.
“Remember, if you don’t like something, just tell me to
stop,” he murmurs. Bending over, he kisses my belly, soft,
sucky kisses while his hands continue their slow tortuous
journey north up my inner thighs, touching and teasing.
“Oh please, Christian,” I plead.
“Oh, Miss Steele. I’ve discovered you can be
merciless in your amorous assaults upon me. I think I
should return the fa一vor.”
My fingers clutch the duvet as I surrender myself to
him, his mouth gently heading south, his fingers north, to
the vulnerable and exposed apex of my thighs. I groan as
he eases his fingers inside me and buck my pelvis up to
meet them. Christian moans in response.
“You never cease to amaze me, Ana. You’re so wet,”
he murmurs against the line where my pubic hair joins my
he murmurs against the line where my pubic hair joins my
belly. My body bows as his mouth finds me.
Oh my.
He begins a slow and sensual assault, his tongue
swirling around and around while his fingers move inside
me. Because I can’t close my legs, or move, it’s intense,
really intense. My back arches as I try to absorb the
sensations.
“Oh, Christian,” I cry.
“I know, baby,” he whispers, and to ease up on me, he
blows softly on the most sensitive part of my body.
“Arrgh! Please!” I beg.
“Say my name,” he commands.
“Christian,” I call, hardly recognizing my own voice—
it’s so high-pitched and needy.
“Again,” he breathes.
“Christian, Christian, Christian Grey,” I call out loudly.
“You are mine.” His voice is soft and deadly and with
one last flick of his tongue, I fall—spectacularly—
embracing my orgasm, and because my legs are so far
embracing my orgasm, and because my legs are so far
apart, it goes on and on and I am lost.
Vaguely, I’m aware that Christian has flipped me on to
my front.
“We’re going to try this, baby. If you don’t like it, or
it’s too uncomfortable, tell me, and we’ll stop.”
What? I am too lost in the afterglow to form any
sentient or coherent thoughts. I am sitting on Christian’s
lap. How did that hap
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