Page 103 of The Mourning Throne
Then he did it again.
Down.
Lex didn’t count this time.
This time, his mind didn’t try to save him.
The heat enveloped him like arms. The ache in his chest disappeared beneath the stillness. He went limp, floating in place, weightless and slow. He wasn’t a person anymore—just a thing suspended in silence.
When Morgan finally pulled him out, Lex collapsed against his chest. Slack. Trembling. But not fighting.
Not anymore.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’tneedto.
God, it felt good. The feeling after waking from a nightmare and realizing you’re safe.
Morgan’s arms wrapped around his waist. “Better.”
Lex couldn’t nod, but something inside himmelted.
He felt himself being shifted—repositioned. He didn’t help. Didn’t resist. Let Morgan tug him back until his spine hit the loose belt buckle, Morgan’s cock pressed between them.
“You’re so stubborn,” Morgan muttered against his damp hair. “I saw this coming from a mile away. You take and take and then break like glass the second someone breathes too hard on you.”
He pushed Lex forward slightly and stroked his cock once—brutal and quick.
“No more thinking. That’s done. All you need todo now is feel.”
Lex whimpered, hips twitching—need rising in his chest, too big for his body. He shifted forward, trying to find more friction, but Morgan didn’t allow it.
“Stop moving.”
A pause.
“Unless you want me to start over.”
Lex froze.
Every nerve was lit up, raw and humming. His cock ached where it brushed against Morgan’s palm. His breath shuddered out of him like it was being exhaled by someone else entirely.
He couldn’t see straight, couldn’t think, couldn’t—
“Tell me what you need,” Morgan murmured, voice low, meant only for him.
Lex’s mouth opened.
No sound came out at first.
Then, soft—hoarse—
“You.”
Morgan didn’t say good boy.
He didn’t need to.
