Book 3 - Page 160 (1/2)
”Please what?”
I gasp. ”Please, Sir.”
Christian places his hand over my ringing skin and rubs gently.
”There. There. There.” His words are soft. His hand moves south and around, and his fingers slide inside me.
I groan.
”Mrs. Grey,” he breathes, and his teeth pull at my earlobe. ”You're so ready.”
His fingers slide in and out of me, hitting that spot, that sweet, sweet spot again. The flogger clatters onto the floor and his hand moves over my belly and up to my br**sts. I tense. They are sensitive.
”Hush,” Christian says, cupping one, and he gently brushes his thumb over my nipple.
”Ah.”
His fingers are gentle and enticing, and pleasure spirals out from my breast, down, down . . . deep down. I tilt my head back, pus.h.i.+ng my nipple into his palm, and moan once more.
”I like to hear you,” Christian whispers. His erection is at my hip, the b.u.t.tons of his fly pressing into my flesh as his fingers continue their relentless a.s.sault: in, out, in, out - keeping a rhythm. ”Shall I make you come like this?” he asks.
”No.”
His fingers stop moving inside me.
”Really, Mrs. Grey? Is it up to you?” His fingers tighten around my nipple.
”No . . . No, Sir.”
”That's better.”
”Ah. Please,” I beg.
”What do you want, Anastasia?”
”You. Always.”
He inhales sharply.
”All of you,” I add, breathless.
He eases his fingers out of me, pulls me around to face him, and removes the blindfold. I blink up into darkening gray eyes that burn into mine. His index fingers trace my bottom lip, and he pushes his index and middle fingers into my mouth, letting me taste the salty tang of my arousal.
”Suck,” he whispers. I swirl my tongue around and between his fingers.