Page 51 of Flog Me, Sir

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his footfalls drawing closer.

Black dress shoes, shined and scuff free, came into my line of sight.

I lifted the box rather than respond.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking it from my shaking fingers.

“Open it, Sir.”

I glanced up through my lashes, needing to see his face.

He flipped the lid open and stared at the contents a few seconds before lifting the choker necklace with its locket.

“Lissa...” he turned his focus on me, his eyes dark, full of love and lust. “Are you proposing to me?”

I opened my mouth but shut it just as quickly, my brow furrowing.

Chuckling, Garret grabbed me up in his arms—and swatted my ass. “I’m joking, sweet thing. Now get back on your knees so I can collar my sweet little sub.”

He’d joked a month earlier about collaring me and making me crawl after him like a little pussy cat, but I hadn’t found that funny, either. I’d found it humiliating—and sexy as hell.

In that moment, I knew I loved him, that I wanted to offer him my undying devotion—thus the surprise and gift.

I sank back to my knees and stared up at him as he clasped the necklace around my neck, his soft smile, the happiness in his eyes more than I could have hoped for. The snick of the lock clicking into place filled me to the point of overflowing with happiness.

Garret rubbed his thumb over my smiling lips before straightening. “Put your hand in my pocket.”

Having expected him to give me permission to take out his dick, my brow roses in question.

“In my pocket, Lissa.”

A small box tucked alongside the hard length buried beneath too much fabric. I stared at the box in my hand. Black and velvet-like. I bit the inside of my lip, breath held.

“I was saving this for next weekend when I came to see you,” he murmured. “Open it, Lissa.”

I obeyed, and my breath left in a rush. A huge diamond sparkled up at me, catching the light of the overhead I’d knelt beneath.

Garret dropped to his knees in front of me, snagging my attention. “Well?” he asked, a hint of insecurity in his eyes endearing him to me all the more.

“Are you proposing to me?” I asked, my voice trembling as much as the rest of my body.

“Yes.”

“You’re not joking?”

“No.”

I swallowed—gulped more like it—and focused on the ring again. More than anything, I’d hoped to one day be able to call my Dom my own. He’d claimed countless times that I owned him, told me every morning and evening by phone or text that he loved me more than life. Garret Edwards had given himself to me over and over again, never tiring of making me smile. Never growing annoyed with my inability to tell if he joked or not. He’d devoured every single one of my manuscripts and claimed to love them. He insisted on helping me find an agent so I could pursue my dream of becoming published one day.

“Lissa.” His whisper pulled me back to the present.

“Yes,” I whispered, tears slipping down both my cheeks.

He tipped my head up with a touch to my chin. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

His slow smile sent the butterflies to flight once more, and he kissed my tears away, slipping the ring onto my finger, marking me his in a way handprints and lashes could never do. Claimed for the world to see—with pride of ownership.

“I love you, Sir,” I managed through my tears.

Garret rose to his feet, looming over me, love and lust shining down from his gaze, spreading happiness through every cell of my body. I felt like a slave at the feet of a god—and I loved it.

“Show me.”

I unclasped his belt, but my hands no longer trembled. I knew how to please my Sir, and nothing, not even the ring sparkling on my finger as I wrapped my hand around his girth, gave me the same pleasure in return.

Being on my knees for my Sir gave me a power I’d come to crave beyond just him and his body. It made me realize it took strength, not weakness, to submit and I’d become addicted to the feeling—and I had no plans on ever giving that vice up.

THE END

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