I moan, and his lips are on mine again as he slowly, oh so slowly, lifts
and rocks . . . lifts and rocks. I throw my arms around his neck, surrendering
to his gentle rhythm and to wherever he’ll take me. I flex my thighs, riding him
. . . he feels so good. Leaning backward, I tilt my head back, my mouth open
wide in a silent expression of my pleasure, reveling in his sweet lovemaking.
“Ana,” he breathes, and he leans down, kissing my throat. Holding me tight,
slowly easing in and out, pushing me . . . higher and higher . . . so exquisitely
timed—a fluid carnal force. Blissful pleasure radiates outward from deep,
deep inside me as he holds me so intimately.
“I love you, Ana,” he whispers close to my ear, his voice low and harsh, and
he lifts me again—up, down, up, down. I curl my hands back around his neck
into his hair.
“I love you, too, Christian.” Opening my eyes, I find he’s gazing at me, and all I
see is his love, shining bright and bold in the soft glow of the playroom light,
his nightmare seemingly forgotten. And as I feel my body build toward my
release, I realize this is what I wanted—this connection, this demonstration of
our love.
“Come for me, baby,” he whispers, his voice low. I screw my eyes shut as my
body tightens at the low sound of his voice, and I come loudly, spiraling into
an intense climax. He stills, his forehead against mine, as he softly whispers
my name, wraps his arms around me and finds his own release.
He lifts me gently and lays me on the bed. I lie in his arms, wrung out and
finally sated. He nuzzles my neck.
“Better now?” he whispers.
“Hmm.”
“Shall we go to bed, or do you want to sleep here?”
“Hmm.”
“Mrs. Grey, talk to me.” He sounds amused.
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“Hmm.”
“Is that the best you can do?”
“Hmm.”
“Come. Let me put you to bed. I don’t like sleeping here.”
Reluctantly, I shift and turn to face him. “Wait,” I whisper. He blinks at me,
looking all wide-eyed and innocent, and at the same time thoroughly fucked
and pleased with
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