And it happens...

“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.

My skin is burning. I’m flushed, too hot, too cold, and I’m clawing at the sheet beneath me. He lay 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,”

“You really want to do this?” he asks softly.

“Please,” I beg.

 “I’m going to fuck you now, Miss Steele,” “Hard,” he whispers, and he slams into me.

You okay?”


I nod, my eyes wide, my hands on his forearms. I feel so full. He stays still, letting me acclimatize to the intrusive, overwhelming feeling of him inside me.

“I’m going to move, baby,” he breathes after a moment, his voice tight.

Oh.

He eases back with exquisite slowness. And he closes his eyes and groans, and thrusts into me again. I cry out a second time, and he stills.

 “More?” he whispers, his voice raw.
“Yes,” I breathe. He does it once more, and stills again.
I groan. My body accepting him... Oh, I want this.

“Again?” he breathes. “Yes.” It’s a plea.

“I want you sore, baby,” he murmurs, and he continues his sweet, leisurely torment, backward, forward.

“Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I’ve been here. Only me. You are mine.”

I groan.

“Please, Christian,” I whisper.

“What do you want, Anastasia? Tell me.”

 “Tell me,” he murmurs.

“You, please.”

He increases the rhythm infinitesimally, and his breathing becomes more erratic. My insides start quickening, and Christian picks up the rhythm.

“You. Are. So. Sweet,” he murmurs between each thrust. “I. Want. You. So. Much.”

I moan.

“You. Are. Mine.

Oh my. That was extraordinary. Now I know what all the fuss is about. He gazes down at me, a satisfied smile on his face, while I’m sure there’s nothing but gratitude and awe on mine. I stretch out beside him, feeling loose-limbed, my bones like jelly, but I’m relaxed, deeply relaxed. I grin at him. I can’t stop grinning. Now I know what all the fuss is about.

Christian's POV