me through impossibly long lashes, his eyes a scorching smoky gray. His hands reach up and undo the button on my jeans, and he leisurely pulls down the zipper. Without taking his eyes off mine, his hands move beneath the waistband, skimming me and moving to my behind. His hands glide slowly down my backside to my thighs, removing my jeans as they go. I cannot look away. He stops and licks his lips, never breaking eye contact. He leans forward, running his nose up the apex between my thighs. I feel him. There.
“You smell so good,” he murmurs and closes his eyes, a look of pure pleasure on his face, and I practically convulse. He reaches up and tugs the duvet off the bed, then pushes me gently so I fall on to the mattress.
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 on to the bed, moaning. I hear his soft chuckle.
“Oh, Ana, what I could do to you,” he whispers. He removes my other shoe and sock, then stands and removes my jeans. 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 whispers.
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.
“I don’t,” I mumble. He raises his eyebrows, astonished for a moment, and his eyes darken, and he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that.” His voice is soft, challenging, a delicious sensual threat. He undoes the buttons of his jeans and slowly pulls his jeans down, his eyes on mine the whole time. 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. I am squirming with need.
“Keep still,” he murmurs, and then he leans down and kisses the inside of my thigh, trailing kisses up, over the thin lacy material of my panties, kissing me.
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 trails 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 trails 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 even more.
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 the sweet agony. He just