is jeans and pulls off his socks, and I
take hold of him in my hand and squeeze tightly, pushing
my hand back like he’s shown me before. He groans and
tenses, and his breath hisses through clenched teeth. Very
tentatively, I put him in my mouth and suck—hard. Mmm,
he tastes good.
“Ahh. Ana . . . whoa, gently.”
He cups my head tenderly, and I push him deeper into
my mouth, pressing my lips together as tightly as I can,
sheathing my teeth, and sucking hard.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
Oh, that’s a good, inspiring, sexy sound, so I do it
again, pulling his length deeper, swirling my tongue around
the end. Hmm . . . I feel like Aphrodite.
“Ana, that’s enough. No more.”
“Ana, that’s enough. No more.”
I do it again—Beg, Grey, beg—and again.
“Ana, you’ve made your point,” he grunts through
gritted teeth. “I do not want to come in your mouth.”
I do it once more, and he bends down, grasps me by
my shoulders, hauls me to my feet, and tosses me on the
bed. Dragging his shirt over his head, he then reaches
down to his discarded jeans, and like a good boy scout,
produces a foil packet. He’s panting, like me.
“Take your bra off,” he orders.
I sit up and do as I’m told.
“Lie down. I want to look at you.”
I lie down, gazing up at him as he slowly rolls the
condom on. I want him so badly. He stares down at me
and licks his lips.
“You are a fine sight, Anastasia Steele.” He bends
over the bed and slowly crawls up and over me, kissing
me as he goes. He kisses each of my breasts and teases
my nipples in turn, while I groan and writhe beneath him,
and he doesn’t stop.
No . . . Stop. I want you.
“Christian, please.”
“Please what?” he murmurs between my breasts.
“I want you inside me.”
“Do you now?”
“Please.”
Gazing at me, he pushes my legs apart with his and
moves so that he’s hovering above me. Without taking his
eyes off mine, he sinks into me at a deliciously slow pace.
I close my eyes, relishing the fullness, the exquisite
I close my eyes, relishing the fullness, the exquisite
feeling of his
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