Page 4 of The Mourning Throne
“You’ve been so good for me.”
Lex didn’t even have time to savor it.
Morgan shoved him off his lap and bent him over the desk without warning.
Did he give a shit when Morgan dragged his pants and boxers down hard enough to leave belt marks?
Nope.
Even though he knew that they’d burn like hell when he showeredlater.
The only thing he could do was brace his forearms against the surface. His jaw wouldn’t close. Couldn’t. Didn’t matter. Morgan tugged on the flat base of the vibrator, twisting it to the side.
Please. Please, please, please.
Lex felt his lips moving, but not a damn thing came out of them.
The little package of lube sounded too loud. Crinkly.
And when Morgan pulledoutthe vibrator? All at once?
He damn near passed out.
Breathing was mandatory. Hehadto breathe.
Lex stared at the desk, hands fisting the edge of it, hunting for somethingsolid. Everything in him was invested in just enduring. Not breaking worse. Notbeggingany more than he already had.
The need hadteeth. Sharp, relentless, gnawing through him. He swallowed a whimper.
Morgan ran a finger along Lex’s spine, lingering at the base. Two fingers slipped in too easily—cold as hell and wet—and Lex squeezed his eyes shut.
“You’d do anything to hear me praise you, wouldn’t you?”
Nodding was such a mistake. Lex realized that half a second too late.
Jesus, he didn’t evenmeanto. It justhappened.
But when Morgan’s fingers curled inside of him, all bets Lex had with himself were off.
“Fuck, it feels good,” he mumbled, writhing against Morgan’s hand.
The movement, as little as it was, rubbed his cock against the edge and he didn’twantto stop. Didn’t even matter if he ended up covered in paper cuts. He’d deal with it later. Tomorrow.
All he could do was moan—loud, wrecked, unfiltered.
Morgan’s other hand pressed between his shoulder blades, pinning him down and Lex’s wholespinecurled. His cheek flattened against the desk, the wood cool and smooth against his flushed skin.
He really wasn’t sure what the hell was sweat, or spit, or god knows what else.
“You’re making such a mess,” Morgan said, that damn smile coming through his tone. “My poor desk.”
I’m going to slap him.
The thought came out of nowhere—way too fucking funny—and Lex choked on something that could’ve been a laugh if it didn’t sound so damn muffled and thin.
Later. He’d smack Morgan later.
Everything elsecould happen later.
