Page 105 of The Mourning Throne
“You’re mine,” he whispered, quieter now. “Don’t ever forget that. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Lex didn’t answer, but damn if that didn’t make him smile.
The bathwater cooled around them, steam fading from the mirror, from the air, from Lex’s skin.
Morgan didn’t move right away. He just held him. Not tight. Not loose. Justright—the way you might hold something broken that you weren’t quite finished putting back together.
Lex shivered. Not from the temperature.
From the absence of sensation.
The absence of Morganinsidehim.
His body buzzed, numb and sore and stretched, but none of that mattered. Not really. Not when he could feel Morgan’s breath against the back of his neck. Not when every shift, every brush of cotton against skin, reminded him:Morgan is here. Morgan is real. I’m not alone.
“Let’s go to bed,” Morgan murmured, voice low and flat.
But Lex felt it anyway.
The warmth beneath the surface. The deliberate softness. Morgan’s version of gentle.
Lex didn’t respond. Couldn’t.
He wanted to saythank you. Ordon’t stop touching me. OrI’m alright now.
But his mouth wouldn’t work. His limbs wouldn’t work.
Morgan shifted behind him, the sound of water and Morgan’s belt buckle too damn loud in the quiet. Then hands slipped beneath Lex’s knees and back, lifted him up.
Lex didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just curled closer, his cheek pressed against Morgan’s chest like it belonged there.
He could hear Morgan’s heartbeat.
It didn’t race.
It never did.
Maybe that was why it calmed him.
Morgan carried him through the suite—wet slap of footsteps on tile, and then the dull, sucking drag of feet on carpet. The bed was already turned down—of course it was. Morgan would’ve done it before the bath.
Morgan planned for everything.
The sheets were cold as shit when Lex was lowered into them, but his entire body had already surrendered.
Morgan tucked him in, pulled the sheets up to his chin. One hand lingered against Lex’s jaw, thumb brushing the hollow of his cheek.
“Stay down,” Morgan murmured. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Lex’s fingers twitched. They curled in the blanket like they might follow.
But he stayed.
Morgan came back, naked as the day he was born, with a towel and a glass of water. He didn’t ask Lex to sit up. He didn’t demand anything.
He just climbed in behind him, pulled Lex into his chest, and pressed the glass to his lips when Lex didn’t move fast enough to drink on his own.
Lex sipped. Slowly.
