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“Why?” “I need to be alone with you.” “What for?” “Because I’m going to spank and then fuck you.” “Why?” she whines. “You know why,” I snap. “I thought you were an in-the-moment guy?” “Anastasia, I’m in the moment, trust me.” Throwing open the boathouse door, I step inside and switch on the light. As the fluorescents ping to life I head upstairs to the snug. There I flip another switch, and halogens illuminate the room. I slide Ana down my body, glorying in the feel of her, and I set her on her feet. Her hair is dark and untamed, her eyes shining in the glow of the lights, and I know she’s not wearing her panties. I want her. Now. “Please don’t hit me,” she whispers. I don’t understand. I stare down at her blankly. “I don’t want you to spank me, not here, not now. Please don’t.” But…I gape at her, paralyzed. That’s why we’re here. She lifts her hand, and for a moment I don’t know what she’s going to do. The darkness stirs and twists around my throat, threatening to choke me if she touches me. But she places her fingers on my cheek and gently skims them down to my chin. The darkness melts into oblivion and I close my eyes, feeling her gentle fingertips on me. With her other hand she ruffles my hair, running her fingers through it. “Ah,” I moan, and I don’t know if it’s from fear or longing. I’m breathless, standing on a precipice. When I open my eyes, she steps forward so her body is flush against mine. She fists both hands in my hair and tugs gently, raising her lips to mine. And I’m watching her do this, like a bystander, not present in my body. I’m a spectator. Our lips touch and I close my eyes as she forces her tongue into my mouth. And it’s the sound of my groan that breaks the spell she’s cast. Ana. I wrap my arms around her, kissing her back, releasing two hours of anxiety and tension into our kiss, my tongue possessing her, reconnecting with her. My hands grip her hair and I savor her taste, her tongue, her frame against mine as my body ignites like gasoline. Fuck. When I pull away we’re both dragging air into our lungs, her hands clutching my arms. I’m confused. I wanted to spank her. But she’s said no. Like she did at the dinner table. “What are you doing to me?” I ask. “Kissing you.” “You said no.” “What?” She’s bewildered, or maybe she’s forgotten what happened. “At the dinner table, with your legs.” “But we were at your parents’ dining table.”

E l james grey  

Fifty Shades of Grey