Page 26 of Flog Me, Sir

“Need,” I heard myself whisper, and licked my lips to provide moisture to their dry surface.

Eyes closed behind the scarf, I strained for noise when his touch left.

“P-please.” I sobbed.

“I have you, Lissa.”

Heat blew against my pussy, and my muscles clenched against being held spread open. Empty.

Garret closed his mouth over my clit, and I arched, another sob flying past my lips.

He slid what felt like three fingers into the sopping mess between my thighs, slowly fucking them in and out of me while lightly flicking his tongue against my clit.

I shuddered. Shook the shackles holding me in place as my climax swelled inside me.

“Come for me, Lissa.” Garret crooked his fingers inside me and stroked.

Like a ten foot swell, my climax crashed over me, dragging me under. Drowning me in release so intense, I seemed to float into another dimension, one where nothing mattered, no drive rode me to accomplish anything but revel in the euphoric tingles racing through my blood.

Garret held my thighs, lapping at my pussy until a shuddering sigh drooped my head down between my spread arms.

He stood and ripped off the scarf.

I blinked in the dimmed light, needing focus—

My face cradled in his hands, he took my mouth, his tongue lashing as he groaned as though needing to be closer than merely pressed against me, as though he wanted to dive deep inside me as I longed to do to him.

“Tell me you’re okay, Lissa,” he said between swipes of his lips that held a tang they hadn’t before. “Tell me it wasn’t too much.”

“I loved it.”

He pulled back, his eyes dark and searching. Unsure. Full of need. “You did?”

My ears still rang, my brain still half-fogged, but I found myself smiling. “Yes.”

With a groan, he took my mouth once more until my pulse kicked back up and I started to rub against him.

“I need you, Garret. Need you inside me.”

His hands shook as he unshackled me, but his arms banded around me once sweeping me up against his chest.

He set me on the bed and stepped back, ripping at his shirt. A button pinged, and I wiggled my ass on the mattress, wanting him to move faster.

His cock sprang free as he shoved his slacks down, bobbing and dripping as he kicked off his shoes. Having already poked around the church when cleaning earlier that afternoon, I went for what we needed—a condom from the bed stand.

Garret knelt on either side of my thighs as I rolled the rubber over him, my hands steadier than earlier. He settled between my spread legs, and I tangled my hands in his hair as he held his cock against my opening.

Gaze locked on my eyes, he slowly pressed in, sending a rush of adrenaline and need through my blood.

“More,” I told him, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He sank in deep with a groan, and our mouths came together as his groin rested against mine.

No trace of the earlier stinging ache bloomed around his girth, and I nearly cried at the delicious friction between us with every drag and push of his hips, filling me. Emptying me. I squeezed him tight, my fingernails in his back, desperate to keep him close. Deep inside me.

He released my mouth and planked on his elbows, his hands still cradling my face. Our gazes once more locked on one another, and he didn’t just fuck me—he showed me what it meant for a man to love a woman’s body. To give of himself with no intention of selfish taking.

I knew he longed to make it perfect for me—but he already had.

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