Page 59 of Blindsided

“What a filthy sub you are. Can’t wait to be fucked, even after being spanked in front of the office. We might as well show them how much you like being punished.”

Lincoln’s head bobbed rapidly. “That. Fuck, yes, that. I-I’m sorry. I’ve learned my lesson.”

I chuckled, unsure if Lincoln even knew what he was talking about but confident he really did want to be fucked. I gripped his sides, careful not to dig my fingertips into his overly heated flesh, and proceeded to pull out and slam back in. It wasn’t a punishingly fast pace but hard enough I knew he felt it when my thighs slapped against his tender backside.

Lincoln hissed and moaned with each thrust until his need to orgasm finally overrode his body’s pain response and each time I pushed into him, he whimpered and groaned. “Sir, my balls ache. I need to come.”

Impressed with his ability to form a full sentence, I rewarded him by reaching beneath him and grabbing his cock. He moaned at the contact and I felt his ass tighten around my dick. He wasn’t even coming and the clench was almost enough to pull an orgasm from me. “Come for me, Link. Let everyone see how much you liked being watched. How much you enjoyed our discussion.”

His arms shook where he rested on his elbows and he whined helplessly as his body tensed and he bucked into my grip. “That’s it, Link. Let it out. Come for me. Come for them. They want to see you come.”

Those were the words Lincoln had needed to hear. His body stiffened and his dick pulsated before he screamed into the room, spilling into my fist and onto the desk. I continued to fuck him, my orgasm right there as well. He was still coming when I started to fill the condom deep inside him.

We were both spent, exhausted, and sore, but the smile on Lincoln’s face when he looked up again told me it had been worth it. After our orgasms, our onlookers disappeared without a sound, and we were left in relative privacy to clean ourselves up.

I quickly worked to help Lincoln out of his pants, then did the same for myself. One look at my jeans and I was thankful I’d thought to grab sweats for myself since the jeans were covered in drips of cum that had continued to leak from my tip after I’d removed the condom. Lincoln’s pants hadn’t fared much better.

With towels wrapped around us both, I flipped the sign on the outside of the office door to indicate it needed to be cleaned, then headed to find an aftercare room to snuggle my spent and exhausted boyfriend until he was ready to head home.

CHAPTER 26

LINCOLN

I hadn’t fallen asleep, but I’d definitely drifted for what felt like hours. According to the clock on the wall, we hadn’t been in the aftercare room for more than thirty minutes, but my brain was hard-pressed to believe it. Maybe that was because we’d ended up in the same position we slept in every night. I was warm and comfortable with Easton’s thumb in my mouth and my quilt in my hand and resting against my cheek.

My quilt?

My eyes tried to focus downward without crossing. Sure enough, my quilt was resting in my fist. How it had gotten to the club and when it had gotten into my hand were questions I didn’t have the energy to ask, but I was thankful it had. The fuzzy, warm space I’d found myself in as Easton had spanked me had dropped me into subspace faster than I’d thought possible.

Every time I reached subspace, I was amazed at how fast it happened and how safe I felt. It was all because of Easton, and I would eventually find the energy and words to tell him as much. Until then, I was happy to gently sink back to reality while being tightly tethered to Easton by his grasp.

As the room came into sharper focus, my eyes landed on the bedside table—a homey little touch—and the flogger lying on it. I blinked a few times, not willing to believe I was seeing what I thought I was. The soft yellow falls of leather were hard to mistake for anything else, but my brain was too floaty to let the surprise overtake me.

I stared at it for a long moment, trying to make the flogger be anything but what it was. Eventually, disbelief turned to curiosity, and I wanted to know more. “Th-That.” My tongue felt heavy, slurring the word, and not all of it was because of Easton’s thumb blocking its movement.

He slowly moved his hand away, giving me a chance to clamp my lips around his thumb again if I wanted to. When I didn’t resist, he wiped it off on the pillow by my head and brought his hand to my shoulder. “What was that?”

My heartbeat had picked up and I could feel it fluttering in my chest. “The flogger. You still have it.” My words came out whispered, my mouth parched and lips dry.

Easton rolled to the side and back, an opened bottle of water appearing in front of me before he said anything. “Drink.” I wrapped my lips around the mouth of the bottle and drank, hesitantly at first, then in big gulps. I hadn’t realized just how thirsty I’d become until the cool water wet my mouth.

With half the bottle gone and both of us in more comfortable positions, Easton turned his attention back to the flogger and its warm yellow deerskin and handle made of soft brown braided leather. “Of course I still have it.”

“Why?” I hadn’t meant to sound so in awe, but I was. Why had he held on to it for all these years?

Easton made a noise of discomfort and I swore I could feel his face heat where it rested against my cheek as we talked. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I could never bring myself to get rid of it.”

I managed to wriggle farther into his grip and pulled his arm tighter around me. “Thank you.” The sentence wavered as I had to force the words out past the lump in my throat. The longer I stared at the flogger, the more memories flooded in.

“D’you remember picking it out?” Easton’s voice was thick as well and I wondered if he was remembering some of what I was.

I nodded, never taking my eyes off of it. “Yeah. It felt so huge.”

Easton laughed silently against my body. “It did. I was so scared of buying the wrong thing and hurting you.”

“I know.” He’d saved for over a month to buy the flogger from a custom shop. I couldn’t remember how much it had cost, but I knew it had been a lot for him at the time. I’d tried to tell him it didn’t have to be fancy, but he’d refused to buy anything less expensive because he didn’t trust the descriptions or the sellers.

I pulled my quilt up to cover both our arms and squeezed his hand between my arm and chest. “But you didn’t. You never have. As it turned out, I’m the one who hurt you.”

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