by James, E L
I think I’m forgiven for railroading her.
I think we’re okay.
We stand in our embrace in the middle of our bathroom for an age, her warmth and her love soaking into me.
Eventually, Ana leans back, the love-light shining in her eyes. “You really want me to do this?”
I nod, and her smile matches mine. She steps out of my arms and points to the chair again. “Then sit.” I do as she asks while she kicks off her shoes and retrieves my shampoo from the shower. “Would Sir like this?” She holds it up as if she’s on a cheesy shopping channel, selling it to me. “Hand-delivered from the South of France. I like the smell of this.” She pops the top. “It smells of you.”
“Please.”
She places the shampoo on the vanity unit, then reaches for a small towel. “Lean forward,” she orders, and drapes the towel over my shoulders and turns the taps on behind me.
“Lean back.”
She’s bossy.
I like it.
I try to lean back, but it doesn’t work because I’m too tall. I shuffle the chair forward and then tip it so it rests against the sink.
Success. I tilt my head backward over the sink and watch Ana.
Slowly, using a glass to scoop up the warm water, she anoints my head, leaning over me. “You smell so good, Mrs. Grey.” I close my eyes, enjoying her hands on me as she continues to wet my hair.
Abruptly, she pours water over my forehead and it flows into my eyes.
“Sorry!” she squeals.
I laugh and wipe the excess off with the corner of my towel. “Hey, I know I’m an arse, but don’t drown me.”
She giggles and plants a tender kiss on my forehead. “Don’t tempt me,” she whispers. Reaching up, I place my hand on her neck and guide her lips to mine. Her breath is sweet; she tastes of Ana, and sauvignon blanc. An enticing combination.
“Mm,” I murmur, savoring the taste. Releasing her, I lean back, ready for her to continue. She smiles down at me, and I hear the sound of liquid squirting from the tube as she squeezes it into her hand. Gently, she starts to massage the shampoo into my scalp—from my temples, she works her way over my head—and I close my eyes, relishing her touch.
Sweet Jesus.
Who knew heaven resided in my wife’s fingertips?
When Franco’s cut my hair, he’s always used a spray. I’ve never had my hair washed.
Why not, Grey? This is so relaxing.
Or perhaps it’s just Ana—I’m so acutely aware of her. Her leg grazing mine, her arm skimming my cheek, her touch, her scent…“That feels good,” I murmur.
“Yes, it does.” Her lips graze my forehead.
“I like it when you scratch my scalp with your fingernails.”
“Head up,” she says, and I lift my head so she soaps the back using her fingernails on my scalp.
Bliss.
“Back.”
I do as I’m told, and she pours water over my head again, rinsing out the suds.
“Once more?” she asks.
“Please.” When I open my eyes, she’s smiling down at me.
“Coming right up, Mr. Grey.” She releases me and fills my sink. “For rinsing,” she explains.
Closing my eyes, I surrender myself to her ministrations. She washes my hair again, anointing me with more water, massaging more shampoo into my scalp, and using her fingernails.
I have found nirvana.
This is pure paradise.
Her fingers caress my cheek and I open heavy eyelids to watch her. She kisses me, and her kiss is soft, sweet, chaste.
I sigh, my contentment complete.
She moves over me and her breasts brush my face.
Fuck.
Hello!
Behind me, the water gurgles down the drain, but with my eyes closed, I reach up and grab her hips, then slide my fingers over her magnificent behind.
“No fondling the help,” she warns.
“Don’t forget I’m deaf.” Slowly I start to hitch up her skirt, but she swats my arm. I grin, feeling like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I stop misbehaving, but I keep my hands on her fine backside while she rinses my hair. I imagine I’m playing the Moonlight Sonata on her ass, my fingers flexing through the notes. She wiggles deliciously against my fingers and I growl in appreciation.
“There, all rinsed,” she announces.
“Good.” My fingers tighten around her hips and I sit up, dripping water everywhere and pulling Ana sidesaddle onto my lap. I curl my fingers around her nape, and with my other hand I hold her jaw. She gasps and I take full advantage, pressing my lips to hers and kissing her. My tongue seeking more.
Hot. Hungry. Ready.
I don’t care that I’m spraying water all over the bathroom and soaking my wife. Ana’s fingers tighten in my wet hair as she returns my kiss with a ferocity of her own.
Desire courses through my veins.
Demanding release.
I’m tempted to rip off her blouse, but I tug the top button. “Enough of this primping. I want to fuck you seven shades of Sunday, and we can do it in here or in the bedroom. You decide.”
Ana’s expression is dazed.
“What’s it to be, Anastasia?”
“You’re wet,” she whispers.
Holding her hips, I tip my head forward and rub my wet hair all over the front of her blouse. She squeals once more and squirms, but I tighten my hold. “Oh, no you don’t, baby.”
When I look up, her blouse is sticking to her like a second skin, her lacy bra obvious, her nipples pert beneath the lace. She’s gorgeous, but she’s also outraged, amused, and aroused at once. “Love the view,” I whisper, and lean down to run my nose around her wet, waiting nipple. She groans and wriggles on me. “Answer me, Ana. Here or the bedroom?”
“Here,” she whispers.
“Good choice, Mrs. Grey,” I murmur against the corner of her mouth, and move my hand from her jaw to her leg. Skimming my fingers over her pantyhose toward her thigh, I raise her skirt higher and higher while placing tender kisses along her jaw. “Oh, what shall I do to you?” I murmur.
Oh. My fingers reach the firm flesh of her thighs.
She’s wearing stockings!
Deep joy.
“I like these.” I run a finger under the stocking top and across the soft skin of her upper thigh. Ana squirms in delight. I groan. “If I’m going to fuck you seven shades of Sunday, I want you to keep still.”
“Make me,” she demands, and the challenge in her eyes goes straight to my cock.
“Oh, Mrs. Grey. You have only to ask.” I slide my hand up to her panties, glad that she’s wearing them over her garter belt. “Let’s divest you of these.” I tug gently, and she shifts on top of my erection.
Fuck. My breath hisses through my teeth. “Keep still,” I grumble.
“I’m helping.” She pouts in protest, and I suck her bottom lip between my teeth.
“Still,” I warn, then release her lip and tug her panties down her legs, crushing them into my hand; I have a plan for them. I raise Ana’s skirt so it’s bunched up around her hips and take a brief moment to appreciate how beautiful her legs are in stockings with lacy tops. I lift her. “Sit. Astride me.”
Keeping her darkening eyes on mine, she obeys, but tilts her chin up wearing her Bring it expression.
Oh, Ana.
“Mrs. Grey, are you goading me?”
We could have some fun with this.
My pants feel two sizes too small.
“Yes. What are you going to do about it?”
God, I love a challenge.
“Clasp your hands together behind your back.”
She does, and I bind her wrists with her panties and pull them tight. Now she’s helpless. “My panties? Mr. Grey, you have no
shame,” she chides me, breathless.
“Not where you’re concerned, Mrs. Grey, but you know that.”
I love the provocation in her smoky blue eyes. It’s such a turn-on. I push her backward on my lap so I have more room to work. She chews her lip, her eyes on mine, and gently I skim my hands down to her knees, pushing her legs wider apart. Then I widen my legs, to give my dick some more room and to make her more available to me.
Also, it will be more intense for her this way.
My fingers move to the buttons on her wet blouse. “I don’t think we need this.” Slowly, I undo each button, revealing her breasts, still slick from their earlier soaking. They rise and fall rapidly as she inhales sharply, and I leave her blouse gaping open.
Desire shines in her eyes and they stay glued to mine.
I caress her face and brush my thumb across her bottom lip, then abruptly push it into her mouth. “Suck.” She closes her mouth around me and does exactly what she’s been told to do.
Hard.
My girl does not back down.
This I know.
She scrapes her teeth gently over my skin and bites the pad.
I moan, then ease my thumb from her mouth and paint her chin, her throat, and her sternum with her saliva. I hook my thumb into her bra cup and tug it down, freeing her breast, then tuck the cup beneath, pushing her breast up so it’s poised and ready for me. We stare at each other, her mouth opens and closes, her eyes filled with yearning. I love watching her reaction to everything I do. She bites down on her lip as I free her other breast, so it, too, is helpless and waiting for me. They are too tempting. I hold both of them and slowly graze my thumbs over her nipples in a tight circle, torturing each one so that they stand proud beneath my touch. Ana starts panting and arching her back, thrusting her breasts into my palms. I don’t stop, but continue to tease her so that she throws her head back and lets out a long, low moan of pleasure.
“Shh,” I whisper, not letting up on the slow, sweet rhythm I’ve set for my thumbs. Ana’s hips shift. “Still, baby, still.” Reaching behind her head, I gather her hair in one hand and hold her neck.
I want her still.
Leaning down, I tease her right nipple with my lips, then suck hard as my fingers move to continue taunting its twin, gently tugging and twisting.
“Ah! Christian!” she groans, and rocks her hips forward on my lap.
Oh, no, baby.
I don’t let up. My lips tasting and teasing, my fingers tweaking and tugging.
“Christian, please,” she mewls.
“Hmm. I want you to come like this,” I whisper against my captive peak, and I return to it, but this time I tug tenderly and carefully with my teeth.
“Ah!” Ana calls, and writhes on my lap, but I hold her still and I don’t stop.
“Please.” She’s breathless and begging, and I watch her, her mouth slack, her head back, as she has no choice but to absorb all the pleasure.
I know she’s close. “You have such beautiful breasts, Ana. One day I’ll fuck them.”
She arches her back fully, surrendering to me, her breathing rapid. Her thighs straining against mine.
She’s close.
So close.
“Let go,” I whisper, and she does, her eyes scrunched closed as she cries out and her body quivers through her orgasm. I tighten my hold on her as she sails down from her high.
Her eyes flicker open, dazed, and beautiful.
“God, I love to watch you come, Ana.”
“That was…” She stops, overwhelmed, I think.
“I know.” I kiss her, angling her head so I can claim her, and tell her with my tongue that she is everything to me.
She blinks up at me when I pull away.
“Now I’m going to fuck you, hard.” I grab her around the waist and move her farther back on my lap once more. With one hand on her thigh, I reach for my pants zipper and free my impatient cock. Ana’s eyes darken, her pupils dilating. “You like?” I whisper.
“Hm.” She makes a delicious rumbling noise of approval in throat.
I wrap my fingers around my erection and move them up and down as she watches.
“You’re biting your lip, Mrs. Grey.”
“That’s because I’m hungry.”
“Hungry?”
Anastasia Grey, my day’s just improved a thousandfold.
She makes that noise again, the sexy one deep in her throat, and licks her lips while I continue to pleasure myself.
“I see. You should have eaten your dinner.” I’m almost tempted to spank her, but I’m not sure that would be welcome. “But maybe I can oblige.” I put my hands around her waist so that she keeps her balance. “Stand,” I order.
She does, indecently quickly. She’s keen.
“Kneel,” I murmur, watching her. Her eyes flick to mine shining with sensuous delight and she does, surprisingly gracefully, considering her hands are tied. I slide forward on the chair, holding my erection. “Kiss me,” I order, offering her my cock. She glances from my dick to my face, and I run my tongue over my teeth.
Come on, baby.
She leans forward and plants a soft kiss on the tip. Her eyes on mine.
It’s so fucking hot. I could come over her right now.
I lay my hand against her cheek and she runs her tongue around the head of my erection. I gasp, and suddenly she pounces, pulling my dick into her mouth and sucking, really hard.
“Ah!” Ana’s mouth is heaven.
I flex my hips forward, diving deeper into her throat, and she takes me, all of me.
Fuck.
She moves her head, up and down, consuming me.
Ah. She’s so good at this.
But I don’t want to come in her mouth. I hold her head with both hands to slow her down and control her pace.
Easy, baby.
Panting hard, I guide her mouth. Down. Up. On. Me. Her tongue works its magic. “Jesus, Ana,” I whisper, and screw my eyes up, and lose myself in her rhythm.
She draws her lips back, so I feel her teeth.
Fuck. I stop and grab her, moving her onto my lap. “Enough!” I growl. I tug her panties off her wrists and she looks so fucking pleased with herself. As she should. She’s a goddess, her expression sultry beneath her long lashes. She licks her lips and wraps her fingers around my dick and scoots forward and lowers herself oh-so-fucking-slowly onto me.
Oh, the feel of her.
Groaning, in tribute to her, I tug her blouse off so it falls to the floor. I steady her hips with my hands to stall her. “Still,” I order. “Please, let me savor this. Savor you.”
She stops moving, and her dark, dark eyes glow with her love and innate sensuality; her lips are parted and moist where she’s been biting her bottom lip.
She is my life.
I flex my butt, driving deeper into her, and she moans and closes her eyes. “This is my favorite place,” I murmur. “Inside you. Inside my wife.”
Ana’s fingers fist in my wet hair, her lips find mine, and her tongue finds mine as she starts to move, rising up and down, riding me.
Riding me, fast. Her pace frantic.
I moan, weaving my hands in her hair, and my tongue welcomes hers, as they dance a dance they know so well.
She’s greedy.
Like me.
Too fast, baby.
My hands move to her ass, and I guide her once more, to a quick but even tempo.
“Ah!” she cries out.
“Yes. Yes, Ana,” I hiss through my teeth, as I try to prolong this exquisite pleasure. “Baby,” I murmur as my passion builds, and I take her mouth once more.
Ana. Ana. Will it always be like this?
This. Hot.
This. Elemental.
This. Extreme.
“Oh, Christi
an, I love you. I will always love you.”
Her words are my undoing. I can’t hold on, after all the tension between us today. I clasp her to me and let go, crying out as I come hard and fast, triggering her release. She cries out and surrenders herself to me, shuddering around me, until we’re both still.
Together, we resurface.
She’s crying. “Hey.” I tip her chin back. “Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she says in a breathless rush of denial. I push her hair off her face and wipe the tear that’s slipped down her cheek with my thumb, and kiss her. I shift, pulling out of her, and she winces as I do.
“What’s wrong, Ana? Tell me.”
Watery eyes stare into mine. “It’s just, it’s just sometimes I’m overwhelmed by how much I love you,” she whispers.
My heart melts and mends into one glorious whole. “You have the same effect on me.” I touch my lips to hers in the softest of kisses.
“Do I?”
Ana. “You know you do.”
“Sometimes I know. Not all the time.”
“Back at you, Mrs. Grey.”
What a pair we make, Anastasia.
Her smile lights a path for my dark soul and she leaves a trail of soft, sweet kisses over my chest and cuddles up to me, her cheek against my heart. I stroke her hair and run my fingers down her back. She’s still wearing her bra. It can’t be very comfortable; I undo it, tug down each of the straps so it falls to the floor, joining her blouse.
“Hmm. Skin on skin.” I fold her into my arms and graze my lips over her shoulder and up to her ear. “You smell like heaven, Mrs. Grey.”
“So do you, Mr. Grey.” She kisses my chest again and relaxes into me, letting out what I think is a sigh of contentment.
I don’t know how long we sit, wrapped around each other, but it’s a balm to my soul. We are one. The tension between us gone. I kiss her hair, inhale my wife’s scent, and all is right in my world once more.
“It’s late.” I’m stroking her back and I don’t want to move.
“Your hair still needs cutting.”
I laugh. “That it does, Mrs. Grey. Do you have the energy to finish the job you started?”
“For you, Mr. Grey, anything.” She drops another kiss on my chest and stands up.
“Don’t go.” I capture her hips and turn her around. Quickly, I unzip her skirt so it falls to the floor and I offer Ana my hand so she steps free of it. I take a moment to appreciate my wife wearing nothing but her stockings and garter belt. “You are a mighty fine sight, Mrs. Grey.” Sitting back in the chair, I cross my arms and gawk.