you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I need your promise.”
I inhale sharply. Shit, what is he going to do? “I promise,” I murmur
breathless, recalling his words from earlier: I don’t want to hurt you, 105 | P a
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Fifty Shades Freed
but I’m more than happy to play.
“Good girl.” Leaning down, he plants a kiss on my naked shoulder then
hooks a finger beneath my bra strap and traces a line across my back
beneath the strap. I want to moan. How does he make the slightest touch so
erotic?
“Take it off,” he whispers at my ear, and hurriedly I oblige and let my bra fall
to the floor.
His hands skim down my back, and he hooks both of his thumbs into my
panties and slides them down my legs.
“Step,” he orders. Once more I do as I’m told, stepping out of my panties. He
plants a kiss on my backside and stands.
“I am going to blindfold you so that everything will be more intense.” He slips
an airline eye mask over my eyes, and my world is plunged into the
darkness. The woman singing moans incoherently . . . a haunting, heartfelt
melody.
“Bend down and lie flat on the table.” His words are softly spoken.
“Now.”
Without hesitation, I bend over the side of the table and rest my torso on the
highly polished wood, my face flush against the hard surface. It’s cool against
my skin and it smells vaguely of beeswax with a citrus tang.
“Stretch your arms up and hold on to the edge.”
Okay . . . Reaching forward, I clutch the far edge of the table. It’s quite wide,
so my arms are fully extended.
“If you let go, I will spank you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to spank you, Anastasia?”
Everything south of my waist tightens deliciously. I realize I’ve wanted this
since he threatened me during lunch, and neither the car chase nor our
subsequent intimate encounter has sated this need.
“Yes.” My voice is a hoarse whisper.
“Why?”
Oh . . . do I ha一ve to ha一ve a reason? Jeez. I shrug.
“Tell me,” he coaxes.
“Um . . .”
And from out of nowhere he smacks me hard.
“Ah!” I cry out.
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