Fifty Shades Trilogy 02 - Fifty Shades Darker

longing.
    “Mmm. Tastes even better off you, Miss Steele.”
    I pull against my restraints and the bed creaks ominously, but I don’t care—I’m burning with desire, it’s consuming me. He takes another spoonful and lets the ice cream dribble onto my breasts. Then with the back of the spoon, he spreads it over each breast and nipple.  
    Oh . . . it’s cold . Each nipple peaks and hardens beneath the cool of the vanilla.
    “Cold?” Christian asks softly and bends to lick and suckle all the ice cream off me once more, his mouth hot compared to the cool of the ice.  
    Oh my. It’s torture. As it starts to melt, the ice cream runs off me in rivulets on to the bed. His lips continue their slow torture, sucking hard, nuzzling, softly— Oh please !—I’m panting.
    “Want some?” And before I can confirm or deny his offer, his tongue is in my mouth, and it’s cold and skilled and tastes of Christian and vanilla. Delicious.  
    And just as I am getting used to the sensation, he sits up again and trails a spoonful of ice cream down the center of my body, across my stomach, and into my navel where he deposits a large dollop of ice cream. Oh, this is chillier than before, but weirdly it burns .
    “Now, you’ve done this before.” Christian’s eyes shine. “You’re going to have to stay still, or there will be ice cream all over the bed.” He kisses each of my breasts and sucks each of my nipples hard, then follows the line of ice cream down my body, sucking and licking as he goes.
    And I try, I try to stay still despite the heady combination of cold and his inflaming touch. But my hips start to move involuntarily, gyrating to their own rhythm, caught up in his cool vanilla spell. He shifts lower and starts eating the ice cream in my belly, swirling his tongue into and around my navel.
    I moan. Holy cow. It’s cold, it’s hot, it’s tantalizing, but he doesn’t stop. He trails the ice cream further down my body, into my pubic hair, on to my clitoris. I cry out, loudly.
    “Hush now,” Christian says softly as his magical tongue sets to work lapping up the vanilla, and now I’m keening quietly.
    “Oh . . . please . . . Christian.”
    “I know, baby, I know,” he breathes as his tongue works its magic. He doesn’t stop, just doesn’t stop, and my body is climbing—higher, higher. He slips one finger inside me, then another and he moves them with agonizing slowness in and out.
    “Just here,” he murmurs, and he rhythmically strokes the front wall of my vagina while he continues the exquisite, relentless licking and sucking. Holy fucking cow.  
    I erupt unexpectedly into a mind-blowing orgasm that stuns all my senses, obliterating all that’s happening outside of my body as I writhe and groan. Jeez, that was so quick.  
    I am vaguely aware that he has stopped his ministrations. He’s hovering over me, sliding on a condom, and then he’s inside me, hard and fast.
    “Oh yes!” He groans as he slams into me. He’s sticky—the residual melted ice cream spreading between us. It’s a strangely distracting sensation, but one I can’t dwell on for more than a few seconds as Christian suddenly pulls out of me and flips me over.
    “This way,” he murmurs and abruptly is inside me once more, but he doesn’t start his usual punishing rhythm straight away. He leans over, releases my hands, and pulls me upright so I am practically sitting on him. His hands move up to my breasts, and he palms them both, tugging gently on my nipples. I groan, tossing my head back against his shoulder. He nuzzles my neck, biting down, as he flexes his hips, deliciously slowly, filling me again and again.
    “Do you know how much you mean to me?” he breathes against my ear.
    “No,” I gasp.
    He smiles against my neck, and his fingers curl around my jaw and throat, holding me fast for a moment.
    “Yes, you do. I’m not going to let you go.”
    I groan as he picks up speed.
    “You are mine, Anastasia.”
    “Yes, yours,” I pant.
    “I take care of what’s mine,” he hisses and bites my ear.
    I cry out.
    “That’s right, baby, I want to hear you.” He snakes one hand around my waist while his other hand grasps my hip, and he pushes into me harder, making me cry out again. And the punishing rhythm starts. His breathing grows harsher and harsher, ragged, matching mine. I feel the familiar quickening deep inside. Jeez again !
    I am just sensation. This is what he does to me—takes my body and