Fifty Shades of Grey (Fifty Shades #1)(40)
Author: E.L. James

I groan and desperately fight the urge to tilt my hips, pulling on my restraint. Oh no…

please.

With one finger, he pulls down my bra cups in turn, my br**sts pushed up, exposed and vulnerable. Leaning down, he kisses and tugs at each of my ni**les in turn with cool, cold lips. I fight my body as it tries to arch in response.

"How nice is this?" he breathes, blowing on one of my ni**les.

I hear another clink of ice, and then I can feel it round my right nipple as he tugs the left one with his lips. I moan, struggling not to move. It’s sweet, agonizing torture.

"If you spill the wine, I won’t let you come,"

"Oh… please… Christian… Sir… Please." He’s driving me insane. I hear him smile.

The ice in my navel is melting. I am beyond warm – warm and chilled and wanting.

Wanting him, inside me. Now.

His cool fingers trail languidly across my belly. My skin is oversensitive, my hips flex automatically, and the now warmer liquid from my navel seeps over my belly. Christian moves quickly, lapping it up with his tongue, kissing, biting me softly, sucking.

"Oh dear, Anastasia, you moved. What am I going to do to you?"

I’m panting loudly. All I can concentrate on is his voice and his touch. Nothing else is real. Nothing else matters, nothing else registers on my radar. His fingers slip into my panties, and I’m rewarded with his unguarded sharp intake of air.

"Oh, baby," he murmurs and he pushes two fingers inside me.

I gasp.

"Ready for me so soon," he says. He moves his fingers tantalizingly slowly, in, out, and I push against him, tilting my hips up.

"You are a greedy girl," he scolds softly, and his thumb circles my clitoris and then presses down.

I groan loudly as my body bucks beneath his expert fingers. He reaches up and pushes the t-shirt over my head so I can see him as I blink in the soft light of my sidelight. I long to touch him.

"I want to touch you," I breathe.

"I know," he murmurs. He leans down and kisses me, his fingers still moving rhythmically inside me, his thumb circling and pressing. His other hand scoops my hair off my head and holds my head in place. His tongue mirrors the actions of his fingers, claiming me. My legs begin to stiffen as I push against his hand. He gentles his hand, so I’m brought back from the brink. He does this again and again. It’s so frustrating… Oh please Christian, I scream in my head.

"This is your punishment, so close and yet so far. Is this nice?" he breathes in my ear.

I whimper, exhausted, pulling against my restraint. I’m helpless, lost in an erotic torment.

"Please," I beg, and he finally takes pity on me.

"How shall I f**k you, Anastasia?"

Oh… my body starts to quiver. He stills again.

"Please."

"What do you want, Anastasia?"

"You… now," I cry.

"Shall I f**k you this way, or this way, or this wayThere’s an endless choice," he breathes against my lips. He withdraws his hand and reaches over to the bedside table for a foil packet. He kneels up between my legs, and very slowly he pulls my panties off, staring down at me, his eyes gleaming. He puts on the condom. I watch fascinated, mesmerized.

"How nice is this?" he says as he strokes himself.

"I meant it as a joke," I whimper. Please f**k me, Christian.

He raises his eyebrows as his hand moves up and down his impressive length.

"A joke?" His voice is menacingly soft.

"Yes. Please, Christian," I beseech him.

"Are you laughing now?"

"No," I mewl.

I am just one ball of sexual, tense, need. He stares down at me for a moment, measur-ing my need, then he grabs me suddenly and flips me over. It takes me by surprise, and because my hands are tied, I have to support myself on my elbows. He pushes both my knees up the bed so my behind is in the air, and he slaps me hard. Before I can react, he plunges inside me. I cry out – from the slap and from his sudden assault, and I come instantly again and again, falling apart beneath him as he continues to slam deliciously into me. He doesn’t stop. I’m spent. I can’t take this… and he pounds on and on and on… then I’m building again… surely not… no…

"Come on, Anastasia, again," he growls through clenched teeth, and unbelievably, my body responds, convulsing around him as I climax anew, calling out his name. I shatter again into tiny fragments, and Christian stills, finally letting go, silently finding his release.

He collapses on top of me, breathing hard.

"How nice was that?" he asks through his gritted teeth.

Oh my.

I lie panting and spent on the bed, eyes closed as he slowly pulls out of me. He rises immediately and dresses. When he’s fully clothed, he climbs back on the bed and gently undoes his tie and pulls my t-shirt off. I flex my fingers and rub my wrists, smiling at the woven pattern imprinted on my wrists from the tie. I re-adjust my bra as he pulls the duvet and quilt over me. I stare up at him completely dazed, and he smirks down at me.

"That was really nice," I whisper, smiling coyly.

"There’s that word again."

"You don’t like that word?"

"No. It doesn’t do it for me at all."

"Oh – I don’t know… it seems to have a very beneficial effect on you."

"I’m a beneficial effect, now am ICould you wound my ego any further, Miss Steele?"

"I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your ego." But even as I say it, I don’t feel the conviction of my words – something elusive crosses my mind, a fleeting thought, but it’s lost before I can grasp it.

"You think?" His voice is soft. He’s lying beside me, fully clothed, his head propped up on his elbow, and I am only wearing my bra.

"Why don’t you like to be touched?"

"I just don’t." He reaches over and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. "So, that email was your idea of a joke."

I smile apologetically at him and shrug.

"I see. So you are still considering my proposition?"

"Your indecent proposal… yes I am. I have issues though."

He grins down at me as if relieved.

"I’d be disappointed if you didn’t."

"I was going to email them to you, but you kind of interrupted me."

"Coitus Interruptus."

"See, I knew you had a sense of humor somewhere in there." I smile.

"Only certain things are funny, Anastasia. I thought you were saying no, no discussion at all." His voice drops.

"I don’t know yet. I haven’t made up my mind. Will you collar me?"

He raises his eyebrows.

"You have been doing your research. I don’t know, Anastasia. I’ve never collared anyone."

Oh… should I be surprised by thisI know so little about the scene… I don’t know.

"Were you collared?" I whisper.

"Yes."

"By Mrs. Robinson?"

"Mrs. Robinson!" he laughs loudly, freely, and he looks so young and carefree, his head thrown back, his laughter infectious.

I grin back at him.

"I’ll tell her you said that, she’ll love it."

"You still talk to her regularly?" I can’t keep the shock out of my voice.

"Yes." He’s serious now.

Oh… and part of me is suddenly insanely jealous – I’m disturbed by the depth of my feeling.

"I see." My voice is tight. "So you have someone you can discuss your alternative lifestyle with, but I’m not allowed."

He frowns.

"I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it like that. Mrs. Robinson was part of that lifestyle. I told you, she’s a good friend now. If you’d like, I can introduce you to one of my former subs, you could talk to her."

WhatIs he deliberately trying to upset me?

"Is this your idea of a joke?

"No, Anastasia." He’s bemused as he shakes his head earnestly.

"No – I’ll do this on my own, thank you very much," I snap at him, pulling the duvet up to my chin.

He stares at me, at sea, surprised.

"Anastasia, I… " He’s lost for words. A first, I think. "I didn’t mean to offend you."

"I’m not offended. I’m appalled."

"Appalled?"

"I don’t want to talk to one of your ex-girlfriends… slave… sub… whatever you call them."

"Anastasia Steele – are you jealous?"

I flush, crimson.

"Are you staying?"

"I have a breakfast meeting tomorrow at the Heathman. Besides, I told you, I don’t sleep with girlfriends, slaves, subs, or anyone. Friday and Saturday night were exceptions.