Fifty Shades Trilogy 02 - Fifty Shades Darker

mouth.
    “Oh, I want you so much, baby,” he breathes, and steps back suddenly to remove his jeans and boxers in one swift, agile move. He is a fine, fine sight in or out of clothes, every single inch of him.
    He is perfect. His beauty desecrated only by his scars, I think sadly. And they run so much deeper than his skin.
    “What’s wrong, Ana?” he murmurs and gently strokes my cheek with his knuckles.
    “Nothing. Love me, now.”
    He pulls me into his arms, kissing me, twisting his hands into my hair. Our tongues entwined, he walks me backward to the bed and gently lowers me onto it, following me down so that he’s lying by my side.
    He runs his nose along my jawline as my hands move to his hair.
    “Do you have any idea how exquisite your scent is, Ana? It’s irresistible.”
    His words do what they always do—flame my blood, quicken my pulse—and he trails his nose down my throat, across my breasts, kissing me reverentially as he does.
    “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth and softly suckles.
    I moan as my body bows off the bed.
    “Let me hear you, baby.”
    His hand trails down to my waist, and I glory in the feel of his touch, skin to skin—his hungry mouth at my breasts and his skilled long fingers caressing and stroking me, cherishing me. Moving over my hips, over my behind, and down my leg to my knee, and all this time he’s kissing and sucking my breasts— oh my.
    Grasping my knee, he suddenly hitches my leg up, curling it over his hips, making me gasp, and I feel rather than see his responding grin against my skin. He rolls over so that I am astride him and hands me a foil packet.
    I shift back, taking him in my hands, and I just can’t resist him in all his glory. I bend and kiss him, taking him in my mouth, swirling my tongue around him, then sucking hard. He groans and flexes his hips so that he’s deeper in my mouth. 
    Mmm . . . he tastes good . I want him inside me. I sit up and gaze at him; he’s breathless, mouth open, watching me intently.  
    Hurriedly I tear open the condom and unroll it over him. He holds out his hands for me. I take one and with my other hand, position myself over him, then slowly claim him as mine.
    He groans low in his throat, closing his eyes.
    The feel of him in me . . . stretching . . . filling me —I moan softly— it’s divine. He places his hands on my hips and moves me up, down, and pushes into me. Oh . . . it’s so good.
    “Oh, baby,” he whispers, and suddenly he sits up so we’re nose to nose, and the sensation is extraordinary—so full. I gasp, grabbing his upper arms as he clasps my head in his hands and gazes into my eyes—his intense and gray, burning with desire.
    “Oh, Ana. What you make me feel,” he murmurs and kisses me passionately with fervent ardor. I kiss him back, dizzy with the delicious feeling of him buried deep inside me.
    “Oh, I love you,” I murmur. He groans as if pained to hear my whispered words and rolls over, taking me with him without breaking our precious contact, so that I’m lying beneath him. I wrap my legs around his waist.  
    He stares down at me with adoring wonder, and I am sure I mirror his expression as I reach up to caress his beautiful face. Very slowly, he starts to move, closing his eyes as he does and moaning softly.
    The gentle sway of the boat and the peace and quiet tranquility of the cabin are broken only by our mingled breaths as he moves slowly in and out of me, so controlled and so good—it’s heavenly. He puts his arm over my head, his hand on my hair, and he caresses my face with the other as he bends to kiss me.  
    I’m cocooned by him, as he loves me, slowly moving in and out, savoring me. I touch him—sticking to the boundaries—his arms, his hair, his lower back, his beautiful behind—and my breathing accelerates as his steady rhythm pushes me higher and higher. He’s kissing my mouth, my chin, my jaw, then nibbling my ear. I can hear his staccato breaths with each gentle thrust of his body.
    My body starts to quiver. Oh . . . This feeling that I now know so well . . . I am close . . . Oh . . .
    “That’s right, baby . . . give it up for me . . . Please . . . Ana,” he murmurs and his words are my undoing.
    “Christian,” I call out, and he groans as we both come together.

“Mac will be back soon,” he murmurs.
    “Hmm.” My eyes flicker open to meet his soft gray gaze. Lord, his eyes