She does.
“Now hug your knees.”
With a quizzical look at me, she draws her legs up and wraps her arms around her knees. Reaching down, I lift her chin and brush her lips with a soft, wet kiss before slipping the eye mask over her eyes.
“What’s the safe word, Anastasia?”
“Popsicle.”
“Good.” I snap the left cuff on around her left wrist, and the one attached to her right ankle around her right wrist. She yanks on both and realizes she’s unable to straighten her legs.
This is going to be intense.
For you. And for me.
“Now,” I whisper. “I’m going to fuck you till you scream.”
And I can’t wait.
She gasps, and I grab both her heels and tip her feet up so she falls backward onto the bed. I ease her ankles apart, and for a moment I enjoy the sight of her, open and helpless before me. Frankly, I could come over her right now. I’m tempted to. But I kneel down at her altar, and kiss my way up her inner thigh. She moans, pulling on the cuffs.
Careful, Ana. They will bite you.
“You’re going to have to absorb all the pleasure, Anastasia. No moving.” I shift so I can reach her bikini briefs, and run my lips over her taut belly. The string fastenings on both sides unravel with a simple tug, and her briefs are no more.
I kiss her belly, my tongue dipping into her navel.
“Ah!” Ana groans. Her breasts rise and fall rapidly, as I continue with my trail of wet kisses across her stomach.
“Shh,” I murmur. “You’re so beautiful, Ana.”
She moans, louder this time, and tugs against her metal restraints. “Argh!” she cries as she feels the bite of the cuffs while I continue my conquest of her body, kissing and grazing my teeth against her fragrant skin.
“You drive me crazy,” I whisper. “So I’m going to drive you crazy.” I kiss her breasts, my tongue, my lips, and my teeth provoking Ana’s passionate cries, her heavy breathing, her head thrashing from side to side. I roll each of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger and feel them harden and lengthen under my not-so-tender ministration. I suck hard around each nipple, leaving a telltale little mark each time.
She’s breathless now.
Trying to move.
She can’t.
She’s mine.
And I don’t stop.
“Christian,” she pleads, and I know I’m driving her crazy.
“Shall I make you come this way?” I blow on her nipple. “You know I can.” I take it in my mouth, sucking. Hard.
She cries out, a guttural cry of pleasure.
And I’m fully aroused.
Straining to be inside her.
“Yes,” she whimpers.
“Oh, baby, that would be too easy.”
“Oh, please.”
“Hush.” My teeth graze her chin, then I capture her mouth with mine, thrusting my tongue between her lips to meet hers. She tastes of Ana and fresh gin and tonic with a hint of lemon.
Delicious.
But she’s greedy. Kissing me back. Wanting more. And more.
Fuck. She tastes so good. She gives as good as she takes. Her head lifting off the sheets.
Oh, baby.
I release her lips and grasp her chin. “Still, baby. I want you still,” I whisper.
“I want to see you,” she breathes, desperate and needy.
“Oh, no, Ana. You’ll feel more this way.” I ease my hips forward, knowing we’re lined up, and ease my way inside her, just a little.
She can’t move.
And I ease back, teasing her.
“Ah! Christian, please!”
“Again?” I ask, and I don’t recognize my own voice.
“Christian!”
I push myself into her again, a little farther this time, but pull back and let my fingers tease her right nipple.
“No!” she wails in disappointment. She does not want me to withdraw.
“Do you want me, Anastasia?”
“Yes!” she cries.
“Tell me.” My voice is hoarse. I need to hear her say it, and I tease her with my cock once more. In. Out.
“I want you,” she whimpers. “Please.”
I love it when she begs.
“And have me you will, Anastasia.” I slam into her and she screams, pulling against the cuffs.
I know she’s helpless.
And I take full advantage. Stilling. Feeling her around me, then circling my hips. She groans.
“Why do you defy me, Ana?”
“Christian, stop.”
It’s not the safe word. I circle my hips once more, deep, deep inside her. Then pull out and slam into her once more.
Don’t come! I will myself. “Tell me. Why?” I need to know.
She cries out, and her pleasure is my pleasure.
“Tell me,” I plead.
“Christian!”
“Ana, I need to know.” I thrust into her once more.
Tell me. Please.
“I don’t know!” she wails. “Because I can! Because I love you! Please, Christian.”
I groan loudly, and finally let myself love her, cocooning her head beneath my hands as I claim her. Pleasure her. And pleasure myself. She’s fighting against the cuffs. Gasping. Keening. Building beneath me.
She’s close. I feel it.
She cries out.
“That’s it,” I grind out between gritted teeth. “Feel it, baby!”
Ana screams as she comes. And comes. And comes. Shattering beneath me. Her head back. Her mouth open. Her face screwed up. I kneel up, taking her with me, pulling her into my lap. Riding out her climax. Holding her tightly, burying my head against her neck as I let go.
FUCK!
My orgasm is relentless.
When I’m finally spent, I rip off her blindfold and kiss my wife.
Her eyelids. Her nose. Her cheeks.
Thank you, Ana.
She’s crying. I kiss the tracks of her tears while I cup her face. “I love you, Mrs. Grey,” I whisper. “Even though you make me so mad—I feel so alive with you.”
She’s exhausted—listless in my arms—so I lay her down on the bed and ease out of her. “No,” she mumbles, feeling the loss of contact, I think.