Page 123 of What We Break
"God, Laine," he breathes. "You feel... Jesus, you feel perfect."
The way he says it — like he's surprised, like he didn't expect this to wreck him — makes me clench around him. And the terrifying thing is I've never felt this close to someone. Not just the obvious, physical part. The other thing. The thing where every single wall I spent years building is just... gone. Dissolved. Like they were made of wet paper and I was kidding myself the whole time.
That should scare me. Probably will scare me later, when I'm alone and my brain decides to punish me for it. Right now I don't care.
"Move," I whisper. "Please move."
Reid starts slow, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, and my eyes roll back before I can stop them.
"Like that?" he asks, doing it again.
He's watching my face so carefully and I don't know what he's looking for. Reassurance? I've got nothing. No words can be formed. My brain is just white noise and the weight of him and the way his eyes won't leave mine.
We find our rhythm slowly, learning each other, and Reid keeps talking to me the whole time.
"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs against my ear. "So perfect. I love the way you feel around me. I love the sounds you make."
And who even does that? Who just says things like that out loud, like it's easy, like the words aren't grenades? I've never been with someone who talked during sex. Every guy before this was basically a silent film with worse lighting. But Reid is telling me exactly what he's feeling, what he wants, and it's wrecking me. Every sentence lands somewhere new. Makes it impossible to float away to that safe little ceiling-staring place in my head, because he's right here. Completely here. Not lost in his own thing, not performing, just — with me.
So of course I'm falling apart.
"Faster," I breathe, and Reid responds immediately, his hips snapping against mine.
"Is this what you want?" he asks, his voice strained. "Tell me what you need."
He keeps asking. Keeps checking in. Even now, when we're both barely hanging on, he wants to make sure I'm okay. That I'm getting what I need. Seriously, best guy ever.
"More. I need more of you."
Reid shifts the angle, just slightly, and suddenly he hits that spot and my whole brain whites out.
"There?" He caught it immediately. The second my breath changed, he locked in. The fact that he's paying that much attention, that he cares that much about what this feels like for me — heat floods through me so fast I can't think straight. "Right there?"
"Yes, god, yes. Don't stop."
"I won't stop." His voice is rough, almost fierce. "I'll never stop. I could do this forever, Laine. I could stay inside you forever."
"What a way to go," I mumble, making him laugh. And seriously, that feels even more incredible.
I'm so close. So impossibly close.
"I'm about to come," I warn him.
"Thank god," Reid breathes. "I don't know how much longer I can hold on. You're driving me out of my mind."
He keeps hitting that perfect spot, and I swear my entire body is just a live wire at this point, every single nerve lit up and climbing. Then Reid reaches between us, touches me right where we're joined, and I'm done. Gone. Completely shattered.
"Reid!" My back arches off the bed like I have zero say in the matter.
"That's it," he says, and his voice is wrecked, absolutely wrecked. "God, Laine, you're so beautiful when you come."
Which is a very generous thing to say to someone who probably looks like she's been electrocuted, but I can't form a rebuttal because watching me fall apart apparently does it for him too. He buries his face in my neck and follows me over with this broken sound that might be my name, might be a prayer, might be both.
We just lie there after. Both breathing like we sprinted a mile. Reid's full weight is pressing me into the mattress and I should probably want him to move, but I don't. Not even a little.
"Wow," I say, when my mouth finally remembers how words work.
Reid lifts his head and grins at me, his hair going in about nine different directions. "Just wow?"
