Page 61 of The Mourning Throne
Morgan moved one hand up, wrapping it around Lex’s throat. He squeezed. Just a little. Just an anchor. Enough to remind.
“You can do it for me. Show me you have a little more left, Lex. Keep going.”
Lex keened. The sound cracked apart midway. Desperate. Beautiful. Broken.
“Last time,” Morgan whispered, “you didn’t deserve this. But you’ve been such a spoiled little brat this week, haven’t you? All of your snapping and demanding.”
He gripped the vibrator tight, forcing the tip of Lex’s cock against the pulsing head of the toy.
“So here’syourprize, my sweet. So you remember who you belong to when you’re sore tomorrow.”
Lex came one last time—no sound. Just a silent, choking tremble. His whole body crumpled in Morgan’s lap, spent and ruined, like a doll with the stuffing torn out.
Finally, Morgan clicked off the vibrator.
Whether or not Lex was conscious enough to listen…
Debatable.
But, perhaps the lesson would stick all the same.
Somewhere. Deep in the back of Lex’s wild, over-stimulated little brain.
He tucked the vibrator into his jacket pocket, then lifted Lex—one arm under the knees, the other behind his back. Lex’s head lolled forward against his collarbone, breath shallow, lashes sticky with tears. He didn’t speak, didn’t resist. Just whined once when Morgan adjusted his grip.
In the bedroom, Morgan laid him on the sheets and peeled off Lex’s shirt and pants. Lex twitched, shook his head violently, when Morgan touched the waistband, but leaving them on would’ve done more harm than good. Morgan pulled the sheetover Lex and sat on the edge of the bed. He forced the bottle of water into his hand.
“Drink.”
More head shaking. More refusal.
“You’ll dehydrate. Stop fighting me.”
Lex’s fingers barely wrapped around the bottle, but he tried. Morgan helped tilt it to his lips. Half of it dribbled down Lex’s chin. Morgan caught the worst of it with the edge of the sheet.
When he returned to the second room, Ollie hadn’t moved.
Morgan crouched in front Ollie, slowly nudging at the end of the strip so it didn’t catch eyebrows or lashes.
He removed the strip from one eye. Then the other.
Ollie blinked—slow, frantic at first, then faster, as if trying to clear away what he’d just witnessed. But Morgan saw it. That new kind of fear. The kind that lingered.
Morgan smiled.
Lexclaimedhe wanted control. That he wanted to do the next game. But he hadn’t quite earned that yet.
“Thank you for your attention.”
Chapter 11
Even the next morning.
Even after a meeting with Gabriel, where Lex had managed to not fall asleep. Again. Where he’djustmanaged not to be disowned completely.
Lex was—somehow—still complaining.
Still.
