Grabbing the end of my sweats, he tugs abruptly so that they come off in one swift move.

I’m naked underneath, sprawled across his bed. Waiting. Wanting. His eyes drink me in,

and slowly he removes his remaining clothes, not taking his eyes off me.

“You are one beautiful woman, Anastasia,” he murmurs appreciatively.

Hmm . . . I tilt my head coquettishly to one side and beam at him.

“You are one beautiful man, Christian, and you taste mighty fine.”

He gives me a wicked grin and reaches for the spreader bar. Grabbing my left ankle, he

quickly cuffs it, strapping the buckle tightly, but not too tight. He tests how much room I

have by sliding his little finger between the cuff and my ankle. He doesn’t take his eyes off

mine; he doesn’t need to see what he’s doing. Hmm . . . he’s done this before.

“We’ll have to see how you taste. If I recall, you’re a rare, exquisite delicacy, Miss

Steele.”

Oh.

Grasping my other ankle, he quickly and efficiently cuffs that one as well, so that my

feet are about two feet apart.

“The good thing about this spreader is, it expands,” he murmurs. He clicks something

on the bar, then pushes, so my legs spread further. Whoa, three feet apart. My mouth drops

open, and I take a deep breath. Fuck, this is hot. I’m on fire, restless and needy.

Christian licks his lower lip.

“Oh, we’re going to have some fun with this, Ana.” Reaching down he grasps the bar

and twists it so I flip on to my front. It takes me by surprise.

“See what I can do to you?” he says darkly and twists it again abruptly, so I am once

more on my back, gaping up at him, breathless.

“These other cuffs are for your wrists. I’ll think about that. Depends if you behave or

not.”“When do I not behave?”

“I can think of a few infractions,” he says softly, running his fingers up the soles of my

feet. It tickles, but the bar holds me in place, though I try to writhe away from his fingers.

“Your Blackberry, for one.”

I gasp. “What are you going to do?”

“Oh, I never disclose my plans.” He smirks, his eyes alight with pure devilment.

Holy cow.He’s so mind-bogglingly sexy, it takes my breath away.

He crawls up the bed so that he’s kneeling between my legs, gloriously naked, and I’m

helpless.

“Hmm. You are so exposed, Miss Steele.” He runs the fingers of both his hands up the

inside of each of my legs, slowly, surely, making small circular patterns. Never breaking

eye contact with me.

“It’s all about anticipation, Ana. What will I do to you?” His softly spoken words pen-

etrate right to the deepest, darkest, part of me. I wriggle on the bed and moan. His fingers

continue their slow assault up my legs, past the backs of my knees. Instinctively, I want to

close my legs but I can’t.

“Remember, if you don’t like something, just tell me to stop,” he murmurs. Bending

over, he kisses my belly, soft, sucky kisses while his hands continue their slow tortuous

journey north up my inner thighs, touching and teasing.

“Oh please, Christian,” I plead.

“Oh, Miss Steele. I’ve discovered you can be merciless in your amorous assaults upon

me. I think I should return the favor.”

My fingers clutch the duvet as I surrender myself to him, his mouth gently heading

south, his fingers north, to the vulnerable and exposed apex of my thighs. I groan as he eas-

es his fingers inside me and buck my pelvis up to meet them. Christian moans in response.

“You never cease to amaze me, Ana. You’re so wet,” he murmurs against the line

where my pubic hair joins my belly. My body bows as his mouth finds me.

Oh my.

He begins a slow and sensual assault, his tongue swirling around and around while his

fingers move inside me. Because I can’t close my legs, or move, it’s intense, really intense.

My back arches as I try to absorb the sensations.

“Oh, Christian,” I cry.

“I know, baby,” he whispers, and to ease up on me, he blows softly on the most sensi-

tive part of my body.

“Arrgh! Please!” I beg.

“Say my name,” he commands.

“Christian,” I call, hardly recognizing my own voice—it’s so high-pitched and needy.

“Again,” he breathes.

“Christian, Christian, Christian Grey,” I call out loudly.

“You are mine.” His voice is soft and deadly and with one last flick of his tongue, I

fall—spectacularly—embracing my orgasm, and because my legs are so far apart, it goes

on and on and I am lost.

Vaguely, I’m aware that Christian has flipped me on to my front.

“We’re going to try this, baby. If you don’t like it, or it’s too uncomfortable, tell me,

and we’ll stop.”

What? I am too lost in the afterglow to form any sentient or coherent thoughts. I am

sitting on Christian’s lap. How did that happen?

“Lean down, baby,” he murmurs at my ear. “Head and chest on the bed.”

In a daze I do as I’m told. He pulls both my hands backward and cuffs them to the bar,

next to my ankles. Oh . . .My knees are drawn up, my ass in the air, utterly vulnerable,

completely his.

“Ana, you look so beautiful.” His voice is full of wonder, and I hear the rip of foil. He

runs his fingers from the base of my spine down toward my sex and pauses a beat over my

ass. “When you’re ready, I want this, too.” His finger is hovering over me. I gasp loudly as

I feel myself tense under his gentle probing. “Not today, sweet Ana, but one day . . . I want

you every way. I want to possess every inch of you. You’re mine.”

I think about the butt plug, and everything tightens deep inside me. His words make me

groan, and his fingers move down and around to more familiar territory.

Moments later, he’s slamming into me. “Aagh! Gently,” I cry, and he stills.

“You okay?”

“Gently . . . let me get used to this.”

He eases slowly out of me then eases gently back, filling me, stretching me, twice,

thrice, and I am helpless.

“Yes, good, I’ve got it now,” I murmur, relishing the feeling.

He groans, and picks up his rhythm. Moving, moving . . . relentless . . . onward, in-

ward, filling me . . . and it’s exquisite. There’s joy in my helplessness, joy in my surrender

to him, and to know that he can lose himself in me the way he wants to. I can do this. He

takes me to these dark places, places I didn’t know existed, and together we fill them with

blinding light. Oh yes . . . blazing, blinding light.

And I let go, glorying in what he does to me, finding my sweet, sweet release, as I come

again, loudly, screaming his name. And he stills, pouring his heart and soul into me.

“Ana, baby,” he cries and collapses beside me.

His fingers deftly undo the straps, and he rubs my ankles then my wrists. When he’s fin-

ished and I’m finally free, he pulls me into his arms and I drift, exhausted.

When I surface again, I am curled beside him and he’s gazing at me. I have no idea

what the time is.

“I could watch you sleep forever, Ana,” he murmurs and he kisses my forehead.

I smile and shift languorously beside him.

“I never want to let you go,” he says softly and wraps his arms around me.

Hmm.“I never want to go. Never let me go,” I mutter sleepily, my eyelids refusing to

open.“I need you,” he whispers, but his voice is a distant, ethereal part of my dreams. He

needs me . . . needs me . . . and as I finally slip into the darkness, my last thoughts are of a

small boy with gray eyes and dirty, messy, copper-colored hair smiling shyly at me.

Hmm.

Christian is nuzzling my neck as I slowly wake.