Page 33

Vanilla sex?
Can I do this?
Without another word I lead her out of my study, through the living room, and down the corridor to my bedroom. She follows, her hand tightly holding mine.
Shit. Contraception. I’m sure she’s not on the pill…Fortunately, I have condoms for backup. At least I don’t have to worry about every dick she’s slept with. I release her by the bed, walk over to my chest of drawers, and remove my watch, shoes, and socks.
“I assume you’re not on the pill.”
She shakes her head.
“I didn’t think so.” From the drawer I take out a packet of condoms, letting her know I’m prepared. She studies me, her eyes impossibly large in her beautiful face, and I have a moment’s hesitation. This is supposed to be a big deal for her, isn’t it? I remember my first time with Elena, how embarrassing it was…but what a heaven-sent relief. Deep down I know I should send her home. But the simple truth is, I don’t want her to go, and I want her. What’s more, I can see my desire reflected in her expression, in her darkening eyes.
“Do you want the blinds drawn?” I ask.
“I don’t mind,” she says. “I thought you didn’t let anyone sleep in your bed.”
“Who says we’re going to sleep?”
“Oh.” Her lips form a perfect small o. My cock hardens further. Yes, I’d like to fuck that mouth, that o. I stalk toward her like she’s my prey. Oh, baby, I want to bury myself in you. Her breathing is shallow and quick. Her cheeks are rosy…she’s wary, but excited. She’s at my mercy, and knowing that makes me feel powerful. She has no idea what I’m going to do to her. “Let’s get this jacket off, shall we?” Reaching up, I gently push her jacket off her shoulders, fold it, and place it on my chair.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you, Ana Steele?”
Her lips part as she inhales, and I reach up to touch her cheek. Her skin is petal-soft beneath my fingertips as they glide down to her chin. She’s entranced—lost—under my spell. She’s already mine. It’s intoxicating.
“Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?” I murmur, and hold her chin between my thumb and forefinger. Leaning down, I kiss her firmly, molding her lips to mine. Returning my kiss, she’s soft and sweet and willing, and I have an overwhelming need to see her, all of her. I make quick work of her buttons, slowly peeling off her blouse and letting it fall to the floor. I stand back to look at her. She’s wearing the pale blue bra that Taylor bought.
She’s stunning.
“Oh, Ana. You have the most beautiful skin, pale and flawless. I want to kiss every single inch of it.” There’s not a mark on her. The thought is unsettling. I want to see her marked…pink…with tiny, thin welts from a crop maybe.
She colors a delicious rose—embarrassed, no doubt. If I do nothing else, I will teach her not to be shy of her body. Reaching up, I pull her hair tie, freeing her hair. It tumbles lush and chestnut around her face, down to her breasts.
“Mmm, I like brunettes.” She’s lovely, exceptional, a jewel.
Holding her head, I run my fingers through her hair and pull her to me, kissing her. She moans against me and parts her lips, allowing me access to her warm, wet mouth. The sweet appreciative noise echoes through me—to the end of my cock. Her tongue shyly meets mine, tentatively probing my mouth, and for some reason, her fumbling inexperience is…hot.
She tastes luscious. Wine, grapes, and innocence—a potent, heady mix of flavors. I fold my arms tightly around her, relieved that she grips only my upper arms. With one hand in her hair, holding her in place, I run my other hand down her spine to her ass and push her against me, against my erection. She moans again. I continue to kiss her, coaxing her unschooled tongue to explore my mouth as I explore hers. My body tenses when she moves her hands up my arms—and for a moment I worry where she’ll touch me next. She caresses my cheek, then strokes my hair. It’s a little unnerving. But when she twists her fingers in my hair, pulling gently…
Damn, that feels good.
I groan in response but can’t let her continue. Before she can touch me again, I push her against the bed and drop to my knees. I want her out of these jeans—I want to strip her, arouse her some more, and…keep her hands off me. Grasping her hips, I run my tongue just north of the waistband up to her navel. She tenses and inhales sharply. Fuck, does she smell and taste good, an orchard in springtime, and I want my fill. Her hands fist in my hair once more; this I don’t mind—in fact, I like it. I nip her hipbone and her grip tightens in my hair. Her eyes are closed, her mouth slack, and she’s panting. As I reach up and undo the button on her jeans, she opens her eyes and we study each other. Slowly I ease down the zipper and move my hands around her ass. Slipping my hands inside the waistband, my palms against the soft cheeks of her behind, I slide her jeans off.
I can’t stop myself. I want to shock her…test her boundaries right now. Not taking my eyes off hers, I deliberately lick my lips, then lean forward and run my nose up the center of her panties, inhaling her arousal. Closing my eyes, I savor her.
Lord, she’s enticing.
“You smell so good.” My voice is husky with want and my jeans are becoming extremely uncomfortable. I need to take them off. Gently, I push her onto the bed and, grasping her right foot, I make quick work of removing her sneaker and sock. To tease her I run my thumbnail along her instep and she writhes gratifyingly on the bed, her mouth open, watching me, fascinated. Leaning down, I trace my tongue along her instep, and my teeth graze the little line that my thumbnail has left in its wake. She lies back on the bed, eyes closed, groaning. She’s so responsive, it’s delightful.