flexes over my neck, and it’s slick with sweet-smelling oil so his hand glides smoothly

down my throat, across my clavicle, and up to my shoulder, his fingers kneading gently as

they go. Oh, I’m getting a massage. Not what I expected.

He places his other hand on my other shoulder and begins another slow teasing journey

across my clavicle. I groan softly as he works his way down toward my increasingly aching

breasts, aching for his touch. It’s tantalizing. I arch my body further into his deft touch, but

his hands glide to my sides, slow, measured, in time to the beat of the music, and studiously

avoid my breasts. I groan, but I don’t know if it’s from pleasure or frustration.

“You are so beautiful, Ana,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, his mouth next

to my ear. His nose follows along my jaw as he continues to massage me—beneath my

breasts, across my belly, down . . . He kisses me fleetingly on my lips, then he runs his nose

down my neck, my throat. Holy cow, I’m on fire . . .his nearness, his hands, his words.

“And soon you’ll be my wife to have and to hold,” he whispers.

Oh my.

“To love and to cherish.”

Jeez.

“With my body, I will worship you.”

I tip my head back and moan. His fingers run through my pubic hair, over my sex, and

he rubs the palm of his hand against my clitoris.

“Mrs. Grey,” he whispers as his palm works against me.

I groan.

“Yes,” he breathes as his palm continues to tease me. “Open your mouth.”

My mouth is already open from panting. I open wider, and he slips a large cool metal

object between my lips. Shaped like an oversized baby’s pacifier, it has small grooves or

carvings, and what feels like a chain at the end. It’s big.

“Suck,” he commands softly. “I’m going to put this inside you.”

Inside me? Inside me where?My heart lurches into my mouth.

“Suck,” he repeats and he stops palming me.

No. Don’t stop, I want to shout, but my mouth is full. His oiled hands glide back up my

body and finally cup my neglected breasts.

“Don’t stop sucking.”

Gently he rolls my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, and they harden and

lengthen under his expert touch, sending synaptic waves of pleasure all the way to my

groin.

“You have such beautiful breasts, Ana,” he murmurs and my nipples harden further in

response. He murmurs his approval and I moan. His lips move down from my neck toward

one breast, trailing soft bites and sucks over and over, down toward my nipple, and sud-

denly I feel the pinch of the clamp.

“Ah!” I garble my groan through the device in my mouth. Holy cow, the feeling is ex-

quisite, raw, painful, pleasurable . . . oh—the pinch. Gently, he laves the restrained nipple

with his tongue, and as he does so, he applies the other. The bite of the second clamp is

equally harsh . . . but just as good. I groan loudly.

“Feel it,” he whispers.

Oh, I do. I do. I do.

“Give me this.” He tugs gently on the ornate metal pacifier in my mouth, and I release

it. His hands once more trail down my body, toward my sex. He’s re-oiled his hands. They

glide around to my backside.

I gasp. What’s he going to do? I tense up on my knees as he runs his fingers between

my buttocks.

“Hush, easy,” he breathes close to my ear and kisses my neck as his fingers stroke and

tease me.

What’s he going to do?His other hand glides down my belly to my sex, palming me

once more. He eases his fingers inside me, and I moan loudly, appreciatively.

“I’m going to put this inside you,” he murmurs. “Not here.” His fingers trail between

my buttocks, spreading oil. “But here.” He moves his fingers round and round, in and out,

hitting the front wall of my vagina. I moan and my restrained nipples swell.

“Ah.”

“Hush now.” Christian removes his fingers and slides the object into me. He cups my

face and kisses me, his mouth invading mine, and I hear a very faint click. Instantly the

plug inside me starts to vibrate— down there!I gasp. The feeling is extraordinary—beyond

anything I’ve felt before.

“Ah!”

“Easy,” Christian calms me, stifling my gasps with his mouth. His hands move down

and tug very gently on the clamps. I cry out loudly.

“Christian, please!”

“Hush, baby. Hang in there.”

This is too much—all this overstimulation, everywhere. My body starts to climb, and

on my knees, I’m unable to control the buildup. Oh my . . .Will I be able to handle this?

“Good girl,” he soothes.

“Christian,” I pant, sounding desperate even to my own ears.

“Hush, feel it, Ana. Don’t be afraid.” His hands are now on my waist, holding me, but I

can’t concentrate on his hands, what’s inside me, and the clamps, too. My body is building,

building to an explosion—with the relentless vibrations and the sweet, sweet torture of my

nipples. Holy hell.It will be too intense. His hands move from my hips, down and around,

slick and oiled, touching, feeling, kneading my skin—kneading my behind.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs and suddenly he gently pushes an anointed finger inside

me . . . there!Into my backside. Fuck.It feels alien, full, forbidden . . . but oh . . . so . . .

good. And he moves slowly, easing in and out, while his teeth graze my upturned chin.

“So beautiful, Ana.”

I’m suspended high—high above a wide, wide ravine, and I’m soaring then falling

giddily at the same time, plunging to the Earth. I can hold on no more, and I scream as

my body convulses and climaxes at the overwhelming fullness. As my body explodes, I’m

nothing but sensation—everywhere. Christian releases first one and then the other clamp,

causing my nipples to sing with a surge of sweet, sweet painful feeling, but it’s oh-so-

good and causing my orgasm, this orgasm, to go on and on. His finger stays where it is,

gently easing in and out.

“Argh!” I cry out, and Christian wraps himself around me, holding me, as my body

continues to pulse mercilessly inside.

“ No!” I shout again, pleading, and this time he tugs the vibrator out of me, and his

finger, too, as my body continues to convulse.

He unstraps one of the cuffs so that my arms fall forward. My head lolls on his shoul-

der, and I am lost, lost to all this overwhelming sensation. I’m all shattered breath, ex-

hausted desire and sweet, welcome oblivion.

Vaguely, I’m aware that Christian lifts me, carries me over to the bed, and lays me

down on the cool satin sheets. After a moment, his hands, still oiled, gently rub the backs

of my thighs, my knees, my calves, and my shoulders. I feel the bed dip as he stretches out

beside me.

He pulls the mask off, but I don’t have the energy to open my eyes. Finding my braid

he undoes the hair tie and leans forward, kissing me softly on my lips. Only my erratic

breathing disturbs the silence in the room and steadies as I float gently back to Earth. The

music has stopped.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs.

When I persuade one eye to open, he’s gazing down at me, smiling softly.

“Hi,” he says. I manage a grunt in response, and his smile broadens. “Rude enough for

you?”

I nod and give him a reluctant grin. Jeez, any ruder and I’d have to spank the pair of us.

“I think you’re trying to kill me,” I mutter.

“Death by orgasm.” He smirks. “There are worse ways to go,” he says but then frowns

ever so slightly as an unpleasant thought crosses his mind. It distresses me. I reach up and

caress his face.

“You can kill me like this anytime,” I whisper. I notice that he’s gloriously naked and