Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           “Iknow,”hemurmurs.“Keepyourhandsaboveyourhead,”heorders,hisvoiceforceful.

           Hecupsmychinagainandstartstokissmythroatasbefore.Oh…he’ssofrustrating.Hishandsrundownmybodyandovermybreastsashereachesthedipatthebaseofmyneckwithhislips.Heswirlsthetipofhisnosearounditthenbeginsaveryleisurelycruisewithhismouth,headingsouth,followingthepathofhishands,downmysternumtomybreasts.Eachoneiskissedandnippedgentlyandmynipplestenderlysucked.Holycrap.Myhipsstartswayingandmovingoftheirownaccord,grindingtotherhythmofhismouthonme,andI’mdesperatelytryingtoremembertokeepmyhandsabovemyhead.

           “Keepstill,”hewarns,hisbreathwarmagainstmyskin.Reachingmynavel,hedipshistongueinside,andthengentlygrazesmybellywithhisteeth.Mybodybowsoffthebed.

           “Hmm.Youaresosweet,MissSteele.”Hisnoseglidesalongthelinebetweenmybellyandmypubichair,bitingmegently,teasingmewithhistongue.Sittingupsuddenly,hekneelsatmyfeet,graspingbothmyanklesandspreadingmylegswide.

           Holyshit.Hegrabsmyleftfoot,bendsmyknee,andbringsmyfootuptohismouth.Watchingandassessingmyeveryreaction,hetenderlykisseseachofmytoes,thenbiteseachoneofthemsoftlyonthepads.Whenhereachesmylittletoe,hebitesharder,andIconvulse,whimpering.Heglideshistongueupmyinstep—andIcannolongerwatchhim.It’stooerotic.I’mgoingtocombust.Isqueezemyeyesshutandtrytoabsorbandmanageallthesensationshe’screating.