fifty-shades-of-grey

He spanks me twice more, and then he pulls at the small threads attached to the ballsand jerks them out of me suddenly. I almost climax – the feeling is out of this world. Movingswiftly, he gently turns me over. I hear rather see the rip of the foil packet, and then he’slying beside me. He seizes my hands, hoists them over my head, and eases himself ontome, into me, sliding slowly, filling me where the silver globes have been. I groan loudly.“Oh, baby,” he whispers as he moves back, forward, a slow sensual tempo, savoringme, feeling me.It is the most gentle he has ever been, and it takes no time at all for me to fall over theedge, spiraling into a delicious, violent, exhausting, orgasm. As I clench around him, it igniteshis release, and he slides into me, stilling, gasping out my name in desperate wonder.“Ana!”He’s silent and panting on top of me, his hands still entwined in mine above my head.Finally, he leans back and stares down at me.“I enjoyed that,” he whispers, and then kisses me sweetly.He doesn’t linger for more sweet kisses, but rises, covers me with the duvet, and disappearsinto the bathroom. On his return he’s carrying a bottle of white lotion. He sits besideme on the bed.“Roll over,” he orders, and begrudgingly I move on to my front.Honestly, all this fuss. I feel very sleepy.“Your ass is a glorious color,” he says approvingly, and he tenderly massages the coolinglotion into my pink behind.“Spill the beans, Grey,” I yawn.“Miss Steele, you know how to ruin a moment.”“We had a deal.”“How do you feel?”“Short changed.”He sighs, slides in beside me, and pulls me into his arms. Careful not to touch mystinging behind, we are spooning again. He kisses me very softly beside my ear.“The woman who brought me into this world was a crack-whore, Anastasia. Go tosleep.”Holy fuck… what does that mean?“Was?”“She’s dead.”“How long?”He sighs.“She died when I was four. I don’t really remember her. Carrick has given me somedetails. I only remember certain things. Please go to sleep.”“Goodnight, Christian.”“Goodnight, Ana.”And I slip into a dazed and exhausted sleep, dreaming of a four-year-old, gray-eyedboy in a dark, scary, miserable place.