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Page 30

 E.l. James

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“Oh, Ana, what I could do to you,” I whisper, as images of her writhing beneath me in my playroom flash through my mind: shackled to my four-poster bed, bent over the table—suspended from the cross. I could tease and torture her until she begged for release…the images make my jeans even tighter.
Hell.
Quickly I remove her other shoe and sock, and pull off her jeans. She’s almost naked on my bed, her hair framing her face perfectly, her long, pale legs stretched out in invitation before me. I have to make allowances for her inexperience. But she’s panting. Wanting. Her eyes fixed on me.
I’ve never fucked anyone in my bed before. Another first with Miss Steele.
“You’re very beautiful, Anastasia Steele. I can’t wait to be inside you.” My voice is gentle; I want to tease her some more, find out what she does know. “Show me how you pleasure yourself,” I ask, gazing intently down at her.
She frowns.
“Don’t be coy, Ana, show me.” Part of me wants to spank the shyness out of her.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Is she playing games?
“How do you make yourself come? I want to see.”
She remains mute. Clearly I’ve shocked her again. “I don’t,” she mutters finally, her voice breathless. I gaze at her in disbelief. Even I used to masturbate, before Elena sunk her claws into me.
She’s probably never had an orgasm—though I find this hard to believe. Whoa. I’m responsible for her first fuck and her first orgasm. I’d better make this good.
“Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that.” I’m going to make you come like a freight train, baby.
Hell—she’s probably never seen a naked man, either. Not taking my eyes off hers, I undo the top button on my jeans and ease them onto the floor, though I can’t risk taking my shirt off, because she might touch me.
But if she did…it wouldn’t be so bad…would it? Being touched?
I banish the thought before the darkness surfaces, and grasping her ankles, I spread her legs. Her eyes widen and her hands clench my sheets.
Yes. Keep your hands there, baby.
I crawl slowly up the bed, between her legs. She squirms beneath me.
“Keep still,” I tell her, and lean down to kiss the delicate skin of her inner thigh. I trail kisses up her thighs, over her panties, across her belly, nipping and sucking as I go. She writhes beneath me.
“We’re going to have to work on keeping you still, baby.”
If you’ll let me.
I’ll teach her to just absorb the pleasure and not move, intensifying every touch, every kiss, every nip. The thought alone is enough to make me want to bury myself in her, but before I do, I want to know how responsive she is. So far she hasn’t held back. She’s allowing me free rein over her body. She’s not hesitant at all. She wants this…she really wants this. I dip my tongue into her navel and continue my leisurely journey north, savoring her. I shift, lying beside her, one leg still between hers. My hand ghosts up her body, over her hip, up her waist, on to her breast. Gently I cup her breast, trying to gauge her reaction. She doesn’t stiffen. She doesn’t stop me…she trusts me. Can I extend her trust to letting me have complete dominion over her body…over her? The thought is exhilarating.
“You fit my hand perfectly, Anastasia.” Dipping my finger into her bra cup, I jerk it down, freeing her breast. The nipple is small, rose pink, and it’s already hard. I drag the cup down so that the fabric and underwire rest under her breast, forcing it upward. I repeat the process with the other cup and watch, fascinated, as her nipples grow under my steady gaze. Whoa…I haven’t even touched her yet.
“Very nice,” I whisper in awed appreciation, and blow gently on the nearest nipple, watching in delight as it hardens and extends. Anastasia closes her eyes and arches her back.
Keep still, baby, just absorb the pleasure, it will feel so much more intense.
Blowing on one nipple, I roll the other gently between my thumb and forefinger. She grasps the sheets tightly as I lean down and suck—hard. Her body bows again and she cries out.
“Let’s see if we can make you come like this,” I whisper, and I don’t stop. She starts to whimper.
Oh, yes, baby…feel this. Her nipples extend farther and she starts grinding her hips, around and around. Keep still, baby. I will teach you to keep still.
“Oh, please,” she begs. Her legs stiffen. It’s working. She’s close. I continue my lascivious assault. Concentrating on each nipple, watching her response, sensing her pleasure, is driving me to distraction. Lord, I want her.
“Let go, baby,” I murmur, and pull her nipple with my teeth. She cries out as she climaxes.
Yes! I move quickly to kiss her, capturing her cries in my mouth. She’s breathless and panting, lost in her pleasure…Mine. I own her first orgasm, and I’m ridiculously pleased by the thought.
“You’re very responsive. You’re going to have to learn to control that, and it’s going to be so much fun teaching you how.” I can’t wait…but right now, I want her. All of her. I kiss her once more and let my hand travel down her body, down to her vulva. I hold her, feeling her heat. Slipping my index finger through the lace of her panties, I slowly circle around her…fuck, she’s soaking.
“You’re so deliciously wet. God, I want you.” I thrust my finger inside her, and she cries out. She’s hot and tight and wet, and I want her. I thrust into her again, taking her cries into my mouth. I press my palm to her clitoris…pushing down…pushing around. She cries out and writhes beneath me. Fuck, I want her—now. She’s ready. Sitting up, I drag her panties off, then my boxers, and reach for a condom. I kneel up between her legs, pushing them farther apart. Anastasia watches me with—what? Trepidation? She’s probably never seen an erect penis before.
“Don’t worry. You expand, too,” I mutter. Stretching out over her, I put my hands on either side of her head, taking my weight on my elbows. God, I want her…but I check she’s still keen. “You really want to do this?” I ask.
For fuck’s sake, please don’t say no.
“Please,” she begs.
“Pull your knees up,” I instruct her. This’ll be easier. Have I ever been so aroused? I can barely contain myself. I don’t get it…it must be her.