Page 620 of End Game

“Or more legitimate.”

“I know.”

“And wanting this doesn't make you less dominant.”

“I know, Ronan.”

“Good. My educational responsibilities are complete.”

“For now.” The words leave before I examine them.

Ronan suddenly seems very interested.

My stomach tightens.

He looks at me.

I look at him.

The air feels warmer.

Enough that I notice his mouth.

I've kissed Ronan dozens of times now.

Apparently that does not prevent his mouth from becoming an entirely new object when I'm sitting half naked in a blanket after he just beat me into the deepest subspace I've ever experienced.

I lean in.

He sees it coming.

I give him plenty of time to move.

He doesn't.

Our mouths meet softly.

No command.

No expectation.

Just Ronan's lips opening under mine and the hand at the back of my neck shifting enough to hold me closer.

The first kiss stays gentle.

The second doesn't.

Heat wakes slowly in my body, pushing through exhaustion and the ache under my skin. When I move closer, my thigh drags against the blanket and the bruised skin pulls hard enough to send a sharp pulse straight into my stomach.

I hiss into his mouth.

Ronan pulls back immediately. “Marks?”

“Yeah.”

“Bad?”

“No.”