Page 329 of What We Brave
Probably both.
Last week, these same two men were covered in kid vomit at 3 AM. We'd been passing sick children back and forth for hours—Caleb to Reid, June to Blake, Iris to whoever had a free arm. Everyone exhausted. Everyone disgusting. Reid had puke on his shirt and hadn't even noticed. Blake had Iris crying into his neck, snot smeared across his collarbone.
And I remember looking at them and thinking:God, I love them. God, they're still so sexy. What is wrong with me?
Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. This is just what seven years of loving someone looks like. You see them at their worst and you still want them. You see them covered in your children's bodily fluids and you still think about what you want to do to them when the kids are finally asleep.
Blake climbs onto the bed behind me. Still naked, still half-hard. He pulls me back against his chest, spreads my thighs with his knees.
"She's all yours," he says to Reid. "For now."
Reid moves fast. He's between my legs before I can blink, hands sliding up my thighs, mouth following.
"Reid—"
"Shh." He presses a kiss to my inner thigh. "My turn."
His mouth finds my center and I arch into him. Blake's hands come up to cup my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers while Reid licks into me with devastating precision.
Two mouths. Four hands. Seven years of learning exactly what I need.
"She's close," Blake says against my ear. "See how she's shaking?"
Reid hums against me in response, and I gasp.
"That's it, sweetheart." Blake's mouth is hot against my ear. "Let him make you feel good."
Reid slides two fingers inside me and crooks them just right. His tongue circles my clit in tight, relentless patterns.
I break apart.
This orgasm is different from the one in the shower—slower, deeper, rolling through me in waves while Reid works me through it. I'm still shaking when he pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Better than adequate?" he asks.
I can't form words. Just nod.
He grins. Predatory. "Good. Because I'm not done."
He strips off his jeans. His boxers. He's fully hard now, thick and flushed, and when he settles between my thighs I can feel him pressing against my entrance.
"Yes," I manage. "Please."
He pushes in slow. Inch by inch, letting me feel every bit of him while Blake holds me open. When he's fully seated, all three of us groan.
"Missed this," Reid breathes. "Missed you. Both of you."
He starts to move. Long, slow strokes that make me feel every inch. Blake's still behind me, hands on my breasts, mouth on my neck. The two of them working in tandem, like they always do. Like they've always done, from the very beginning.
"Harder," I gasp.
Reid obliges. His pace picks up, hips snapping against mine, and Blake's fingers slide down to circle my clit.
"One more," Blake says. "Give us one more."
"I can't?—"
"You can." Reid's voice is strained. "You always can."
