Page 121 of The Mourning Throne
Morgan didn’t know the word for what curled in his gut—pride wasn’t quite right. It was too small. Too neat.
This was heavier. Fierce. Something protective and possessive threaded through with relief.
He let that feeling anchor him as he brushed a thumb over the back of Lex’s hand.
“Will you be alright if I go back to the car to grab something? Then we can get started.”
“Yeah. I guess.” Lex looked up. “What—”
Morgan pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t spoil the surprise,” he whispered as he stood. “Let me do what I do best.”
“Doing what you do best is… really scary, Morgan,” Lex said as Morgan slid back into the chair.
“I realized the same thing as I was coming up the stairs. That’s not what I meant.”
“Explain.”
Morgan reached beneath the table. Not under Lex’s pants. Not yet. Just one firm hand pressing to the inside of his thigh, thumb brushing slow circles through the fabric. Spreading his legs open with calm insistence, like it was owed.
Lex swallowed hard. He didn’t stop him.
Slipping the small device from his pocket, Morgan adjusted it in his palm. Matte black. No wires. Just silent efficiency, designed for control.
He turned it on.
Lex jolted. A soft, startled sound caught in his throat. The muscle in his thigh tensed under Morgan’s hand.
“You wanted to forget,” Morgan said quietly. “So forget.”
There was no malice in it. No raised voice.
Lex functioned better when someone forced him to stop. It was really that simple.
He pressed the bullet vibrator higher between Lex’s legs, shifting the angle until he found the already hard cock. Gentle. Impeccably slow. Letting the sensation settle. Letting Lex adjust to the feeling.
This was how Lex reset. Not through talking. Not through comfort. Through sensation so sharp it cut through the static in his head.
And Morgan would always be the one to deliver it. Always the one to hold him together while taking him apart.
Lex’s eyes fluttered closed. His shoulders rose and fell with tight control, and then—
There it was.
That quiet, invisible shift. The second everything went soft inside him. Like a dam breaking without sound.
The split-second surrender.
Morgan leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Lex’s ear. His voice barely carried.
“What are you thinking about now?”
Lex turned his head toward him, forehead resting against Morgan’s mouth. A grounding gesture, unconscious.
“Shut. Up,” Lex gritted out, voice strained but familiar.
There we go.
Morgan couldn’t help but smile.
