es, his voice hoarse.
“Christian!”
He pushes fractionally into me again then withdraws while kissing me, his
fingers tugging at my nipple. It’s pleasure overload.
“No!”
“Do you want me, Anastasia?”
“Yes,” I beg.
“Tell me,” he murmurs, his breathing harsh, and he teases me once more—in
. . . and out.
“I want you,” I whimper. “Please.”
I hear his soft sigh against my ear.
“And ha一ve me you will, Anastasia.”
He rears up and slams into me. I scream, tilting my head back, pulling on the
restraints as he hits my sweet spot, and I am all sensation, everywhere—a
sweet, sweet agony, and I cannot move. He stills then circles his hips, and
the motion radiates deep inside me.
“Why do you defy me, Ana?”
“Christian, stop . . .”
34 | P a g e
E L JAMES
He circles deep inside me again, ignoring my plea, easing out slowly and
then slamming into me again.
“Tell me. Why?” he hisses, and I’m vaguely aware that it’s through gritted
teeth.
I cry out in an incoherent wail . . . this is too much.
“Tell me.”
“Christian . . .”
“Ana, I need to know.”
He slams into me again, thrusting so deep, and I’m building . . . the feeling is
so intense—it swamps me, spiraling out from deep within my belly, to each
limb, to each biting metal restraint.
“I don’t know!” I cry out. “Because I can! Because I love you!
Please, Christian.”
He groans loudly and thrusts deep, again and again, over and over, and I am
lost, trying to absorb the pleasure. It’s mind blowing . . . body blowing . . . I
long to straighten my legs, to control my imminent orgasm, but I can’t . . . I’m
helpless. I’m his, just his, to do with as he wills . . . Tears spring to my eyes.
This is too intense. I can’t stop him. I don’t want to stop him . . . I want . . . I
want . . . oh no, oh no . . . this is too . . .
“That’s it,” Christian growls. “Feel it, baby!”
I detonate around him, again and again, round and round, screaming loudly
as my orgasm rips me apart, scorching through me like a wildfire, consuming
everything. I am wrung ragged, t
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