fifty-shades-of-grey

holding my head in place. Very slowly he eases into me, pulling my hair at the sametime… oh the fullness. He eases out of me slowly, and his other hand grabs my hip, holdingtight, and then he slams into me, jolting me forward.“Hold on, Anastasia!” he shouts through clenched teeth.I grip harder round the post and push back against him as he continues his mercilessonslaught, again and again, his fingers digging into my hip. My arms are aching, mylegs feel uncertain, my scalp is getting sore from his tugging my hair… and I can feel agathering deep inside me. Oh no… and for the first time, I fear my orgasm… if I come…I’ll collapse. Christian continues to move roughly against me, in me, his breathing harsh,moaning, groaning. My body is responding… how? I feel a quickening. But suddenly,Christian stills, slamming really deep.“Come on, Ana, give it to me,” he groans, and my name on his lips sends me over theedge as I become all body and spiraling sensation and sweet, sweet release, and then completelyand utterly mindless.When sense returns, I’m lying on him. He’s on the floor, and I’m lying on top of him,my back to his front, and I’m staring at the ceiling, all post-coital, glowing, shattered. Oh…the karabiners, I think absently – I’d forgotten about those. Christian nuzzles my ear.“Hold up your hands,” he says softly.My arms feel like they’re made of lead, but I hold them up. He wields the scissors andpasses one blade under the plastic.“I declare this Ana open,” he breathes, and cuts the plastic.I giggle and rub my wrists as they’re freed. I feel his grin.“That is such a lovely sound,” he says wistfully. He sits suddenly, taking me with himso that I’m once more sitting in his lap.“That’s my fault,” he says and shifts me so that he can rub my shoulders and arms.Gently he massages some life back into my limbsWhat?I glance up at him behind me, trying to understand what he means.“That you don’t giggle more often.”“I’m not a great giggler,” I mumble sleepily.“Oh, but when it happens, Miss Steele, ‘tis a wonder and joy to behold.”“Very flowery, Mr. Grey,” I mutter, trying to keep my eyes open.His eyes soften, and he smiles.“I’d say you’re thoroughly fucked and in need of sleep.”“That wasn’t flowery at all,” I grumble playfully.He grins and gently lifts me off him and stands, gloriously naked. I wish momentarilythat I were more awake to really appreciate him. Picking up his jeans, he slides them backon, commando.“Don’t want to frighten Taylor, or Mrs. Jones for that matter,” he mutters.Hmm… they must know what a kinky bastard he is. The thought preoccupies me.He stoops to help me to my feet and leads me to the door, on the back of which hangs agrey waffle robe. He patiently dresses me as if I’m a small child. I don’t have the strengthto lift my arms. When I’m covered and respectable, he leans down and kisses me gently,his mouth quirks up in a smile.