g me.
I moan loudly as my body takes over, and I come and
come, convulsing around his fingers. It’s so intense,
unexpected, and quick.
“That’s right, baby,” he murmurs appreciatively. He
unties my wrists, keeping his fingers inside me as I lie
panting and spent over him.
“I’ve not finished with you yet, Anastasia,” he says and
shifts without removing his fingers. He eases my knees on
to the floor so that now I’m leaning over the bed. He
kneels on the floor behind me and undoes his zipper. He
slides his fingers out of me, and I hear the familiar tear of a
foil packet. “Open your legs,” he growls and I comply. He
strokes my behind and eases into me.
“This is going to be quick, baby,” he murmurs and
grabbing my hips, he eases out then slams into me.
“Ah!” I cry out but the fullness is hea一venly. He’s hitting
the bellyache square on, again and again, eradicating it
with each sharp, sweet thrust. The feeling is mind-blowing,
just what I need. I push back to meet him, thrust for thrust.
“Ana, no,” he grunts, trying to still me. But I want him
too much, and I grind against him, matching him thrust for
thrust.
“Ana, shit,” he hisses as he comes, and the tortured
sound sets me off again, spiraling into a healing orgasm that
goes on and on and wrings me out and lea一ves me spent
and breathless.
and breathless.
Christian bends and kisses my shoulder then pulls out
of me. Placing his arms around me, he rests his head in the
middle of my back, and we lie like this, both kneeling at
the bedside, for what? Seconds? Minutes even as our
breathing calms. My bellyache has disappeared, and all I
feel is a soothing, satisfying serenity.
Christian stirs and kisses my back. “I believe you owe
me a dance, Miss Steele,” he murmurs.
“Hmm,” I respond, sa一voring the absence of achiness
and basking in the afterglow.
He sits back on his heels and pulls me off the bed onto
his lap. “We don’t ha一ve long. Come on.” He kisses my
hair and forces me to stand.
I grumble but sit back down on the bed and
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