Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           “Let’sgetthisjacketoff,shallwe?”hesayssoftly,andtakesholdofthelapelsandgentlyslidesmyjacketoffmyshoulders.Heplacesitonthechair.

           “DoyouhaveanyideahowmuchIwantyou,AnaSteele?”hewhispers.Mybreathhitches.Icannottakemyeyesoffhis.Hereachesupandgentlyrunshisfingersdownmycheektomychin.

           “DoyouhaveanyideawhatI’mgoingtodotoyou?”headds,caressingmychin.

           Themusclesinsidethedeepest,darkestpartofmeclenchinthemostdeliciousfashion.ThepainissosweetandsharpIwanttoclosemyeyes,butI’mhypnotizedbyhiseyesstaringferventlyintomine.Leaningdown,hekissesme.Hislipsaredemanding,firmandslow,moldingmine.Hestartsunbuttoningmyshirtwhileheplacesfeather-likekissesacrossmyjaw,mychin,andthecornersofmymouth.Slowlyhepeelsitoffmeandletsitfalltothefloor.Hestandsbackandgazesatme.I’minthepalebluelacyperfect-fitbra.Thankheavens.

           “Oh,Ana,”hebreathes.“Youhavethemostbeautifulskin,paleandflawless.Iwanttokisseverysingleinchofit.”

           Iflush.Ohmy…Whydidhesayhecouldn’tmakelove?Iwilldoanythinghewants.Hegraspsmyhairtie,pullsitfree,andgaspsasmyhaircascadesdownaroundmyshoulders.

           “Ilikebrunettes,”hemurmurs,andbothofhishandsareinmyhair,graspingeachsideofmyhead.Hiskissisdemanding,histongueandlipscoaxingmine.Imoan,andmytonguetentativelymeetshis.Heputshisarmsaroundmeandhaulsmeagainsthisbody,squeezingmetightly.