Page 205 of You've Got Hate Mail
The best heart.
The best everything.
I moan as everything shatters inside of me.
He lifts my leg, then my ass, and then he’s sliding into me as I’m coming.
“God, you feel so good,” he gasps.
“You—better.” My inner walls clench around his thick length, the intrusion taking my climax higher and tighter and stronger.
Are there stars on the ceiling of his shower, or is that just what he does to me?
“Can’t get enough,” he groans into my shoulder.
“Never.”
I’m still coming as he thrusts inside me, slowly at first, then faster and faster, extending my orgasm as he hits that sweet, sweet spot deep inside me, until my legs go straight and my feet curl and the most powerful force I’ve ever felt inside me bursts free.
I’m not broken.
Not a disaster.
Not chaos.
I’m free.
Free, and loved, and worthy.
And not afraid of showers anymore.
Heath groans into my neck, and his erection pulses inside me as he stills, pressing me harder into the wall, holding me up with his solid body.
“Fuck yes, Cricket,” he groans.
“I love you,” I gasp.
I can’t help it.
I do this every time.
“Love you,” he pants back. “Love you so much.”
Tears soak my eyes, and a lump clogs my throat, and I cling to him like I can’t let go.
Like if I let go, it’s not real.
That once I let go, he didn’t say it back.
He won’t have meant it.
Except—except he’s sagging against me, holding me tight, and whispering it again.
“I love you, Cricket.”
I bury my face in his neck and let my eyes leak while steam and hot water stream all around us. “Heath. I love you so much.”
He squeezes my ass cheeks. “You brought me back to life. Showed me how much there is to love about it again.”
