Slowly I ease her down onto me.
Fuck. She. Feels. So. Good.
I close my eyes and flex my hips as she takes me, and I exhale with a long, loud groan. “You feel so good.” I tighten my fingers around hers. I don’t want to let her go.
And she rises and falls, her body embracing mine. Her breasts bouncing as she does. I let go of her hands, knowing she’ll respect the road map, and I grab her hips. She places her hands on my arms as I rise up and thrust into her.
She cries out.
“That’s right, baby, feel me,” I whisper.
She tips her head back and becomes the perfect counterpoint.
Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.
I lose myself in our shared rhythm, reveling in every precious inch of her. She’s panting and moaning. And I watch her take me, over and over. Eyes closed. Head back in ecstasy. She’s magnificent. She opens her eyes.
“My Ana.” My lips form the words.
“Yes. Always,” she cries.
And her words call to my soul and tip me over the edge. I close my eyes and surrender to her once more.
She cries out as she finds her own release, pulling me to mine as she collapses on top of me.
“Oh, baby,” I grunt, and I’m spent.
HER HEAD LOLLS ON my chest, but I don’t care. She’s subdued the darkness. I caress her hair and with tired fingers I stroke her back as we both catch our breath.
“You are so beautiful,” I murmur, and it’s only when Ana lifts her head that I realize I’ve said the words out loud. She eyes me with skepticism.
When will she learn to take a compliment?
I sit up quickly, catching Ana off-guard. But I hold her in place and we’re face to face again.
“You. Are. Beautiful.” I emphasize each word.
“And you’re amazingly sweet sometimes.” She leans forward and gives me a chaste kiss.
I lift her up and she winces as I ease out of her. I kiss her gently. “You have no idea how attractive you are, do you?”
She looks nonplussed.
“All those boys pursuing you, that isn’t enough of a clue?”
“Boys? What boys?”
“You want the list? The photographer, he’s crazy about you; that boy in the hardware store; your roommate’s older brother. Your boss.” That untrustworthy fucker.
“Oh, Christian, that’s just not true.”
“Trust me. They want you. They want what’s mine.” I tighten my hold on her and she rests her forearms on my shoulders, her hands in my hair. And she studies me with amused tolerance.
“Mine,” I assert.
“Yes. Yours.” She gives me an indulgent smile. “The line is still intact,” she continues. And draws her finger over the lipstick mark on my shoulder.
I stiffen, alarmed.
“I want to go exploring,” she whispers.
“The apartment?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I was thinking of the treasure map that we’ve drawn on you.”
What?
She rubs her nose against mine, distracting me.
“And what would that entail exactly, Miss Steele?”
She raises her hand and tickles my stubble with her fingertips. “I just want to touch you everywhere I’m allowed.”
Her index finger brushes my lips and I capture it between my teeth.
“Ow,” she yelps when I bite down, and I grin as I growl.
So she wants to touch me. I’ve given her my boundaries.
Try it her way, Grey.
“Okay,” I acquiesce, but I hear the uncertainty in my voice. “Wait.” I lift her and remove the condom and drop it beside the bed. “I hate those things. I’ve a good mind to call Dr. Greene around to give you a shot.”
“You think the top ob-gyn in Seattle is going to come running?”
“I can be very persuasive.” I smooth her hair behind her ear. She has the most beautiful small, impish ears. “Franco’s done a great job on your hair. I like these layers.”
“Stop changing the subject,” she warns.
I lift her so she’s astride me once more. Watching her carefully, I recline onto the pillows while she rests her back against my upright knees. “Touch away,” I murmur.
Her eyes never leave mine and she places her hand on my belly, beneath the lipstick line. I tense as her finger explores the valleys between my abdominal muscles. I flinch and she lifts her finger.
“I don’t have to,” she says.
“No, it’s fine. Just takes some readjustment on my part. No one’s touched me for a long time.”
“Mrs. Robinson?”
Shit. Why did I allude to her?
Warily, I nod. “I don’t want to talk about her. It will sour your good mood.”
“I can handle it.”
“No, you can’t, Ana. You see red whenever I mention her. My past is my past. It’s a fact. I can’t change it. I’m lucky that you don’t have one, because it would drive me crazy if you did.”
“Drive you crazy? More than you are already?”
“Crazy for you,” I declare.
She grins, a large, genuine grin. “Shall I call Dr. Flynn?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”