Page 10 of Flog Me, Sir

Less than five minutes in Garret’s hold, and I understood insta-lust and the need to be plundered. Consumed.

I finally had a real-life experience to use in writing, not just second hand from reading.

Garret glanced behind me. “I don’t suppose I could persuade you to hop in there with me to clean up this mess in my boxers?”

I gulped at the idea of his naked body. Hot skin. Roaming hands. Steam fogging the glass, obliterating my thoughts and body.

“Um...”

Garret chuckled again and set me on my feet. “Too much, too soon. Gotcha. I’ll just have to do it myself.”

He pulled his shirt off overhead and kicked off his shoes.

I stared, unmoving as he shoved his jeans and boxers to the floor. Semi hard and coated in cum, his cock snagged my stare. Watered my mouth.

“You can’t look at me like that and expect me to walk away, Lissa.”

I snapped my jaw shut and backed up two paces on legs that once more threatened to buckle.

He turned to hop in the shower, jets of water blasting against him with a few twists of the knobs.

I couldn’t tear my gaze off him. Perfectly formed, every dip, valley, and bulge of his entire body reminded me of a marble statue, a god created for worship.

The thought of dropping to my knees for him again sent a rush of arousal through me once more, and even though embarrassed as hell to be star-struck and staring at a naked man showering, I couldn’t turn away.

His cock swelled as he cleaned himself, and his slow downward stroke along his long, thick length had me biting the inside of my lip to keep from moaning.

He could easily become an all-consuming addiction—

The thought jerked me back to reality like a slap to my hot face. I turned and left the bathroom, gloves, bucket, and cleaning supplies, forgotten.

“Lissa!” Garret called out, the water shutting off as I scurried to the church’s door. “Please wait! Please!”

Unable to deny his command over my fear, I pulled up, breathing heavy, a slew of contradicting emotions swarming my mind. I shivered, wrapped my arms around my middle as though trying to hold myself together.

His sigh from the bathroom door fluttered my eyelids closed. “You okay?” he asked from a bit closer.

“Mmm.” I nodded, knowing I wouldn’t convince a flea off a dog.

“Did I do something to upset you?”

The heat of him caressed my back, but he didn’t touch me.

“No,” I whispered as the memory of him stroking himself played out vividly in my mind.

“Too much, too soon?” he mumbled, his tone revealing his disappointment.

While I wasn’t one for spilling my guts or even socializing that much, something compelled me to tell him the truth. I wanted him to understand—I didn’t want him to be hurt by assumption. We had shared a very intimate moment. I needed him to know.

“You’re a Dominant,” I said, turning to face him and finding him as close as I’d expected.

Water dripped from his hair onto his bare shoulders, and I took note of the white towel wrapped around his waist. “I enjoy giving submissives the attention they crave.”

“And the pain?”

“I won’t lie about getting off while giving it—if that’s what a sub wants.”

I hugged myself tighter. “My mom beat me.”

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