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We were beautiful.

A beautiful, forsaken mess.

“Please,” I keened.

The barest smirk tilted his lips as he felt me vibrating beneath him, needy, desperate for that pinnacle. Reaching under me, he held me up by the ass and angled his cock higher and deeper, his movements picking up speed.

My eyes shot open as another orgasm slammed into me with lightning force, without warning, and his tongue plunged into my mouth, stifling my cry.

I held him, gripped him, cherished him as I blissfully unraveled, with galaxies in my eyes and stardust in my lungs.

“That’s it,” he breathed against my open mouth. “That’s it, Halley.”

Falling back onto me, Reed cupped a hand over the top of my head to anchor himself as he buried his face in my hair and his body took over.

He rutted into me hard, each thrust more graceless than the last as he teased the edge of release. “Ah…fuck.” He tensed, shuddering violently through a hoarse moan as his neck arched back, spurts of hot cum pulsing through his cock and spilling inside me. Pleasure twisted his face and unlocked his jaw as he groaned through his climax.

All I could do was hold on to him as we came back down, my fingers sliding through his slick hair, my cheek pressed to his when he collapsed.

It was over.

I didn’t want it to be over.

Everything had happened so fast. Ended even faster.

Drops of sweat rolled down his temples and neck as he deflated on top of me, still sheathed inside and twitching through the final shockwaves. Both of us were panting, our choppy breaths the only soundtrack to my whirlwind thoughts.

We had sex.

In his apartment.

On his training mat.

Emotion bubbled to the surface as we lay there in silence, entwined and wholly bare. The scent of sex, sweat, and synthetic rubber wafted around me, and a lone light flickered above us, a dull spotlight illuminating our crime.

I was sticky, satisfied…and sad.

Refusing to be the girl who blubbered after mind-blowing sex, I forced back a rush of tears and turned my head to the side, away from him.

But he reached for me, covered my cheek with his hand and forced our eyes to meet. A rough thumb grazed my cheekbone, his gaze shimmering with tenderness.

With apology.

“Reed.” My eyes pooled with unwanted tears as I inhaled a ragged breath. “Tell me this changes things.”

I had to know.

I had to know there was hope for us. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment mistake, a weak blip, or a lapse in judgment. There was something here. Something powerful.

A life worth living.

And yet, I already knew what he was going to say.

I’m sorry.

We shouldn’t have done this.

Nothing changes.