“Oh, what shall I do to you?” he whispers. His fingers halt at my stocking tops.
“I like these,” he says. He runs a finger underneath the top and skims it
around to my inner thigh. I gasp and squirm once more in his lap.
He groans, low in his throat. “If I’m going to fuck you seven shades of Sunday,
I want you to keep still.”
“Make me,” I challenge, my voice soft and breathy.
Christian inhales sharply. He narrows his eyes and regards me with a hot,
hooded expression.
“Oh, Mrs. Grey. You ha一ve only to ask.” His hand moves from my stocking tops
up to my panties. “Let’s pest you of these.” He tugs gently and I shift to help
him. His breath hisses through his teeth as I do.
“Keep still,” he grumbles.
“I’m helping,” I pout, and he seizes my lower lip gently between his teeth.
“Still,” he growls. He slides my panties down my legs and off. Tugging my
skirt up so that it’s bunched around my hips, he moves both hands to my
waist and lifts me. He still has my panties in his hand.
“Sit. Astride me,” he orders staring intently into my eyes. I shift, straddling
him, and regard him provocatively. Bring it on, Fifty!
“Mrs. Grey,” he warns “Are you goading me?” He gazes at me, amused but
aroused. It’s a seductive combination.
“Yes. What are you going to do about it?”
His eyes light up with salacious delight at my challenge, and I feel his arousal
beneath me. “Clasp your hands together behind your back.”
Oh! I comply obediently and, deftly, he binds my wrists together with my
panties. He fastens them tight.
“My panties? Mr. Grey, you ha一ve no shame,” I admonish.
“Not where you’re concerned, Mrs. Grey, but you know that.” His look is
intense and hot. Putting his hands around my waist, he shifts me so I am
sitting a little further back on his lap. Water still drips down his neck and over
his chest. I want to bend forward and lick the drips off, but it’s trickier now that
I am restrained.
Christian caresses both of my thighs and skims his hands down to my knees.
Gently he pushes them f
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