Page 45 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

“More?”

“Pull my pants down,” he whispers harshly. “P-please.”

Finally.

With the handle of the flogger between my teeth, I do as he wishes, exposing his ass and his upper thighs. My gaze zeroes in on his ruddy sack and his swollen cock, smashed against the leather, unable to rise.

I’m sweating through my shirt. I unbutton the top three buttons, but it’s not enough. Taking the whole thing off, I toss it to the floor.

I whip his outer thighs lightly for a long minute, getting him used to the feel of the leather on his bare skin, a hint of the bite it will have if I go harder.

“More or less?”

He lets out a soft whimper. “More?”

“More or less, Christian?”

“Less,” he pants. “Less. Please. Give me a second.”

I run the leather straps along his smooth, golden skin, desperate to watch those luscious cheeks turn bright red.

It takes me a moment to realize it, entranced as I am, but he’s crying. I no longer need to hold his head down because his face is buried in the mat as he quietly sobs.

“More?” I guess.

“Please.”

Aiming straight for the crease between his butt and legs, I strike him as hard as I’ve been craving. I repeat the motion multiple times until a pearl of precum slides down the leather mat. His cock jerks, and mine responds as if they’re connected.

“This will finish you, if you let it,” I tell him, breathless.

He sniffs and nods. I move the flogger in a rhythm, a circle, hitting every spot that’s red and bright and then softly stroking his genitals with it before beginning the circle again. One round is harder, the next is lighter, but I don’t stop. He’s sniffing and sobbing, whining and groaning, and all the sounds are like the filthiest porn. My cock aches to shove inside him and finish us both, but that wasn’t our agreement, and it isn’t what he needs. Maybe one day…

“Gibson,” he cries out, which is not his safe word.

He’s close. Precum pours from him. I return my hand to his neck, focus the flogger on gentler strokes between his spread thighs. On the fifth or sixth pass, he explodes.

His body spasms, bucking the restraints. Cum shoots from his cock, pooling in the bend of the board, staining the black leather with sticky white. I bite back a groan at the sight of it.

“More,” he begs.

Everything in me wants to use my mouth, but I drop the flogger and wrap my hand around his throbbing cock instead,milking him until the steady flow turns sporadic, and he’s shaking so hard I’m afraid he’ll pass out. I smooth my hand over one of his reddened ass cheeks and step back.

“Breathe, Christian,” I say.

He struggles. I see it in every jerking muscle fiber, but some air finally makes it into his lungs, and he lets it all go in a wrenching sob that threatens to break my heart.

Using the wet towel on the nightstand, I clean him with a few gentle caresses, then I pull his pants back up. I unbuckle the restraints on his ankles first, then move to release his hands.

I try to help get him upright, but he shrugs me away.

“No,” I say firmly. “We’re not finished.”

“Whatever you’re offering, I don’t need it.”

“You’ll take it. Give me your hand.”

His head turns, and his tear-stained glare is both angry and wounded. He slaps his hand too hard against my palm, and with one hand on his lower back, I help him upright until he’s on his knees. His ankle restraints were tighter so I give each of his ankles a rub to ensure good circulation. Touching the soles of his feet, I find them warm.

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