Shadows of Desire
I wasn’t expecting to end up holding the flogger.
It started as a passing conversation by the bar—Marco leaning against the counter, his usual easy grin in place, a glass of something amber in his hand. I’d just settled beside him, still a little on edge after Andre’s warning about the new voyeur.
“You’ve been on quite a ride since you got here, Monroe,” he said, clinking his glass lightly against mine. “Blindfolds, flogging, sensory deprivation… and always from the bottom.”
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