Fifty Shades Book 1 - Page 82

"Feel this. See how much your body likes this, Anastasia. You're soaking just for me."

There is awe in his voice. He moves his fingers, in and out in quick succession.

I groan, no surely not, and then his fingers are gone... and I'm left wanting.

"Next time, I will get you to count. Now where's that condom?"

He reaches beside him for the condom and lifts me gently, pus.h.i.+ng me face down onto the bed. I hear the sound of his zipper and the rip of the foil. He drags my sweatpants off and then guides me into a kneeling position, gently caressing my now very sore behind.

"I'm going to take you now. You can come," he murmurs.

WhatLike I have a choice.

And he's inside me, quickly filling me, I moan loudly. He moves, pounding into me, a fast, intense pace against my sore behind. The feeling is beyond exquisite, raw and debas-ing and mind blowing. My senses are ravaged, disconnected, solely concentrating on what he's doing to me. How he's making me feel, that familiar pull deep in my belly, tightening, quickening. NO... and my traitorous body explodes in an intense, body-shattering o.r.g.a.s.m.

"Oh, Ana!" he cries out loudly as he finds his release, holding me in place as he pours himself into me. He collapses, panting hard beside me, and he pulls me on top of him and buries his face in my hair, holding me close.

"Oh, baby," he breathes. "Welcome to my world."

We lie there, panting together, waiting for our breathing to slow. He gently strokes my hair. I'm on his chest again. But this time, I don't have the strength to lift my hand and feel him. Boy... I survived. That wasn't so bad. I'm more stoic than I thought. My inner G.o.ddess is prostrate... well at least she's quiet. Christian nuzzles my hair again, inhaling deeply.

"Well done, baby," he whispers, quiet joy in his voice. His words curl around me like a soft fluffy towel from the Heathman Hotel, and I'm so pleased that he's happy.

He picks at the strap on my camisole.

"Is this what you sleep in?" he asks gently.

"Yes," I breathe sleepily.

"You should be in silks and satins, you beautiful girl. I'll take you shopping."

"I like my sweats," I murmur, trying and failing to sound irritated.

He kisses my head again.

"We'll see," he says.

We lie for a few more minutes, hours, who knows, and I think I doze.

"I have to go," he says, and leaning down, he kisses my forehead gently. "Are you okay?" His voice is soft.

I think about his question. My backside is sore. Well, glowing now, and amazingly I feel, apart from exhausted, radiant. The realization is humbling, unexpected. I don't understand. Holy s.h.i.+t.

"I'm okay," I whisper. I don't want to say more than that.

He rises.

"Where's your bathroom?"

"Along the corridor to the left."

He scoops up the other condom and heads out of the bedroom. I rise stiffly and put my sweatpants back on. They chafe a little against my still-smarting behind. I'm so confused by my reaction. I remember him saying - I can't remember when - that I would feel so much better after a good hiding. How can that be so I really don't get it. But strangely, I do. I can't say that I enjoyed the experience, in fact, I would still go a long way to avoid it, but now... I have this safe, weird, bathed in afterglow, sated feeling. I put my head in my hands. I just don't understand.

Christian re-enters the room. I can't look him in the eye. I stare down at my hands.

"I found some baby oil. Let me rub it into your behind."

What?

"No. I'll be fine."

"Anastasia," he warns, and I want to roll my eyes but quickly stop myself. I stand facing the bed. Sitting beside me, he gently pulls my sweatpants down again. Up and down like wh.o.r.es' drawers my subconscious remarks bitterly. In my head, I tell her where to go.

Christian squirts baby oil into his hand and then rubs my behind with careful tenderness

- from makeup remover to smoothing balm for a spanked a.s.s, who would have thought it was such a versatile liquid.

"I like my hands on you," he murmurs, and I have to agree, me too.

"There," he says when he's finished, and he pulls my pants up again.

I glance over at my clock. It's ten-thirty.

"I'm leaving now."

"I'll see you out." I still can't look at him.

Taking my hand, he leads me to the front door. Fortunately, Kate is still not home. She must still be having dinner with her folks and Ethan. I'm really glad she's not been around to hear my chastis.e.m.e.nt.

"Don't you have to call Taylor?" I ask, avoiding eye contact.

"Taylor's been here since nine. Look at me," he breathes.

I struggle to meet his eyes, but when I do, he's gazing down at me with wonder.

"You didn't cry," he murmurs, then grabs me suddenly and kisses me fervently. "Sunday," he whispers against my lips, and it's both a promise and a threat.

I watch him walk down the path and climb into the big black Audi. He doesn't look back. I close the door and stand helpless in the living room of an apartment that I shall only spend another two nights in. A place I have lived happily for almost four years... yet today, for the first time ever, I feel lonely and uncomfortable here, unhappy with my own company. Have I strayed so far from who I amI know that lurking, not very far under my rather numb exterior, is a well of tears. What am I doingThe irony is I can't even sit down and enjoy a good cry. I'll have to stand. I know it's late, but I decide to call my mom.

"Honey, how are youHow was graduation?" she enthuses down the phone. Her voice is a soothing balm.

"Sorry it's so late," I whisper.