, watching every shift in expression. I curled my fingers in the elastic waistband, paused, watching him, and then pulled the band away from his body and lowered the underwear past his erection. The boxers fell to the floor, and he was naked with me. His hands shook and his eyes hunted mine, moving back and forth, and his expression was unknowable, rife with a myriad of emotions.  
    Thank god, the most prevalent emotion was desire. He wanted me. But he was holding back, and I didn’t dare examine why.
    I lifted my chin, and he leaned down to kiss me. As it had been so often lately, the kiss was slow and gentle. Not what I wanted. I went up onto my toes and crushed my mouth against his, letting my sexual hunger have free rein. I put one hand to his face, holding his face to mine. My hand went between our bodies, my fingers wrapping around his erection. I just touched him at first. Felt the thick hot hardness in my hand, huge and straight, standing against his belly. A single slide down his length, and he groaned.
    “Ever…”
    “Cade.” I pulled back and met his gaze.
    “You don’t know how good your hand feels on me.”
    “I belong to you, Cade.” I whispered it against his chin. “I’m yours. Take all of me.” Up, and back down his cock, sliding and slipping, reveling in the softness and the hardness and the heat of him.
    He bent and kissed my throat, the hollow at the base, just above my breastbone. Between my tits. Knelt. His hands skated down the backs of my thighs, and I began to tremble in anticipation. I let my head fall back as his mouth found my hipbone, the dip where hip met thigh. The bare skin of my pubis. His hands clutched the back of my knees, and his lips kissed across my body, to the opposite hipbone. His hands tugged gently at my legs, and I slid my feet apart willingly.  
    This. Yes, please. This.
    He breathed on my sensitive flesh, and I shook all over. Gasped. Threaded my hands in his hair and pulled his mouth to me.