Page 629 of End Game

Every time my hips roll forward, something in Ronan's expression strips back another layer of composure. His hand works himself in rhythm with me, controlling the exact pressure and speed he wants while I give him the one thing he handed over.

Penetration.

That is all.

And somehow it feels like everything.

His eyes stay on mine.

So I keep mine open too.

There is nowhere for either of us to hide.

I watch pleasure gather in his face until his jaw tightens and his strokes become less measured.

“Close?” I ask.

“Yes.”

My own release is building low in my body, but I don't chase it. I don't change anything.

Ronan gave me the rhythm.

I keep it.

His hand speeds up.

A shudder moves through him beneath me, starting in his thighs under my palms and climbing through his stomach.

I feel him tighten around me.

The stimulation punches a groan out of my chest.

Ronan's eyes close.

Then open again.

He looks at me.

Right at me.

His orgasm hits with a broken sound I have never heard from him before.

Quiet.

Rough.

Uncontrolled enough that my entire body reacts to it.

His hand keeps moving while he comes over his stomach, hips shifting beneath me just enough to change the pressure inside him.

Fuck.

I come almost right after him.

Ronan breathes hard beneath me, eyes closed now, one hand still wrapped loosely around himself.

I watch his face settle.