Page 58 of End Game

“You know how to do this now,” I tell her, stepping closer. “Your body knows what happens when you stop fighting for control and give it to me.”

Her fingers grip the ties.

“You’ll show me…” I watch her shiver at the words “... again and again.”

I smile because she’s learning faster than I expected.

Or maybe this was already there, and I’m simply giving it language.

Moving closer, I test again, my voice low. “Show me.”

Another shudder.

Fuck.

“You’re going to give me another one before I put my hands on you.”

“Ronan—”

“I know.”

I bring my mouth close to her ear, still denying myself the contact I want almost as badly as she does.

“I know exactly what you’re asking for, what you need.” I can see the tiny hairs at her temple move from my breath. “And I’m still saying no.”

Her frustrated sound almost makes me laugh.

Almost.

Instead, I lower my voice another fraction.

“Listen to me.”

She goes very still—even her breathing slows.

I talk her to the edge again.

Slowly and patiently.

The first climax could have been circumstance. Anticipation. Novelty.

I am almost positive I can do it again, but I want to know.

I remind her of everything I’ve promised. Everything she imagined while she couldn’t see me. I tell her what I see when I look at her now—every tremor, every caught breath, every tiny betrayal of how badly she wants what I’m withholding.

Whenever she starts chasing it, I make her slow down.

“No chasing,” I rasp.

Whenever she thinks she’s losing it, I bring her back.

My voice becomes the only thing in the room.

Then, finally, I give her permission. The words low and right against her skin.

“Show me.”

And she does.