Page 426 of End Game

I hear a few more noises.

And then he starts taking me apart.

Slowly.

First he goes back to where he was.

Stroking me enough to keep me hard without taking me anywhere near a climax.

His fingers gently working me open, but not giving me enough stimulation to climax that way either.

Then he brings toys into the mix.

“This pleasure sleeve is safe with your piercings. I researched it,” he says.

It takes my brain way too long and the feeling of it sliding over my dick for me to realize a pleasure sleeve is Ronan’s fancy way of saying pocket pussy.

And then, of course, he checked for safety.

Ronan probably researched my dick jewelry like a graduate thesis.

Normally that thought would produce at least five jokes.

They barely form.

He still moves slowly.

Sensation rises.

Stops.

Returns.

Slower.

My hips try to follow.

Can't.

At first I make frustrated sounds around the gag.

Ronan ignores them except to ask me for color.

One click.

Green.

Always green.

His voice fills the dark. “Don't chase.”

Then there is some kind of toy he introduces inside me.

He moves slowly, but there is one point of pressure and then another and another. Then his fingers are inside me with the toy.

I breathe as the pleasure builds.

Pressure.