Fifty Shades of Grey (book 1+ 2)

Chapter 142

"Aagghh!" I cry out. It takes me by surprise, and it doesn't exactly hurt, but tingles all over, and he hits

me again. Harder.

"Aaah!"

I want to move, to writhe... to escape, or to welcome, each blow... I don't know - it's so overwhelming...

I can't pull my arms... my legs are stuck... I am held very firmly in place... and again he strikes across

my br**sts - I cry out. And it's a sweet agony - bearable, just... pleasant - no, not immediately, but as my

skin sings with each blow in perfect counterpoint to the music in my head, I am dragged into a dark,

dark part of my psyche that surrenders to this most erotic sensation. Yes - I get this. He hits me across

my hip. Then,t moves in swift blows over my pubic hair, on my thighs, and down my inner thighs... and

back up my body... across my hips. He keeps going as the music reaches a climax, and then suddenly

- the music stops. And so does he. Then the singing starts again... building and building, and he rains

down blows on me... and I groan and writhe. Once again, it ceases and all is quiet... except my wild

breathing... and wild yearning. For... oh...

what's happeningWhat's he going to do nowThe excitement is almost unbearable. I've entered a very

dark, carnal place.

The bed moves and shifts as I feel him clamber over me, and the song starts again. He's got it on

repeat... this time it's his nose and lips that take the place of the fur... running down my neck and throat,

kissing, sucking... trailing down to my br**sts... Ah! Taunting each of my ni**les in turn... his tongue

swirling round one while his fingers relentlessly tease the other... I groan, loudly I think, though I can't

hear. I am lost. Lost in him... lost in the astral, seraphic voices... lost to all the sensations I cannot

escape... I am completely at the mercy of his expert touch.

He moves down to my belly - his tongue circling my navel - following the path of the flogger and the

fur... I moan. He's kissing and sucking and nibbling... moving south...

and then his tongue is there. At, a the junction of my thighs. I throw my head back and cry out as I

almost detonate into orgasm... I'm on the brink, and he stops.

No! The bed shifts, and he kneels between my legs. He leans toward the bedpost, and the cuff on my

ankle is suddenly gone. I pull my leg to the middle of the bed... resting it against him. He leans over to

the opposite post and frees my other leg. His hands travel quickly down both my legs, squeezing and

kneading, bringing life back into them. Then, grasping my hips, he lifts me so that my back is no longer

on the bed. I am arched, resting on my shoulders. What He's kneeling up between my legs... and in

one swift, slamming move he's inside me... oh f**k... and I cry out again. The quiver of my impending

orgasm begins, and he stills. The quiver dies... oh no... he's going to torture me further.

"Please!" I wail.

He grips me harder... in warningI don't know, his fingers digging into the flesh of my behind as I lay

panting... so I purposefully still. Very slowly, he starts to move again...

out and then in... agonizingly slowly . Holy f**k - Please! I'm screaming inside... And as the number of

voices in the choral piece increases... so does his pace, infinitesimally, he's so controlled... so in time

with the music. And I can no longer bear it.

"Please," I beg, and in one swift move, he lowers me back onto the bed, and he's lying on top of me,

his hands on the bed beside my br**sts as he supports his weight, and he thrusts into me,.as A the

music reaches its climax, I fall... free fall... into the most intense, agonizing orgasm I have ever had,

and Christian follows me... thrusting hard into me, three more times... finally stilling, then collapsing on

top of me.

As my consciousness returns from wherever it's been, Christian pulls out of me. The music has

stopped, and I can feel him stretch across my body as he undoes the cuff on my right wrist. I groan as

my hand is freed. He quickly frees my other hand, gently pulls the mask from my eyes, and removes

the ear buds. I blink in the dim soft light and stare up into his intense gray gaze.

"Hi," he murmurs.

"Hi, yourself," I breathe shyly back at him. His lips quirk up into a smile, and he leans down and kisses

me softly.

"Well done, you," he whispers. "Turn over."

Holy f**k - what's he going to do nowHis eyes soften.

"I'm just going to rub your shoulders."

"Oh... okay."

I roll stiffly onto my front. I am so tired. Christian sits astride me and starts to massage my shoulders. I

groan loudly - he has such strong, knowing fingers. Leaning down, he kisses my head.

"What was that music?" I mumble almost inarticulately.

"It's called Spem In Alium, or the Forty Part Motet, by Thomas Tallis."

"It was... overwhelming."

"I've always wanted to f**k to it."

"Not another first, Mr. Grey?"

"Indeed, Miss Steele." © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

I groan again as his fingers work their magic on my shoulders.

"Well, it's the first time I've f**ked to it, too," I murmur sleepily.

"Hmm... you and I, we're giving each other many firsts." His voice is matter-of-fact.

"What did I say to you in my sleep, Ch - err, Sir?"

His hands pause their ministrations for a moment.

"You said lots of things, Anastasia. You talked about cages and strawberries... that you wanted more...

and that you missed me."

Oh, thank heavens for that.

"Is that all?" The relief in my voice is evident.

Christian stops his heavenly massage and shifts so that he's lying beside me. His head propped up on

his elbow. He's frowning.

"What did you think you'd said?"

Oh crap.

"That I thought you were ugly, conceited, and that you were hopeless in bed."

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