Page 427 of End Game

Heat.

Then he stops.

Nothing.

My brain reaches.

Finds nothing to grab.

“Stay still.”

I somehow make my body stop.

“Good brat.”

Warmth spreads through me.

He keeps slowly moving the sleeve up and down my dick, but his other hand moves.

His fingers drag lightly over my thigh.

Chest.

He spends time on my nipples.

Then his fingers go back down.

No pattern I can learn.

No sequence.

No next thing.

Just now.

Now.

Now.

The gag stops feeling strange.

Drool doesn't matter.

My wrists stop testing the cuffs.

My ankle doesn't twitch.

I stop trying to figure out where Ronan is before he touches me because he always gives me enough warning to know.

Hand.

Voice.

Breath.

“Good boy.”

My thoughts slow.