Chapter Eight #2
Still kneeling, he grasps my foot and undoes my Converse, pulling off my shoe and sock.
I raise myself up on my elbows to see what he’s doing.
I’m panting…wanting. He lifts my foot by the heel and runs his thumbnail up my instep.
It’s almost painful, but I feel the movement echoed in my groin.
I gasp. Not taking his eyes off mine, again he runs his tongue along my instep and then his teeth.
Shit. I groan. How can I feel this there?
I fall back onto the bed, moaning. I hear his soft chuckle.
“Oh, Ana, what I could do to you.” He removes my other shoe and sock, then stands and removes my jeans completely. I’m lying on his bed dressed only in my bra and panties, and he’s staring down at me.
“You’re very beautiful, Anastasia Steele. I can’t wait to be inside you.”
Holy shit. His words. He’s so seductive. He takes my breath away.
“Show me how you pleasure yourself.”
What? I frown.
“Don’t be coy, Ana, show me,” he says.
I shake my head. “I don’t know what you mean.” My voice is hoarse. I hardly recognize it, laced with desire.
“How do you make yourself come? I want to see.”
I shake my head and mumble, “I don’t.”
He raises his eyebrows, astonished, and his eyes darken, then he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that.
” His voice is soft and challenging—a delicious sensual threat.
He undoes the buttons of his jeans and slowly pulls them down, his eyes on mine.
He leans down over me and, grasping each of my ankles, quickly jerks my legs apart and crawls onto the bed between my legs.
He hovers over me while I squirm with need.
“Keep still,” he whispers, then leans down and kisses the inside of my thigh, trailing kisses up over the thin lacy material of my panties.
Oh, I can’t keep still. How can I not move? I wriggle beneath him.
“We’re going to have to work on keeping you still, baby.
” He skates kisses up my belly, and his tongue dips into my navel.
Still he’s heading north, kissing me across my torso.
My skin is burning. I’m flushed, too hot, too cold, and I’m clawing at the sheet beneath me.
He lies down beside me and his hand glides up from my hip, to my waist, and up to my breast. He gazes down at me, his expression unreadable, and gently cups my breast.
“You fit my hand perfectly, Anastasia,” he murmurs and dips his index finger into the cup of my bra and gently yanks it down, freeing my breast, but the underwire and fabric of the cup force it upward.
His finger moves to my other breast and repeats the process.
My breasts swell, and my nipples harden under his steady gaze. I am trussed up by my own bra.
“Very nice,” he whispers appreciatively, and my nipples harden further.
He blows very gently on one as his hand moves to my other breast, and his thumb slowly rolls the end of my nipple, elongating it.
I groan, feeling the sweet sensation all the way to my groin.
I am so wet. Oh, please, I beg internally as my fingers clasp the sheet tighter.
His lips close around my other nipple, and when he tugs, I nearly convulse.
“Let’s see if we can make you come like this,” he whispers, continuing his slow, sensual assault. My nipples bear the delicious brunt of his deft fingers and lips, setting alight every single nerve ending so that my whole body sings with sweet agony. He just doesn’t stop.
“Oh, please,” I beg, and I pull my head back, my mouth open as I groan, my legs stiffening. Holy hell, what’s happening to me?
“Let go, baby,” he murmurs. His teeth close around my nipple, and his thumb and finger pull hard, and I fall apart in his hands, my body convulsing and shattering into a thousand pieces. He kisses me deeply, his tongue in my mouth absorbing my cries.
Holy shit. That was extraordinary. Now I know what all the fuss is about. He gazes down at me, a satisfied smile on his face, while I’m sure there’s nothing but gratitude and awe on mine.
“You are very responsive,” he breathes. “You’re going to have to learn to control that, and it’s going to be so much fun teaching you how.” He kisses me again.
My breathing is still ragged as I come down from my orgasm. His hand moves down my waist, to my hips, and then cups me, intimately… Jeez. His finger slips through the fine lace and slowly circles around me—there. Briefly he closes his eyes, and his breathing hitches.
“You’re so deliciously wet. God, I want you.” He thrusts his finger inside me, and I cry out as he does it again and again. He palms my clitoris, and I cry out once more. He pushes inside me harder and harder still. I groan.
Suddenly, he sits up and tugs my panties off and throws them on the floor.
Pulling off his boxer briefs, his erection springs free.
Holy cow… He reaches over to his bedside table and grabs a foil packet, and then he moves between my legs, spreading them farther apart.
He kneels up and pulls a condom onto his considerable length. Oh no… Will it? How?
“Don’t worry,” he breathes, his eyes on mine. “You expand, too.” He leans down, his hands on either side of my head, so he’s hovering over me, staring down into my eyes, his jaw clenched, eyes burning. It’s only now that I register he’s still wearing his shirt.
“You really want to do this?” he asks softly.
“Please,” I beg.
“Pull your knees up,” he orders softly, and I’m quick to obey. “I’m going to fuck you now, Miss Steele,” he murmurs as he positions the head of his erection at the entrance of my sex. “Hard,” he whispers, and he slams into me.
“Aargh!” I cry as I feel a weird pinching sensation deep inside me as he rips through my virginity. He stills, gazing down at me, his eyes bright with ecstatic triumph.
His mouth is open slightly, and his breathing is harsh. He groans. “You’re so tight. You okay?”
I nod, my eyes wide, my hands on his forearms. I feel so full. He stays still, letting me acclimatize to the intrusive, overwhelming feeling of him inside me.
“I’m going to move, baby,” he says after a moment, his voice tight.
Oh.
He eases back with exquisite slowness. And he closes his eyes, groans, and thrusts into me again.
I cry out a second time, and he stills. “More?” he rasps, his voice raw.
“Yes.”
He does it once more and stills again.
I groan, my body accepting him… Oh, I want this.
“Again?” he breathes.
“Yes.” It’s a plea.
And he moves, but this time he doesn’t stop.
He shifts onto his elbows so I can feel his weight on me, holding me down.
He moves slowly at first, easing himself in and out of me.
And as I grow accustomed to the alien feeling, my hips move tentatively to meet his.
He speeds up. I moan, and he pounds on, picking up speed, merciless, a relentless rhythm, and I keep up, meeting his thrusts.
He grasps my head between his hands and kisses me hard, his teeth pulling at my lower lip again.
He shifts slightly, and I can feel something building deep inside me, like before.
I start to stiffen as he thrusts on and on.
My body quivers, bows; a sheen of sweat gathers over me.
Oh my… I didn’t know it would feel like this, didn’t know it could feel as good as this.
My thoughts are scattering… There’s only sensation…
Only him… Only me… Oh, please… I stiffen.
“Come for me, Ana,” he demands breathlessly, and I unravel at his words, exploding around him as I climax and splinter into a million pieces beneath him. And as he comes, he calls out my name, thrusting hard, then stilling as he empties himself into me.
I am still panting, trying to slow my breathing, my thumping heart, and my thoughts are in riotous disarray.
Wow…that was astounding. I open my eyes, and he has his forehead pressed against mine, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged.
Christian’s eyes flicker open and gaze down at me, dark but soft.
He’s still inside me. Leaning down, he gently presses a kiss against my forehead then slowly pulls out of me.
“Ooh.” I wince at the unfamiliarity.
“Did I hurt you?” Christian asks as he lies down beside me propped on one elbow. He tucks a stray strand of my hair behind my ear.
And I have to grin, widely. “You are asking me if you hurt me?”
“The irony is not lost on me.” He smiles sardonically. “Seriously, are you okay?” His eyes are intense, probing, demanding even.
I stretch out beside him, feeling loose-limbed, my bones like jelly, but I’m relaxed, deeply relaxed.
I grin at him. I can’t stop grinning. Now I know what all the fuss is about.
Two orgasms…coming apart at the seams, like the spin cycle on a washing machine, wow.
I had no idea what my body was capable of, could be wound so tightly and released so violently, so gratifyingly. The pleasure was indescribable.
“You haven’t answered me.” He’s frowning.
I grin up at him impishly. He looks glorious with his tousled hair, burning narrowed gray eyes, and serious, dark expression.
“I’d like to do that again,” I reply, feeling a little shy.
For a moment, I think I see a fleeting look of relief on his face, before the shutters come down, and he gazes at me through hooded eyes.
“Would you now, Miss Steele?” he says dryly.
He leans down and kisses me very gently at the corner of my mouth.
“Demanding little thing, aren’t you? Turn on your front. ”
I blink at him momentarily, then turn over. He unhooks my bra and runs his hand down my back to my behind.
“You really have the most beautiful skin.” He shifts so one of his legs pushes between mine, and he’s half lying across my back. I feel the buttons of his shirt pressing into me as he gathers my hair off my face and kisses my bare shoulder.
“Why are you wearing your shirt?” I ask.