Page 107 of The Mourning Throne
Morgan was probably in the kitchen. Logically, in the kitchen.
“Are you—” Morgan started, and Lex cut him off.
“Did I get a package?”
If Morgan was going to ask if he was alright, Lex would immediately stopbeingalright. That’s just how shit worked. He needed a distraction.
It was a new day.
And a new day meant new, fun ways to play with Ollie.
Lex took his time redressing Ollie.
Not because heneededto. Because he wanted to.
Because he liked doing it.
The new set was lavender. Soft mesh and satin ribbons, delicate embroidery along the trim, chosen with care from the box he dumped on the bed. Lex could’ve picked the red, the black, the white lace that looked like it had been made to rip.
But no. Lavender.
There was something sweeter about it. Something that just read asOllie.
Same day delivery? Fucking genius. Whoever had figured it out deserved a Nobel peace prize.
Or at least an award.
Ollie stepped into the panties without protest. Let Lex guide his hips as he tugged them into place. Lex smoothed the lace across Ollie’s skin with both hands, adjusting the straps on the bralette. He fixed the garters, fastened each one, and tied the ribbons at Ollie’s back like he was wrapping a present just for himself.
“You’re getting better at this,” Lex murmured, smoothing a wrinkle so it laid flat. “I like when you’re good.”
And Ollie—sweet, compliant little shit—kept his eyes on him. Like he was waiting for approval. For permission to breathe.
That did something to Lex’s chest. Twisted it up in a way he liked. Like a pressure valve slowly opening. He liked that Ollie didn’t ask questions. Liked the way his eyes always went to Lex for answers.
Ollie didn’t look for Morgan.
Lex was the only damn one who mattered in the whole room.
That had to mean something.
He guided Ollie to the center of the suite, hands on the back of his shoulders. “Why don’t we—”
Morgan’s drink hit the wet bar. “No.”
The fuck you mean no?
Morgan wasn’t even part of the conversation. Not where Ollie was concerned.He’d made it clear that just—he didn’tlikeOllie. For whatever reason.
But, of course, it was Morgan.
Barge in. Take over like it wasowedto him, for god’s sake.
Lex’s fingers twitched. “I don’t think that’sup to you,Morgan.”
Morgan didn’t look at him. “You’re not leading this one. Or any of the next ones.”
He should’ve laughed. Should’ve said,come on, don’t be dramatic.But Lex didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Just stood there like something had cracked down the middle of him.
