“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir,” she cries.
Slowly and with care, I lavish strokes, licks, and flicks over her stomach and her belly, down her body, toward my goal. With one flick, the leather tongue bites her clitoris and she shouts out in a gargled cry, “Oh, please!”
“Quiet,” I command, and reprimand her with a harder flick across her backside.
I skim the leather tongue down through her pubic hair, against her vulva to her vagina. The brown leather is glistening with her arousal when I pull it back. “See how wet you are for this, Anastasia. Open your eyes and your mouth.”
She’s breathing hard, but she parts her lips and stares at me, her eyes dazed and lost in the carnality of the moment. And I slip the keeper into her mouth. “See how you taste. Suck. Suck hard, baby.”
Her lips close around the tip and it’s like they’re around my dick.
Fuck.
She’s so fucking hot and I can’t resist her.
Easing the crop from her mouth, I wrap my arms around her. She opens her mouth for me as I kiss her, my tongue exploring her, reveling in the taste of her lust.
“Oh, baby, you taste mighty fine,” I whisper. “Shall I make you come?”
“Please,” she pleads.
One flick of my wrist and the crop smacks her behind. “Please, what?”
“Please, Sir,” she whimpers.
Good girl. I step back. “With this?” I ask, holding up the crop so she can see it.
“Yes, Sir,” she says, surprising me.
“Are you sure?” I can barely believe my luck.
“Yes, please, Sir.”
Oh, Ana. You fucking goddess.
“Close your eyes.”
She does as she’s told. And with infinite care and not a little gratitude, I rain quick, stinging licks over her belly once more. Soon she’s panting again, her arousal heightened. Moving south, I gently flick the leather tongue over her clitoris. Again. And again. And again.
She pulls at her restraints, moaning and moaning. Then she’s quiet and I know she’s close. Suddenly she throws her head back and mouth open and she screams her orgasm as it shudders through her entire body. Instantly I drop the crop and grab her, supporting her as her body dissolves. She sags against me.
Oh. We’re not done, Ana.
With my hands under her thighs, I lift her trembling body and carry her, still shackled to the grid, toward the Saint Andrew’s cross. There I release her, holding her upright, pinned between the cross and my shoulders. I tug my jeans, undoing all the buttons, and freeing my cock. Yanking a condom from my pocket, I rip the foil packet with my teeth and with one hand roll it over my erection.
Gently I pick her up again and whisper, “Lift your legs, baby, wrap them around me.” Supporting her back against the wood, I help her wrap her legs around my hips, her elbows resting on my shoulders.
You are mine, baby.
With one thrust I’m inside her.
Fuck. She’s exquisite.
I take a moment to savor her. Then I start to move, relishing each thrust. Feeling her, on and on, my own breathing labored as I gasp for air and lose myself in this beautiful woman. My mouth is open at her neck, tasting her. Her scent fills my nostrils, fills me. Ana. Ana. Ana. I don’t want to stop.
Suddenly she tenses, and her body convulses around me.
Yes. Again. And I let go. Filling her. Holding her. Revering her.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
She’s so beautiful. And sweet hell, was that mind-blowing.
I pull out of her, and as she collapses against me I quickly unbuckle her wrists from the grid and support her as we both sink to the floor. I cradle her between my legs, wrapping my arms around her, and she sags against me, her eyes closed, breathing hard.
“Well done, baby. Did that hurt?”
“No.” Her voice is barely audible.
“Did you expect it to?” I ask, and I push stray strands of her hair off her face so I can see her better.
“Yes.”
“You see? Most of your fear is in your head, Anastasia.” I caress her face. “Would you do it again?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer immediately, and I think she’s fallen asleep.
“Yes,” she whispers a moment later.
Thank you, sweet Lord.
I wrap her in my arms. “Good. So would I.” Again and again. Tenderly I kiss the top of her head and inhale. She smells of Ana and sweat and sex. “And I haven’t finished with you yet,” I assert. I’m so proud of her. She did it. She did everything I wanted.
She’s everything I want.
And suddenly I’m overwhelmed by an unfamiliar emotion that rocks through me, slicing through sinew and bone, leaving unease and fear in its wake.
She turns her head and starts to nuzzle my chest.
The darkness swells, startling and familiar, replacing my unease with a sense of dread. Every muscle in my body tenses. Ana blinks up at me with clear, unflinching eyes as I struggle to control my fear.
“Don’t,” I whisper. Please.
She leans back and peers at my chest.
Get control, Grey.
“Kneel by the door,” I order, uncurling around her.
Go. Don’t touch me.
Shakily she gets to her feet and stumbles over to the door, where she resumes her kneeling position.
I take a deep, centering breath.
What are you doing to me, Ana Steele?
I stand and stretch, calmer now.
As she kneels by the door, she looks every bit the ideal submissive. Her eyes are glazed; she’s tired. I’m sure she’s coming down from the adrenaline high. Her eyelids droop.
Oh, this will never do. You want her as a submissive, Grey. Show her what that means.
From my drawer of toys I fish out one of the cable ties I bought from Clayton’s, and a pair of scissors. “Boring you, am I, Miss Steele?” I ask, masking my sympathy. She startles awake and regards me guiltily. “Stand up,” I order.
Slowly she gets to her feet.
“You’re shattered, aren’t you?”
She nods with a bashful smile.
Oh, baby, you’ve done so well.
“Stamina, Miss Steele. I haven’t had my fill of you yet. Hold out your hands in front, as if you’re praying.”
A crease mars her forehead for a moment, but she presses her palms together and holds up her hands. I fasten the cable tie around her wrists. Her eyes flash to mine with recognition.
“Look familiar?” I give her a smile and run my finger around the plastic, checking that there’s enough room and it’s not too tight. “I have scissors here.” I bring them into her view. “I can cut you out of this in a moment.” She looks reassured. “Come.” Taking her clasped hands, I lead her to the far corner of the four-poster bed. “I want more—much, much more,” I whisper in her ear as she stares down at the bed. “But I’ll make this quick. You’re tired. Hold on to the post.”
Halting, she grasps the wooden pillar.
“Lower,” I order. She moves her hands down to the base until she’s bending over. “Good. Don’t let go. If you do, I’ll spank you. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” she says.
“Good.” I grab her hips and lift her toward me so she’s properly positioned, her beautiful behind in the air and at my disposal. “Don’t let go, Anastasia,” I warn her. “I’m going to fuck you hard from behind. Hold the post to support your weight. Understand?”