Page 48 of The Mourning Throne
Take a break already.
Lex sat up straighter. “No, but—you saw him, right? That wasnothing. He looked like a wet sock with trauma.”
“Lex.”
“I’m serious. I could’ve made it better. If you just—if you back the hell off,I know I could—”
Morgan tapped the enter key. Hard. “Keeping something is more complicated than killing someone. There’s additional steps involved. He needs to know there are rules, and that rules have consequences. If you don’t establish a line of dominance from the start, things are more likely to get out of hand later down the road.”
Rolling his eyes, Lex sagged into the pillows. “But didn’t you say, and I quote,rules bore me to tears?”
Morgan finally glanced over.
“Why do you think the only person I own is you, Lex?”
That was enough to piss him off.
Lex scoffed, propping himself up on an elbow. “I’mdoing the next game. Not you.”
Morgan didn’t reply. Just reached out and closed the laptop.
Lex watched Morgan—Morgan watchinghim—chest still half-buzzing with leftover adrenaline and caffeine and frustration. He wasn’t done. Not really. He wanted to keep going—wanted to poke and prod and push until Morgan cracked the way he was supposed to.
“You’re not even gonnasayanything?” Lex snapped, sitting up again. “Gonna pretend that wasn’t a complete waste of time? Like you didn’tseehow fast he gave in? Who fucking folds after thirty minutes and abra?”
Morgan moved the laptop to the side and leaned back against the headboard. He opened one arm and waited.
“I’m not a goddamn kid,” Lex mumbled after a moment.
But he couldn’t resist. Never could.
Lex shimmied down the pillows, twisting until his cheek was pressed to Morgan’s shoulder, the warmth of it sinking into him like a drug.
He kept talking.
“He’s not even the rightkindof scared. He rolls over and plays dead. Like some fucking opossum.That’swhat I picked out.”
Morgan’s hand landed on the back of his head. No pressure. Just contact.
Lex exhaled, jaw tight. “That was… it wasboring, Morgan. I hated it.”
Morgan’s thumb moved. Barely. Just enough to stroke along the edge of Lex’s temple, smoothing back a piece of damp hair.
“I mean it,” Lex continued, even though sleep was clawing at his eyes. “I want to do the next one.All of it. The entire Simon Says. You can’t interrupt.”
Morgan didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
Because his hand never left. Because Lex was already curling tighter into him, swallowing a yawn he didn’t want to admit was there.
Breaking Ollie was fun. A thrill. A fix.
But this—right here, right now—was something else entirely.
This washappiness.
And Lex would take it any way he could get it.
