“Shut the fuck up, A,” Lake said, pounding her. Avery’s voice, her moaning was like soul-stirring music. It felt like the base of the organ playing during a funeral that made your chest feel the loss of death that occurred. Lake’s chest, the organ inside, was pounding to the music escaping her lips. Instead of the feeling of losing something, Lake felt he was gaining everything. He felt better the more she allowed him to have her.
