Page 433 of End Game

Because nothing comes next.

This is it.

This movement.

This breath.

This second.

Ronan.

Again.

My head goes empty.

Actually empty.

Holy shit.

No tabs.

No music.

No words.

No jokes.

Nothing.

Just…

Ronan's hand moving the sleeve over my dick.

Ronan's dick inside me.

Ronan's body.

Pressure.

Heat.

Voice.

“Such a good toy.”

I float.

Not gone.

I know where I am.

Could click if I needed to.

I don't.

My limbs feel far away.

Heavy.