Page 432 of End Game

I make a broken sound around the gag.

He freezes.

“Color?”

Click.

One.

“Good.”

More.

Slow.

My body adjusts.

Thoughts try to rise.

But they can't get traction.

There isn't enough space.

Ronan fills too much of it.

His hand on my hip.

His other hand on my stomach.

Voice soothing me.

“You don't have to do anything.”

I breathe.

“Nothing to solve.”

My eyes sting behind the blindfold.

I don't know why.

“Just take me like the good boy you are.”

Fuck.

He moves.

Every nerve lights.

Then settles.

Then lights again.

Not frantic.

Not rough.

Controlled enough that my body stops bracing for what comes next.