Darker (Fifty Shades 5)

We are nose to nose. She stares at me with shining eyes.

I run my hands down her thighs and at the knees gently pull her legs apart so that I can see my goal.

“Arms behind your back. I’m going to cuff you.”

I show her the leather elbow cuffs and lean around her to put them on. She turns and runs her parted lips along my jaw, her tongue teasing my stubble. I close my eyes and for a moment revel in the contact, suppressing a groan.

Pulling back, I admonish her, “Stop. Or this will be over far quicker than either of us wants.”

“You’re irresistible.”

“Am I, now?”

She nods, looking impertinent.

“Well, don’t distract me, or I’ll gag you.”

“I like distracting you.”

“Or spank you,” I warn. She grins. “Behave,” I scold her, and stand back and beat the cuffs across my palm.

It could so easily be your ass, Ana.

She looks modestly down at her knees. “That’s better.” I try again, and this time succeed in putting them on. I ignore her running her nose over my shoulder, but I thank God for our shower in the early hours of the morning.

The cuffs on, her back arches a little. Her breasts now prominent and begging to be touched. “Feel okay?” I ask as I admire her.

She nods.

“Good.” From my back pocket I take the mask. “I think you’ve seen enough now.” I slide it over her head and over her eyes.

Her breathing accelerates.

And I step back and drink her in.

She looks smoking hot.

Back at the drawers, I gather the items I need and slip off my T-shirt. I keep my jeans on, even though they are a little uncomfortable, because I don’t want her distracted by my impatient dick.

In front of her once more, I open the small glass bottle that contains my favorite massage oil and wave it under her nose. Infused with cedarwood, argan, and sage, it’s body-safe, and its fragrance reminds me of a crisp, fall day after the rain.

“I don’t want to ruin my favorite tie,” I mutter, as I undo it and pull it gently off Ana’s body. She squirms as the material floats up her body, teasing her.

I fold my tie and place it beside her. Her anticipation is almost palpable. Her body is humming with impatience. It’s arousing.

I pour a little oil on my hands and rub them together, warming the oil. She’s listening to what I’m doing. I love heightening her senses. Gently, I caress her cheek with my knuckles and run them down her jaw.

She startles when I touch her, but she leans into my hand. I start massaging the oil into her skin—her throat, her clavicle, and along her shoulders. I knead the muscles beneath and let my hands glide in small circles across her chest, avoiding her breasts. She bows backward, pressing them toward me.

Oh no, Ana. Not yet.

I move my fingers down her sides, rubbing in the oil in slow, measured strokes in time to the music. She groans and I don’t know if it’s from pleasure or frustration. Maybe a little of both.

“You are so beautiful, Ana,” I whisper, my lips close to her ear. I run them along her jaw as my hands work their magic. I move them beneath her breasts, over her belly, down to my goal. I kiss her quickly and inhale her scent, now mixed with the oil, down her neck and throat.

“And soon you’ll be my wife, to have and to hold.”

She inhales sharply.

“To love and to cherish.” My hands continue. “With my body, I will worship you.”

She throws her head back and moans as my fingers run through her pubic hair to her clitoris. Slowly I palm her, teasing her and spreading oil over her where she’s wet already.

It’s intoxicating.

I lean over to pick up a bullet vibrator. “Mrs. Grey.”

She moans.

“Yes,” I whisper, continuing my ministrations with my hand. “Open your mouth.” She’s already panting, but she opens her mouth farther and I slip the small vibrator inside. It’s attached to a chain and can be worn as jewelry if so required. “Suck. I’m going to put this inside you.”

She stills.

“Suck,” I repeat, and remove my hands from her body.

She flexes her knees and makes a frustrated grunt. Smiling, I pour more oil onto my palms and finally cup her breasts. “Don’t stop,” I warn, as I gently roll her stiffening nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. They harden and lengthen some more under my touch. “You have such beautiful breasts, Ana.”

She moans, and I gather one of the nipple clamps in one hand. Trailing my lips from her throat toward her breast, I stop and carefully attach a clamp.

Her garbled groan is my reward as I bring her trapped nipple to full attention with my lips. She writhes under my touch, shifting from side to side, and I clamp the remaining nipple. Ana’s groan is just as loud this time. “Feel it,” I insist, and I lean back to take in the beautiful sight.