Page 39 of Flog Me, Sir

Chapter Fourteen

Garret

Lissa hardly knew me—but she remembered my birthday. I didn’t care if Tillie girl had told her less than an hour earlier. She’d offered me a happy birthday. Add in the best present ever, and I couldn’t keep from grinning.

I hadn’t planned on taking her with such force, but her voice, the pleading in her eyes when she’d begged had stripped away my control.

Groaning, my dick twitching, I lifted her off me, cursing the loss of her warm pussy for cold water wrapping around my semi.

“You okay?” she asked, brushing my hair back.

“I just like the wet heat of your pussy over this cold salt water,” I grumbled, and she laughed. Glancing around, I caught sight of her bikini bottoms and leaned a bit to grab them. “Let me help,” I said as she reached for them.

Hands on my shoulders, she lifted her legs, one at a time, to step into the bottoms I held beneath the water. I shimmied them up her thighs and grasped her ass cheeks once the clingy material covered them.

“Come to my room with me?” I asked and lifted her hand to my lips.

She smiled, her face still flushed and eyes sated, all trace of the earlier discomfort I’d seen long gone. “Did Mrs. Hummel know you were coming up here this weekend?”

I grinned and threaded my fingers through Lissa’s. “She told me I had to get my ass up here.”

“What did she threaten you with?”

“Never making me grits, ever again.”

We both laughed while climbing out of the pool.

“She’s probably got a bottle of sparkling water on ice up in your room,” Lissa said, shaking her head and grabbing a towel she’d left on a nearby chair.

Butt naked, I dripped onto the tile, watching as she dried her face, her chest, my gaze eating her up from small breasts to the tips of her chipped nail polished toes.

She tossed her towel, hitting me in the face.

I grinned. “Can’t help myself,” I said and licked my lips. “You look good enough to eat.”

“You already had your birthday cake.”

“I want a second piece.” I lifted my focus to her face to find her lips parted. “Upstairs?”

A cover up hid her ass as I climbed the stairs behind her, my own clothes in hand, her towel wrapped around my waist. I wanted to sink my teeth into the jiggling flesh, lick up through her crack. Shove my tongue into her rosebud hole and taste her musk.

I grasped one cheek and squeezed, and Lissa swatted back at me, smacking my forearm. “Stop!” she hissed, her attention darting around the landing she came to.

I crowded against her, my nose in her neck, still holding tight to her ass, my dick twitching against her other cheek from the top stair I stood upon. “Mmm.”

“Garret!” She slapped me again.

“If you want a spanking, little girl,” I said low against her ear, “keep it up.”

Her gulp returned my grin, and I moved back, slapping her ass. “My room. Now.”

She scurried down the hallway, and I strode after her, my dick leading the way.

Once inside the guest room I always stayed in while at Adam’s, Lissa turned and backed away, staring at me as I kicked the door shut—never taking my focus off her face.

“Strip.”

She did as told, her hands shaking while shoving her damp bikini bottoms to the floor. Once straightened, she lowered her gaze to the floor. I stared—filled my eyes full of the perfection of her body, pale skin, her muscles slender yet defined from hard work.

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