Page 216 of End Game

Something almost awed.

“Okay.”

His hand keeps moving.

I notice his erection beside my thigh.

Hard.

Untouched.

A strange part of my brain tries to reach for the problem.

“You—”

“No.”

My eyes lift to his.

Ronan shakes his head once. “This isn't your job.”

The words slide straight through me.

He wraps his second hand around himself.

The sight should pull me back up.

Instead it sends me deeper.

Ronan stroking himself while watching me.

Getting off because he's getting me off.

Not asking me to perform.

Not requiring anything.

His eyes stay on my face.

“That's it. Just take it,” he says quietly. “You don't have to do anything.”

Fuck.

My head sinks harder into the pillow.

The next breath comes out shaking.

Ronan's hand still strokes me.

His other keeps moving over himself.

The rhythm isn't exactly matched.

Everything narrows to sensation and his voice.

His thumb circles.

My thighs tighten.