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Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

Titel: Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: James E. L.
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information.” His gray eyes blaze with speculation. After a moment, he gracefully climbs off the bed. “Don’t go away,” he says and exits the room.
    Trepidation lances through me, and I hug myself. What’s he doing? Does he have some evil plan? Crap. Suppose he returns with a cane, or some weird kinky implement? Holy shit, what will I do then? When he does return, he’s holding something small in his hands. I can’t see what it is, and I’m burning with curiosity.
    “When’s your first interview tomorrow?” he asks softly.
    “Two.”
    A slow wicked grin spreads across his face.
    “Good.” And before my eyes, he subtly changes. He’s harder, intractable... hot. This is Dominant Christian.
    “Get off the bed. Stand over here.” He points to beside the bed, and I scramble up and off in double-quick time. He stares intently down at me, his eyes glittering with promise. “Trust me?” he asks softly.
    I nod. He holds out his hand, and in his palm are two round, shiny, silver balls, linked with a thick black thread.
    “These are new,” he says emphatically.
    I look questioningly up at him.
    “I am going to put these inside you, and then I’m going to spank you, not for punishment, but for your pleasure and mine.” He pauses, gauging my wide-eyed reaction.
    Inside me! I gasp, and all the muscles deep in my belly clench. My inner goddess is doing the dance of the seven veils.
    “Then we’ll fuck, and if you’re still awake, I’ll impart some information about my formative years. Agreed?”
    He’s asking my permission! Breathlessly, I nod. I’m incapable of speech.
    “Good girl. Open your mouth.”
    Mouth?
    “Wider.”
    Very gently, he puts the balls in my mouth.
    “They need lubrication. Suck,” he orders, his voice soft.
    The balls are cold, smooth, surprisingly heavy, and metallic tasting. My dry mouth pools with saliva as my tongue explores the unfamiliar objects. Christian’s gray gaze does not leave mine. Holy hell, this is turning me on. I squirm slightly.
    “Keep still, Anastasia,” he warns.
    “Stop.” He tugs them from my mouth. Moving toward the bed, he throws the duvet aside and sits down on the edge.
    “Come here.”
    I stand in front of him.
    “Now turn round, bend down, and grasp your ankles.”
    I blink at him, and his expression darkens.
    “Don’t hesitate,” he admonishes me softly, an undercurrent in his voice, and he pops the balls in his mouth.
    Fuck, this is sexier than the toothbrush. I follow his orders immediately. Jeez, can I touch my ankles? I find I can, with ease. The t-shirt slides up my back, exposing my behind. Thank heavens I have retained my panties, but I suspect I won’t for long.
    He places his hand reverently on my backside and very softly caresses it with his whole hand. With my eyes open, I can see his legs through mine, nothing else. I close my eyes tightly as he gently moves my panties to the side and slowly runs his finger up and down my sex. My body braces itself in a heady mix of wild anticipation and arousal. He slides one finger inside me, and he circles it deliciously slowly. Oh, it feels good. I moan.
    His breathing halts and I hear him gasp as he repeats the motion. He withdraws his finger and very slowly inserts the objects, one slow, delicious ball at a time. Oh my. They’re body temperature, warmed by our collective mouths. It’s a curious feeling. Once they’re inside me, I can’t really feel them – but then again I know they’re there.
    He straightens my panties and leans forward, and his lips softly kiss my behind.
    “Stand up,” he orders, and shakily I get to my feet.
    Oh! Now I can feel them… sort of. He grasps my hips to steady me while I reestablish my equilibrium.
    “You okay?” he asks, his voice stern.
    “Yes.” My answer is feather soft.
    “Turn round.” I turn and face him.
    The balls pull downward and involuntarily I clench around them. The feeling startles me but not in a bad way.
    “How does that feel?” he asks.
    “Strange.”
    “Strange good or strange bad?”
    “Strange good,” I confess, blushing.
    “Good.” There’s a trace of humor lurking in his eyes.
    “I want a glass of water. Go and fetch one for me please.”
    Oh.
    “And when you come back, I shall put you across my knee. Think about that, Anastasia.”
    Water? He wants water – now – why?
    As I leave the bedroom, it becomes abundantly clear why he wants me to walk around – as I do, the balls weigh down inside me,

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