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, Ana,” he scolds. “You came.” His voice is soft with his triumphant reprimand. He flips me onto my front, and I shakily support myself on my forearms. He smacks me hard on my behind.
“Ah!” I cry out.
“Control,” he admonishes, and grabbing my hips he thrusts himself into me. I cry out again, my flesh still quivering from the aftershocks of my orgasm. He stills while deep inside me and, leaning over, unclips first one, then the second cuff. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me into his lap, his front to my back, and his hand curls beneath my chin around my throat. I revel in the feeling of fullness.
“Move,” he orders.
I moan and rise up and down on his lap.
“Faster,” he whispers.
And I move faster and faster. He groans and his hand tips my head back as he nibbles my neck. His other hand travels leisurely across my body, from my hip, down to my sex, down to my clitoris… still sensitive from his earlier lavish attention. I whimper as his fingers close around me, teasing me once more.
“Yes, Ana,” he rasps softly in my ear. “You are mine. Only you.”
“Yes,” I breathe as my body tightens again, closing around him, cradling him in the most intimate way.
“Come for me,” he demands.
And I let go, my body obediently following his command. He holds me still as my climax rips through me and I call out his name.
“Oh, Ana, I love you,” he groans and follows my lead as he bucks into me, finding his own release.
He kisses my shoulder and smoothes my hair from my face. “Does that make the list, Mrs. Grey?” he murmurs. I am lying, barely conscious, flat on my belly on our bed. Christian gently kneads my backside. He’s propped up beside me on one elbow.
“Hmm.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Hmm.” I smile.
He grins and kisses me again, and reluctantly I roll on my side to face him.
“Well?” he asks.
“Yes. It makes the list. But it’s a long list.”
His face nearly splits in two, and he leans forward to kiss me gently. “Good. Shall we have dinner?” His eyes glow with love and humor.
I nod. I am famished. I reach over to gently pull the little hairs on his chest. “I want you to tell me something,” I whisper.
“What?”
“Don’t get mad.”
“What is it, Ana?”
“You do care.”
His eyes widen, and all trace of his good humor vanishes.
“I want you to admit that you care. Because the Christian I know and love would care.”
He stills, his eyes not leaving mine, and I’m witness to his internal struggle as if he’s about to make the judgment of Solomon. He opens his mouth to say something then closes it again as some fleeting emotion crosses his face… pain, maybe.
“Yes. Yes, I care. Happy?” His voice is barely a whisper.
Oh, thank fuck for that. It’s a relief. “Yes. Very.”
He frowns. “I can’t believe I’m talking to you now, here in our bed, about-”
I put my finger to his lips. “We’re not. Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “You beguile and bewilder me, Mrs. Grey.”
“Good.” I lean up and kiss him.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: The List
Date: September 9, 2011 09:33
To: Christian Grey
That’s definitely at the top.
:D
A x
Anastasia Grey
Commissioning Editor, SIP
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Tell Me Something New
Date: September 9, 2011 09:42
To: Anastasia Grey
You’ve said that for the last three days.
Make your mind up.Or… we could try something else.
;)
Christian Grey
CEO, Enjoying this Game, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I grin at my screen. The last few evenings have been… entertaining. We have relaxed again, Leila’s brief interruption forgotten. I haven’t quite worked up the courage to ask if any of her paintings hang on the walls-and frankly, I don’t really care. My BlackBerry buzzes and I answer, expecting Christian.
“Ana?”
“Yes?”
“Ana, honey. It’s Jose Senior.”
“Mr. Rodriguez! Hi!” My scalp prickles. What does Jose’s dad want with me?
“Honey, I’m sorry to call you at work. It’s Ray.” His voice falters.
“What is it? What’s happened?” My heart leaps into my throat.
“Ray’s been in an accident.”
“He’s in the hospital. You’d better get here quick.”
17
“Mr. Rodriguez, what’s happened?” My voice is hoarse and thick with unshed tears.
“He’s been in a car accident.”
