Her fingers impatiently open the packet.
Her enthusiasm is arousing.
“Do you know how much you turn me on?”
“What? No. I…” She’s breathless.
“Well, you do. All the time.” I grab the packet from her hands and roll on the condom while staring at her. Her hair is cascading over the edge of the table and she’s staring up at me, her eyes brimming with want.
I move between her legs and lift her ass off the table, spreading her legs farther apart. “Keep your eyes open. I want to see you.” I take both her hands and slowly sink into her.
It takes all my willpower to keep my eyes open on hers. She’s exquisite.
Every fucking inch of her.
She closes her eyes and I thrust hard into her. “Open,” I urge, and I tighten my hold on her hands.
She cries out but opens her eyes. They are wild and blue and beautiful. Slowly I pull out of her, then sink into her again. She watches me.
Her eyes on me.
God, I love her.
I move faster. Loving her. The only way I really know how.
Her mouth opens, slack, wide, beautiful. And her legs tense around me.
This is going to be quick.
And she comes around me, taking me with her.
She calls out through her climax.
“Yes, Ana!” I cry. And come and come and come.
I collapse on her, release her hands, and rest my head on her chest. I close my eyes. She cradles my head, running her fingers through my hair as I catch my breath. I look up at her. “I’m not finished with you yet,” I whisper, and I kiss her and disengage myself.
Hastily, I do up my fly and lift her off the table.
We stand in the foyer holding each other. We’re under the careful watch of the women in my Madonna and Child paintings that line the walls.
I think they approve of my girl.
“Bed,” I whisper.
“Please,” she says. And I take her to bed and make love to her once more.
SHE COMES, RIDING ME hard, and I hold her upright as I watch her spiral out of control.
Fuck, it’s erotic.
She’s naked, her breasts bouncing, and I let go, climaxing inside her, my head back, my fingers digging into her hips. She flops down on my chest, panting hard.
As I recover my breath, I run my fingers down her back, dewy with her sweat.
“Satisfied, Miss Steele?”
She mumbles her agreement. Then she looks up at me; her expression is a little dazed, but she angles her head.
Shit. She’s going to kiss my chest.
I take a deep breath and she plants a soft, warm kiss on my chest.
It’s okay. The darkness is quiet. Or gone. I don’t know.
I relax and roll us onto our sides.
“Is sex like this for everyone? I’m surprised anyone ever goes out,” she says, with a sated smile.
She makes me feel ten feet tall. “I can’t speak for everyone, but it’s pretty damned special with you, Anastasia.” My lips touch hers.
“That’s because you’re pretty damned special, Mr. Grey.” She caresses my face.
“It’s late. Go to sleep.” I kiss her and pull her to me so that we’re spooning, her back to my front, and I tug up the comforter.
“You don’t like compliments.” Her voice is drifting. She’s tired.
No. I’m not used to them.
“Go to sleep, Anastasia.”
“I loved the house,” she mutters.
That means she might say yes. I grin into her hair and nuzzle her. “I love you. Go to sleep.”
And I close my eyes as her scent fills my nostrils.
A house. A wife. What more do I need? Please say yes, Ana.
FRIDAY, JUNE 17, 2011
* * *
Ana’s cry drags me from my sleep. Opening my eyes, I wake. She’s beside me and I think she’s asleep. “Flying too close,” she whimpers. The early-morning light bleeds pink and bright between the blinds, illuminating her hair. “Icarus,” she says.
Leaning up on my elbow, I check to see if she’s asleep. I haven’t heard her talk in her sleep for a while. She turns over so that she’s facing me. “Benefit of the doubt,” she says. And her face relaxes.
Benefit of the doubt?
Is this about me?
She said it yesterday. She said she was going to give me the benefit of the doubt.
It’s more than I deserve.
Much more than you deserve, Grey.
I plant a chaste kiss on her forehead, switch off the alarm before it wakes her, and get out of bed. I have an early-morning meeting to discuss Kavanagh’s fiber-optic requirements.
In the shower, I think about my schedule for the day. I have Kavanagh. Then I fly down to WSU via Portland with Ros. Drinks in the evening with Ana and her photographer friend.
And I’ll put an offer on that house today. Ana says she loved it. I grin as I rinse the shampoo from my hair.
Just give her time, Grey.
IN MY CLOSET, I slip on my pants and notice my jacket from yesterday slung over the chair. I fish through the pockets and grab Ana’s present. It still produces a tantalizing rattle.
I slip it into my inside pocket, pleased that it will rest close to my heart.
You’re getting sentimental in your old age, Grey.
SHE’S STILL CURLED UP asleep when I check on her before I leave. “Gotta go, baby.” I kiss her neck. She opens her eyes and turns over to face me. In her drowsy state, she smiles up at me, then her expression changes.
“What time is it?”
“Don’t panic. I have a breakfast meeting.”
“You smell good,” she whispers. She stretches out beneath me and encircles my neck with her hands. Her fingers trail in my hair. “Don’t go.”
“Miss Steele, are you trying to keep a man from an honest day’s work?”
She gives me a sleepy nod, her eyes a little dazed. Desire blooms in my body; she looks so damn sexy. Her smile is captivating and it takes all my self-control not to strip off my clothes and slip back into bed. “As tempting as you are, I have to go.” I kiss her and stand. “Laters, baby.” I leave before I change my mind and cancel the meeting.
Taylor looks troubled when I join him in the garage.
“Mr. Grey. I have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“My ex-wife called. My daughter may have appendicitis.”
“Is she in the hospital?”
“They’re admitting her now.”
“You should go.”
“Thank you. I’ll drop you at work first.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
TAYLOR IS DEEP IN thought when we pull up outside Grey House.
“Let me know how she is.”
“I may not be back until tomorrow morning.”
“It’s fine. Go. I hope Sophie’s okay.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I watch him zoom off. He’s seldom preoccupied…but this is family. Yes. Family comes first. Always.
Andrea is waiting for me when I step out of the elevator.
“Good morning, Mr. Grey. Taylor called. I’ll arrange a driver for you here and in Portland.”
“Good. Everyone here?
“Yes. In your boardroom.”