Page 95 of One Adult, Please

"Beck, I'm close. I'm so close. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

"I won't. Use me, Grace. I'm yours."

The orgasm hits me and there's nothing but sensation, my back arching, my head falling back as a cry tears out of my throat that I don't recognize, that I've never made before, that sounds like surrender and victory all at once. I'm shaking, trembling in his arms, and he's still moving, still thrusting, drawing it out, making it last. Every movement sends fresh sparks through my oversensitive nerves.

"Fuck," I hear myself say. "Fuck, Beck, fuck."

He groans. His rhythm breaks. I feel him twitch inside me, feel the way his whole body tenses and then goes slack beneath me.

We stay like that. Tangled. His face buried in my neck, my fingers in his hair, both of us trembling with aftershocks.

When our breathing settles, Beck holds the condom at the base and helps me lift off him. He ties it off and drops it into the wastebasket beside the desk. Then he pulls me back onto his lap.

"I think I forgot my own name." His voice is muffled against my skin.

"Beck."

"What?"

"Your name is Beck. I remembered it for you. You're welcome."

He laughs, and I feel it everywhere, in his chest pressed against mine, in the way he's still half-hard against my thigh, in the rumble of it against my throat.

"I love your voice," he says. "I love that you talk through everything. I love that you made jokes while I was inside you. I love that you're you and you're here and you're mine."

"Mine," I repeat. "I like being yours."

"I like you being mine."

His arms tighten around me. I rest my forehead against his.

"Beck," I say eventually, because the silence is getting long. "My left thigh is doing a spasm thing. It's very distracting from the otherwise perfect moment we just had."

"Can you move?"

"I can try. I'm going to try."

I try to climb off his lap. My left thigh disagrees. It seizes up and I pitch sideways. Beck catches me. We end up in a pile on the bench with my legs tangled in his and my cramp announcing itself with renewed enthusiasm.

"Ow. Ow ow ow. Okay. So. That's happening."

"Here." Beck's hands find my thigh. He massages, working the cramping muscle until it releases. "Better?"

"Better. Thank you. Sorry I ruined the afterglow with a charley horse."

"You didn't ruin anything."

"I literally cramped and fell on you."

"Yeah." He's smiling. The one that transforms his whole face into something softer. "That's the most Grace thing that's ever happened. I'd be worried if you didn't fall."

"That's weirdly romantic."

"I'm weirdly romantic. You named my armor and my home. You're stuck with me now."

I curl into him, my head finding the hollow of his shoulder. "That was…"

"Yeah."