Page 81 of Every Shattered Note
She lets out a breathless laugh that shatters something in my chest.“Good.Do it.”
I move faster, losing whatever was left of my restraint.
She meets every thrust with this wild, aching need.Like she wants every last inch of me—body, soul, scars and all—and I give it.Everything I’ve got.Everything I didn’t know I’d been holding back.
She clutches me like I’m hers.Like she knows.
The heat between us builds, deeper and hotter, until it’s all I can feel.Until it’s all I am.
This moment ...it’s not just lust.
It’s connection.It’s communion.
It’s two broken pieces finally clicking into place.
It’s everything.
It’s us—even if I don’t know what “us” means yet.Even if I’m still terrified of what happens after.
But maybe this—her—is what happiness feels like.
Maybe she’s the closest I’ll ever get to forever.
We don’t stop.
We don’t speak.
We just feel—the rhythm, the breath, the pulse of something larger than both of us carrying us higher.
I reach for her hand, lace our fingers, draw her closer until I can whisper against her ear, “Stay with me.Right here.”
She nods, trembling, already so close I can feel her unraveling around me.But I want her to fall with me.
My hand slips between us, finding her clit, and I touch her the way I know she needs—slow at first, then just right, just enough.
Her gasp catches in her throat.Her body tightens.
“Come with me,” I breathe, voice breaking.“Please.”
And then she does.
Her body arches against mine, her voice catching somewhere between a cry and a prayer.
Watching her fall apart unravels every wall I’ve built.The sight of her like this—free, trusting—splinters something I thought was unbreakable.
I follow her over the edge, the world collapsing into color and sound.My back tightens, breath hitching as the release hits, but it isn’t just pleasure—it’s surrender.
It’s relief.
It’s finding light after years of standing in the dark.
When it fades, I don’t move.
I can’t.
I hold her like she’s the only real thing left.
Like if I loosen my grip even an inch, I’ll lose the miracle of this—of us.
