Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 9
Hecriesoutandstills,andIcanfeelwarm,saltyliquidoozingdownmythroat.Iswallowquickly.Ugh…I’mnotsureaboutthis.Butonelookathim,andIdon’tcare—he’scomeapartinthebathbecauseofme.Isitbackandwatchhim,atriumphant,gloatingsmiletuggingatthecornersofmylips.Hisbreathingisragged.Openinghiseyes,heglaresatme.
“Don’tyouhaveagagreflex?”heasks,astonished.“Christ,Ana…thatwas…good,reallygood.Unexpected,though.”Hefrowns.“Youknow,youneverceasetoamazeme.”
Ismileandconsciouslybitemylip.Heeyesmespeculatively.
“Haveyoudonethatbefore?”
“No.”AndIcan’thelpthesmalltingeofprideinmydenial.
“Good,”hesayscomplacentlyand,Ithink,relieved.“Yetanotherfirst,MissSteele.”Helooksappraisinglyatme.“Well,yougetanAinoralskills.Come,let’sgotobed,Ioweyouanorgasm.”
Orgasm!Anotherone!
Quickly,heclambersoutofthebath,givingmemyfirstfullglimpseoftheAdonis,divinelyformed,thatisChristianGrey.Myinnergoddesshasstoppeddancingandisstaring,too,openmouthedanddroolingslightly.Hiserectiontamedbutstillsubstantial…wow.Hewrapsasmalltowelaroundhiswaist,coveringtheessentials,andholdsoutalargerfluffywhitetowelforme.Climbingoutofthebath,Itakehisprofferedhand.Hewrapsmeinthetowel,pullsmeintohisarms,andkissesmehard,pushinghistongueintomymouth.Ilongtoreacharoundandembracehim…touchhim…buthehasmyarmstrappedinthetowel.I’msoonlostinhiskiss.
