Page 785 of End Game

He waits.

“Green.”

He nods and moves on.

The second wrist changes things more than the first.

One hand unavailable is inconvenient.

Both hands unavailable removes an entire category of instinct.

I can't reach for Cami.

Can't grab her hips.

Can't automatically adjust her position if she slips.

Can't put an arm between her and anything.

For about half a second, my chest tightens.

Then Cami climbs onto the table.

There she is.

Her knees settle on either side of my hips, hair hanging around her face, rope marks still faintly visible along her skin.

She puts both hands on my chest.

Warm.

Solid.

Mine to feel, even if I can't reach back yet.

“Hey.”

I look at her. “You okay?”

I take a slow breath.

Nothing in me is screaming to stop.

Nothing even wants to.

“Yeah.”

Her thumb strokes once over my sternum.

Then she rises enough to line me up and sinks onto my cock.

Every thought I had disappears.

“Fuck.”

The ring catches against her on the way down, and Cami's eyes close for a second.

My hands flex uselessly.