Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 16
Suddenlyhegrabsme,tippingmeacrosshislap.Withonesmoothmovement,heangleshisbodysomytorsoisrestingonthebedbesidehim.Hethrowshisrightlegoverbothofmineandplantshisleftforearmonthesmallofmyback,holdingmedownsoIcannotmove.Oh,fuck.
“Putyourhandsuponeithersideofyourhead,”heorders.
Iobeyimmediately.
“WhyamIdoingthis,Anastasia?”heasks.
“BecauseIrolledmyeyesatyou,”Icanbarelyspeak.
“Doyouthinkthat’spolite?”
“No.”
“Willyoudoitagain?”
“No.”
“Iwillspankyoueachtimeyoudoit,doyouunderstand?”
Veryslowly,hepullsdownmysweatpants.Oh,howdemeaningisthis?Demeaningandscaryandhot.He’smakingsuchamealofthis.Myheartisinmymouth.Icanbarelybreathe.Shit,isthisgoingtohurt?
Heplaceshishandonmynakedbehind,softlyfondlingme,strokingaroundandaroundwithhisflatpalm.Andthenhishandisnolongerthere…andhehitsme—hard.Ow!Myeyesspringopeninresponsetothepain,andItrytorise,buthishandmovesbetweenmyshoulderblades,keepingmedown.Hecaressesmeagainwherehe’shitme,andhisbreathing’schanged—it’slouder,harsher.Hehitsmeagainandagain,quicklyinsuccession.Holyfuckithurts.Imakenosound,myfacescrewedupagainstthepain.Itrytowriggleawayfromtheblows—spurredonbyadrenalinespikingandcoursingthroughmybody.
“Keepstill,”hegrowls,“orI’llspankyouforlonger.”
He’srubbingmenow,andtheblowfollows.Arhythmicpatternemerges:caress,fondle,hardslap.
