Total pages in book: 262
Estimated words: 268603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1343(@200wpm)___ 1074(@250wpm)___ 895(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 268603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1343(@200wpm)___ 1074(@250wpm)___ 895(@300wpm)
When I don’t think she can take much more, I kneel at her feet and trail kisses across her belly, my tongue circling her navel and then continuing a journey south. Grabbing her thighs, I hoist her legs over my shoulders and slide her vulva toward my mouth. She tips back in the harness and lets out a guttural cry as my lips and tongue find her clitoris, swollen and ready for my attention. I go to town, dedicating myself to the small powerhouse at the apex of her thighs.
Teasing. Testing. Torturing her with my mouth.
“Christian,” she gasps, and I know she’s close.
I stop and set her back on her toes. I want her to come with her toes bouncing on the floor. It’ll be intense. Standing, I steady her, and from my back pocket, I grab the ridged glass dildo and run it over her belly. “Feel this?”
“Yes. Yes. Cold,” she breathes.
“Cold. Good. I’m going to put it inside you. And after you’ve come, I’m going to put me inside you.”
She makes a strangled groan.
“Legs apart,” I order.
Ana ignores me. “Ana!”
Tentatively she moves her feet and I run the end of the dildo up her thigh and oh-so-slowly slip it inside her.
“Argh!” she groans. “Cold!” Gently to begin with, I pump my hand, knowing that the glass wand is shaped to hit that potent, sweet, sweet spot inside her. This is not going to take long. With my other hand, I circle her waist, holding her close and kissing her throat, inhaling her rousing scent.
Ana, come apart in my arms.
She’s so close. So close. My hand continues to move. Harder. Faster. Taking her higher. Her legs are stiffening and suddenly she goes rigid and screams as her climax rips though her. She bucks against her bindings as I thrust the dildo inside her, making her ride out her orgasm. When her head tips back, her mouth slack, I ease it out of her and toss it onto the bed. I unclip first one and then the other carabiner from her shoulder straps, then carry her to the bed.
I lay her out. Still harnessed. Her hands still tied. I remove the blindfold. Her eyes are closed. I unzip my jeans and swiftly remove them and my boxer briefs. Standing over her, I grab her thighs, lift them to either side of my hips, and slam into her. Then still.
She cries out and opens her eyes.
She’s wet. Really wet.
And mine.
Our eyes stay on each other. Hers dazed and full of passion. And want. And need.
“Please,” she whispers, and I flex my ass and start to move. Grinding into her. My fingers grip her thighs and she crosses her legs behind me. Holding me. I rock into her. Back and forth. Back and forth. And as I get closer, I release her legs, which she tightens around me, and I lean over her, my hands on either side of her shoulders, my fingers crushing the red satin sheets. “Come on, baby. Again,” I shout, and my voice is almost unrecognizable to me.
Ana lets go, taking me with her. I come, long and hard, with a cry and it’s her name.
Ana.
I collapse beside her. Utterly. Spent.
As my reason returns, I lean up over her and unclip the wrist restraints and then pull her into my arms. “How was that?” I murmur.
I think she says “mind-blowing” before she closes her eyes and nestles into my arms. I grin and hold her close.
Nina is still singing her heart out. I find the remote on the bed and switch her off, letting silence fall over Ana and me and the playroom. “Well done, Ana Steele. I’m in awe of you,” I whisper, but she’s fast asleep…in the harness. I smile and kiss the top of head.
Ana, I love you and I love your inner freak.
Monday, July 18, 2011
It’s early and Bastille is his usual tyrannical self as we warm up. “Good cross. Again,” he shouts, his words a staccato.
I jab and land a punch on his palm pad.
“Again. Jab. Cross.”
I comply.
“Change hands. Leg back.”
My right leg is back and I’m in fight stance.
“Go.”
I throw my weight behind my right glove and the sound of leather slapping on leather echoes around the basement gym at Grey House.
“Good. Again. Keep going. We gotta keep you in shape, Grey. You gotta look good walking down the aisle.” He cackles.
Ignoring his tone, I rain blows on his palm pads.
“Cool. Good. Enough.”
I stop and catch my breath. I’m wired. Ready. Bouncing on my toes. Adrenaline flowing through my veins. I’m ready to strike. I’m on top of the fucking world.
“I think that’s enough warm-up. Let’s blow the corporate bullshit out of your brain.”
“You’re on, dude. You are going down.”
He flashes me a broad, bright grin as he slides his gloves over taped hands. “That’s fighting talk, Grey. You know, your girl is making fine progress. She’ll keep your ass in line. She’ll make one worthy opponent.”