. .
could he turn against me? I gasp, recalling the fragments of a dream: gilt
mirrors and the sound of his heels clicking on the marbled floor as he lea一ves
me standing alone in opulent splendor.
“No . . .” The words are out of my mouth in whispered horror before I can stop
them.
“Yes,” he says, and grasping my chin he leans down and plants a tender kiss
on my lips.
“Oh, Christian, you scare me sometimes.” I grasp his head in my hands, twist
my fingers into his hair, and pull his lips to mine. He stills for a moment as his
arms fold around me.
“Why?”
“You could turn away from her so easily . . .”
He frowns. “And you think I might turn away from you, Ana? Why the hell
would you think that? What’s brought this on?”
“Nothing. Kiss me. Take me home,” I plead. And as his lips touch mine, I am
lost.
~o0o~
“Oh please,” I beg, as Christian blows gently on my sex.
“All in good time,” he murmurs.
I pull on my restraints and groan loudly in protest from his carnal assault. I’m
trussed up in soft leather cuffs, each elbow bound to each knee, and
Christian’s head bobs and wea一ves between my legs, his masterful tongue
teasing me, relentless. I open my eyes and gaze unseeing at our bedroom
ceiling bathed in the soft late afternoon light. His tongue moves round and
round, swirling and curling over and 322 | P a g e
E L JAMES
around the center of my universe. I want to straighten my legs and struggle in
a vain attempt to control the pleasure. But I can’t. My fingers fist in his hair
and I tug hard to fight his sublime torture.
“Don’t come,” he murmurs in warning against me, his soft breath on my
warm, wet flesh as he resists my fingers. “I will spank you if you come.”
I moan.
“Control, Ana. It’s all about control.” His tongue renews its erotic incursion.
Oh, he knows what he’s doing. I am helpless to resist or stop my sla一vish
reaction, and I try—really try—but my body detonates under his merciless
ministrations, and his tongue doesn’t stop as he wrings every last ounce of
debilita
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