Page 60 of The Mourning Throne
Take off his what, exactly? Pants, more than likely.
Morgan’s jaw ticked. The thought of someone else seeing Lex naked made the sharper, pointier parts of his soul scrape together. Cold steel dragging across glass.
That wasn’t going to happen.
“Public” sex in their car or in an alley—with the low chance of someone seeing—was one thing.
This was another.
Here, if he looked up, he’d find Ollie’s eyes. Nothing happening in this room would go unseen.
The second pass was when the squirming started. Lex’s hands gripped Morgan’s legs, the sheets, his own thighs. The comforter crinkled, rustling in time with Lex’s frantic breathing.
“Don’t touch,” Morgan murmured, voice low against his ear. “You won’t like what happens if you do.”
Lex whimpered. His head moved back and forth until it found a spot near Morgan’s jaw, burrowed there like he could hide from what was happening. Become that ostrich in the sand for just a moment.
“Don’t like this now,” he breathed out, but his hips betrayed him. They rocked into the vibrations—too clumsy, too eager—sneakers sliding against the carpet.
The toy kept pulsing. Small, torturous tremors, set to the highest setting. Morgan pressed it harder, digging the pressure in until Lex had no choice but to grind against it.
Lex’s thighs trembled. Every breath hitched, shallower and shallower—until one caught hard in his throat.
“Fuck, I—I—”
“And then we keep going.”
“What?”
Morgan had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing.
That almost made up for the recent behavior. That startled sound—equal parts horror and disbelief. Adorable. Completely unguarded.
Butalmostdidn’t count.
Morgan had made a promise. And Lex?
Lex deserved everything coming to him.
Lex came with a strangled moan, curse words and Morgan’s name tangling into something unintelligible, slurred through teeth clenched so hard Morgan was sure they’d crack.
Morgan pressed his lips to that damp forehead, tasting the salt and bitter-sweet flavor of Lex. His mouth lingered there for a beat before he wrapped one leg around Lex’s to cage him still tighter. The vibrator slid down the underside of Lex’s cock, buzzing along the oversensitive length, then dragged back up.
Lex bucked, toes of his sneakers digging into the carpet. Just like Morgan knew he would, he tried to squirm away.
Then came the pleading.
“N-no.Stop.Stop, stop, stop. F-for the love of god. I’m gonnadie.”
Morgan only held him tighter. His free arm curved around Lex’s ribs and pinned him back. Beneath it, Lex’s heart pounded like it wanted out—hard, rapid slams echoing against Morgan’s bones.
“You’re being so dramatic. I promise you’ll live.”
Morgan dragged it out. Again. Again.
The wand circled the head of Lex’s cock, the pulsing rhythm too high, too much. Lex rolled and twitched in Morgan’s lap, gasping out soft sobs between each exhale. His hands were slick with sweat when they found Morgan’s, trembling violently. By the third orgasm, he was completely gone—sobbing now, begging, face blotched and wet, spit trailing down his chin.
“I can’t—Ican’t—please—”
