Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian (Fifty Shades 4) - Chapter 94
Go. Don’t touch me.
Shakily she gets to her feet and stumbles over to the door, where she resumes her kneeling position.
I take a deep, centering breath.
What are you doing to me, Ana Steele?
I stand and stretch, calmer now.
As she kneels by the door, she looks every bit the ideal submissive. Her eyes are glazed; she’s tired. I’m sure she’s coming down from the adrenaline high. Her eyelids droop.
Oh, this will never do. You want her as a submissive, Grey. Show her what that means.
From my drawer of toys I fish out one of the cable ties I bought from Clayton’s, and a pair of scissors. “Boring you, am I, Miss Steele?” I ask, masking my sympathy. She startles awake and regards me guiltily. “Stand up,” I order.
Slowly she gets to her feet.
“You’re shattered, aren’t you?”
She nods with a bashful smile.
Oh, baby, you’ve done so well.
“Stamina, Miss Steele. I haven’t had my fill of you yet. Hold out your hands in front, as if you’re praying.”
A crease mars her forehead for a moment, but she presses her palms together and holds up her hands. I fasten the cable tie around her wrists. Her eyes flash to mine with recognition.
“Look familiar?” I give her a smile and run my finger around the plastic, checking that there’s enough room and it’s not too tight. “I have scissors here.” I bring them into her view. “I can cut you out of this in a moment.” She looks reassured. “Come.” Taking her clasped hands, I lead her to the far corner of the four-poster bed. “I want more—much, much more,” I whisper in her ear as she stares down at the bed. “But I’ll make this quick. You’re tired. Hold on to the post.”
Halting, she grasps the wooden pillar.
“Lower,” I order. She moves her hands down to the base until she’s bending over. “Good. Don’t let go. If you do, I’ll spank you. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” she says.
“Good.” I grab her hips and lift her toward me so she’s properly positioned, her beautiful behind in the air and at my disposal. “Don’t let go, Anastasia,” I warn her. “I’m going to fuck you hard from behind. Hold the post to support your weight. Understand?”
“Yes.”
I smack her hard across her backside.
“Yes, Sir,” she says immediately.
“Part your legs.” I push my right foot against hers, widening her stance. “That’s better. After this, I’ll let you sleep.”
Her back is a perfect curve, each vertebra outlined from her nape to her fine, fine ass. I trace the line with my fingers. “You have such beautiful skin, Anastasia,” I say to myself. Bending over her, I follow the path my fingers have taken with tender kisses down her spine. As I do, I palm her breasts, trapping her nipples between my fingers, and tug. She writhes beneath me, and I plant a soft kiss at her waist, then suck and gently nip her skin while working her nipples.
She whimpers. I stop and stand back to admire the view, growing harder just looking at her. Reaching for a second condom from my pocket, I quickly kick my jeans off and open the foil packet. Using both hands, I wrap it around my cock.
I’d like to claim her ass. Now. But it’s too soon for that.
“You have such a captivating, sexy ass. What I’d like to do to it.” I stroke my hands over each cheek, fondling her, then slide two fingers inside her, stretching her.
She whimpers again.
She’s ready.
“So wet. You never disappoint, Miss Steele. Hold tight. This is going to be quick, baby.”
Clutching her hips, I position myself at the entrance of her vagina, then reach up, grab her braid, wind it around my wrist, and hold it tightly. With one hand on my cock and the other around her hair, I slide into her.
She. Is. So. Fucking. Sweet.
Slowly I slide out of her, then grip her hip with my free hand and tighten my hold on her hair.
Submissive.
I slam into her, forcing her forward with a cry.
“Hold on, Anastasia!” I remind her. If she doesn’t she might get hurt.
Breathless, she pushes back against me, bracing her legs.
Good girl.
Then I start pounding into her, eliciting small, strangled cries from her as she clings to the post. But she doesn’t back down. She pushes back.
Bravo, Ana.
And then I feel it. Slowly. Her insides curling around me. Losing control, I slam into her, and still. “Come on, Ana, give it to me,” I growl, as I come, hard, her release prolonging mine as I hold her up.
Gathering her in my arms, I lower us to the floor with Ana on top of me, both of us facing the ceiling. She’s utterly relaxed, exhausted no doubt; her weight a welcome comfort. I stare up at the karabiners, wondering if she’ll ever let me suspend her.
Probably not.
And I don’t care.
Our first time together in here, and she’s been a dream. I kiss her ear. “Hold up your hands.” My voice is husky. Slowly, she raises them as if they’re weighted with concrete, and I slide the scissors beneath the cable tie.
“I declare this Ana open.” I murmur, and snip, freeing her. She giggles, her body juddering against mine. It’s a strange and not unwelcome feeling that makes me grin.
“That is such a lovely sound,” I whisper as she rubs her wrists. I sit up so that she’s in my lap.
I love making her laugh. She doesn’t laugh enough.
“That’s my fault,” I admit to myself as I rub some life back into her shoulders and arms. She turns her face to me with a weary, searching look. “That you don’t giggle more often,” I clarify.