Page 630 of End Game

The tension leaving his jaw.

His chest rising against mine.

Something swells behind my ribs so suddenly it almost hurts.

Not grief.

Not exactly happiness either.

Love, probably.

The inconvenient bastard has a habit of showing up when I'm least prepared for it.

Ronan opens his eyes.

“There you are,” I whisper.

His expression immediately becomes offended.

I laugh.

The movement sends another ache through the marks on my ass.

I wince and laugh harder.

Ronan reaches up, catches the back of my neck, and pulls me into a kiss before either of us can say anything else.

It is long.

Soft.

Messy around the edges.

By the time we separate, his breathing is calmer, and my erection has eased enough that my brain works again.

Mostly.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Anything hurt?”

“No.”

“Anything feel wrong?”

His mouth curves.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

I stare at him.

“Wonder where I learned that.”

“Someone competent, presumably.”

“Arrogant.”