Page 150 of What We Brave
The headboard hits the wall. Again. Again.
"So good." Panting. Barely coherent. "Taking me so—fuck, baby.Fuck."
"Don't stop—please don't—I'm so close?—"
I'm not going to last.
I can feel it building at the base of my spine. That unstoppable pressure. Months of wanting her, needing her, denying myself—all crashing together. I'm about to shatter.
Not yet. Not before her.
I reach between us. Find her clit. Rub in tight, fast circles.
"Come for me." Gritting it through clenched teeth. "Need to feel it, Laine. Need you to?—"
"I'm—oh god—Blake?—"
She comes with a scream.
Her whole body locks up. Inner walls clamping down, rippling, squeezing, pulling me deeper.
I'm done.
The orgasm rips through me like nothing I've ever felt. I burymyself as deep as I can go and come so hard my vision whites out. It goes on forever—pulse after pulse, her name in my mouth, her body holding me through all of it.
When it finally ends, I collapse.
Barely have the presence of mind to roll so I don't crush her. We end up tangled together, her face pressed into my chest, my arms wrapped around her so tight she probably can't breathe.
I don't let go.
Can't.
I'm fucking shaking.
For a long time, the only sound is our breathing. The hammer of my heartbeat. The distant tick of the clock on the wall.
I just had sex with Laine Mitchell.
The woman I've waited for my whole fucking life. The woman I spent months destroying. The woman who somehow, impossibly, just gave herself to me anyway.
Don't fuck this up. Whatever you do. Don't fuck this up.
I press my face into her hair. Breathe her in.
"Okay?" My voice is wrecked. Barely a rasp.
She laughs. Shaky, watery. "Okay? Blake, that was—I don't even?—"
She tips her head back. Looks up at me with those big eyes, still wet with tears.
"I didn't know it could be like that."
Something cracks open in my chest. Right down the center. And for once, I don't try to patch it.
I kiss her forehead. Her cheeks. The tip of her nose. Her lips, soft and sweet.
"Neither did I."
