Page 118 of Reeves

"Tell me to stop if you want me to."

He pulls back just enough to speak, his breathing already ragged.

"No. Don't stop."

That breaks something in him. His control snaps, and suddenly we're moving with frantic urgency. His hands slide under my oversized t-shirt, finding bare skin, and I arch into his touch. When his thumb brushes over my nipple, I gasp against his mouth.

My cotton pajama shorts have become a barrier I need gone. I help him push them down my legs along with my panties, kicking them off onto the floor. He sheds his boxers just as quickly.

When he presses between my thighs, I spread my legs wider, needing him closer. His cock presses against my entrance.

"You're so wet for me. You feel so good."

"I want you, Reeves."

"Do you want me to get a condom?"

"The pill. Fuck me."

That's all he needs to hear. He pushes into me in one smooth thrust, filling me with his wide cock. I cry out softly, overwhelmed by how perfectly he fits, how familiar this feels even after all these years.

"Fuck, Charli."

He starts moving, his rhythm fast and demanding. I match him thrust for thrust, my nails digging into his shoulders. The couch creaks beneath us, but I don't care about the noise.

"More," I whisper against his neck. "I want more."

He knows exactly what I need. His hand slides between our bodies, finding my clit with practiced ease. The pressure is perfect, and I arch beneath him as pleasure builds rapidly.

He rocks harder, deeper, his cock hitting that spot that makes me see stars. Everything else disappears. Gone are the complications, the hurt, the years between us. There's only this, only us, only the desperate need we have for each other.

When it hits, it’s not clean or controlled. It takes me all the way under, pulling something loose at the same time it burns through my body. I don’t think, don’t try to hold anything back. I just let it happen.

He follows right behind me, his body tightening against mine, a low sound leaving him that I feel more than hear. For a second, everything goes still except for the echo of it.

Then the room comes back in pieces.

My breath is uneven. My skin is overly sensitive, like every place he touched is still lit up. I don’t move right away. I’m not sure I could if I tried, because my arms and legs are jelly.

His arm tightens around me, not letting me pull away even if I wanted to. His chest rises hard against my back, his breathing just as rough as mine.

“Charli.”

My name sounds different when he says it now. Lower. Closer.

I close my eyes for a second, letting that settle. Letting the weight of him, the warmth of him, the reality of what just happened press in.

For a few seconds, there’s nothing but that.

My fingers curl lightly against his arm, where it’s wrapped around me. I don’t think about any of it. I just let myself be.

I run my fingers lightly over his right shoulder, tracing the spot I noticed earlier. The muscle is tight beneath my touch. There’s a pull in me to press there, to work it loose the way I would with anyone else. But it's not my place.

I should say something. But I don’t, because I don’t know what to say. And I’m not ready for whatever comes after I do.

I close my eyes and curl into him. Relief moves through me first. A quiet, almost disorienting release after holding so much tension in my body for days. Years.

Then something softer slips in behind it. Not quite happiness. Not something I can name without overthinking it.