Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

pushes two fingers inside me.
    I gasp.
    “Ready for me so soon,” he says. He moves his fingers tantalizingly slowly, in, out, and I push against him, tilting my hips up.
    “You are a greedy girl,” he scolds softly, and his thumb circles my clitoris and then presses down.
    I groan loudly as my body bucks beneath his expert fingers. He reaches up and pushes the t-shirt over my head so I can see him as I blink in the soft light of my sidelight. I long to touch him.
    “I want to touch you,” I breathe.
    “I know,” he murmurs. He leans down and kisses me, his fingers still moving rhythmically inside me, his thumb circling and pressing. His other hand scoops my hair off my head and holds my head in place. His tongue mirrors the actions of his fingers, claiming me. My legs begin to stiffen as I push against his hand. He gentles his hand, so I’m brought back from the brink. He does this again and again. It’s so frustrating… Oh please, Christian, I scream in my head.
    “This is your punishment, so close and yet so far. Is this nice ?” he breathes in my ear. I whimper, exhausted, pulling against my restraint. I’m helpless, lost in an erotic torment.
    “Please,” I beg, and he finally takes pity on me.
    “How shall I fuck you, Anastasia?”
    Oh… my body starts to quiver. He stills again.
    “Please.”
    “What do you want, Anastasia?”
    “You… now,” I cry.
    “Shall I fuck you this way, or this way, or this way? There’s an endless choice,” he breathes against my lips. He withdraws his hand and reaches over to the bedside table for a foil packet. He kneels up between my legs, and very slowly he pulls my panties off, staring down at me, his eyes gleaming. He puts on the condom. I watch fascinated, mesmerized.
    “How nice is this?” he says as he strokes himself.
    “I meant it as a joke,” I whimper. Please fuck me, Christian.
    He raises his eyebrows as his hand moves up and down his impressive length.
    “A joke?” His voice is menacingly soft.
    “Yes. Please, Christian,” I beseech him.
    “Are you laughing now?”
    “No,” I mewl.
    I am just one ball of sexual, tense, need. He stares down at me for a moment, measuring my need, then he grabs me suddenly and flips me over. It takes me by surprise, and because my hands are tied, I have to support myself on my elbows. He pushes both my knees up the bed so my behind is in the air, and he slaps me hard. Before I can react, he plunges inside me. I cry out – from the slap and from his sudden assault, and I come instantly again and again, falling apart beneath him as he continues to slam deliciously into me. He doesn’t stop. I’m spent. I can’t take this… and he pounds on and on and on... then I’m building again… surely not… no…
    “Come on, Anastasia, again,” he growls through clenched teeth, and unbelievably, my body responds, convulsing around him as I climax anew, calling out his name. I shatter again into tiny fragments, and Christian stills, finally letting go, silently finding his release. He collapses on top of me, breathing hard.
    “How nice was that?” he asks through his gritted teeth.
    Oh my.
    I lie panting and spent on the bed, eyes closed as he slowly pulls out of me. He rises immediately and dresses. When he’s fully clothed, he climbs back on the bed and gently undoes his tie and pulls my t-shirt off. I flex my fingers and rub my wrists, smiling at the woven pattern imprinted on my wrists from the tie. I re-adjust my bra as he pulls the duvet and quilt over me. I stare up at him completely dazed, and he smirks down at me.
    “That was really nice,” I whisper, smiling coyly.
    “There’s that word again.”
    “You don’t like that word?”
    “No. It doesn’t do it for me at all.”
    “Oh – I don’t know… it seems to have a very beneficial effect on you.”
    “I’m a beneficial effect, now am I? Could you wound my ego any further, Miss Steele?”
    “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your ego.” But even as I say it, I don’t feel the conviction of my words - something elusive crosses my mind, a fleeting thought, but it’s lost before I can grasp it.
    “You think?” His voice is soft. He’s lying beside me, fully clothed, his head propped up on his elbow, and I am only wearing my bra.
    “Why don’t you like to be touched?”
    “I just don’t.” He reaches over and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. “So, that e-mail was your idea of a joke.”
    I smile apologetically