Page 3 of The Mourning Throne
“That’s better,” Morgan murmured.
Reaching for the mouse with infuriating calm, Morgan opened the email Karen had mentioned. White text on dark mode, everything crisp and professional.
Morgan didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. The remote was in plain sight.
The hum of the vibrator began again—a low, insistent thrum deep inside Lex, stroking through every nerve ending. The sensation pulsed up his spine, clawing down his thighs, his whole body rigid with effort not to grind down, not to cry out.
Morgan’s voice was the only tether to reality. Smooth. Sweet. “No wonder Karen was so insistent about the email. Mr. Huntington is stalling on the merger. He’s worried about the contract fallback clause. Karen thinks he’ll walk if we don’t finally meet in person.”
Lex was dying. Actually dying.
He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, vision tunneling in and out. Morgan’s voice blurred in his ears, but the heat of his breath behind Lex’s ear was clear—too clear.
“I can’t—I can’t focus,” Lex whispered, trembling.
“I know.”
The vibrator ramped up, buzzing so hard it felt like it was ricocheting off his bones. Morgan moved his hips slightly, jostling Lex on his lap, and that alone sent stars across his vision.
“M-Morgan—please—”
“Ask for what you want.”
Lex’s throat was closing up. He couldn’tbreathe. Just one more minute of this and he was going to fall apart completely, pieces scattered across Morgan’s lap.
“Just let me fuckingcomealready,” he gasped.
“Not yet,” Morgan said, almost tender. “You haven’t earned it, sweet thing. You think pretty noises are enough? How often do I reward desperation?”
Clawing at the desk, the slick wood beneath his palms offered no traction, no relief. He bit his lip hard enough to taste copper. The remote clicked again. Off.
Then on. Higher.
“Pick a hotel, Lex,” Morgan mumbled, lips too hot. “We’ll leave tomorrow.”
Lex’s eyes stung. Everything burned. The names blurred into nothing.
Kimpton. Charlotte. Bloomsbury. All just letters now. Vowels swimming across his vision.
“I can’t—I don’t—fuck, Morgan,I don’t care—”
“You have two choices. You pick one, and I take care of you. Or you don’t, and we continue this. Trust me when I tell you, it will start to hurt.”
Lex couldn’t speak.
He couldn’t think.
Morgan’s hand clamped around his mouth and nose, and Lex’s whole body jerked. Panic turned into something heady, overwhelming. The edges of his vision darkened as the vibration inside him escalated again—violent and all-consuming.
All Lex could do was point. Didn’t matter what it was, if it was even at the fucking computer… none of it.
Morgan chuckled softly against his cheek. “Of course you’d choose that one. Armitage it is.”
Then, finally—finally—the vibrator clicked off.
Lex sagged backward, limp in Morgan’s arms, lungs heaving as though he’d run miles. Everything was soaked, his body buzzing, wrung out, on the edge of tears.
Morgan ran a hand through Lex’s hair, down the back of his neck, voice low and deceptively gentle.
