fifty-shades-of-grey

advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth. I have never been kissed like this.My tongue tentatively strokes his and joins his in a slow erotic dance that’s all about touchand sensation, all bump and grind. He brings his hand up to grasp my chin and holds mein place. I am helpless, my hands pinned, my face held, and his hips restraining me. . I feelhis erection against my belly. Oh my… He wants me. Christian Grey, Greek god, wantsme, and I want him, here… now, in the elevator.“You. Are. So. Sweet,” he murmurs, each word a staccato.The elevator stops, the doors open, and he pushes away from me in the blink of an eye,leaving me hanging. Three men in business suits look at both of us and smirk as they climbon board. My heart rate is through the roof, I feel like I’ve run an uphill race. I want tolean over and grasp my knees… but that’s just too obvious.I glance up at him. He looks so cool and calm, like he’s been doing the Seattle Timescrossword. How unfair. Is he totally unaffected by my presence? He glances at me outof the corner of his eye, and he gently blows out a deep breath. Oh, he’s affected all right– and my very small inner goddess sways in a gentle victorious samba. The businessmenexit on the second floor. We have one more floor to travel.“You’ve brushed your teeth,” he says, staring at me.“I used your toothbrush,” I breathe.His lips quirk up in a half smile.“Oh, Anastasia Steele, what am I going to do with you?”The doors open at the first floor, and he takes my hand and pulls me out.“What is it about elevators?” he mutters, more to himself than to me as he stridesacross the lobby. I struggle to keep pace with him because my wits have been thoroughly,royally, scattered all over the floor and walls of elevator three in the Heathman Hotel.