Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           Ihavetoconcentratetohandlethispain.MymindemptiesasIendeavortoabsorbthegruelingsensation.Hedoesn’thitmeinthesameplacetwiceinsuccession—he’sspreadingthepain.

           “Aargh!”Icryoutonthetenthslap—andI’munawarethatIhavebeenmentallycountingtheblows.

           “I’mjustgettingwarmedup.”

           Hehitsmeagain,thenhestrokesmesoftly.Thecombinationofthehardstingingblowandhisgentlecaressissomind-numbing.Hehitsmeagain…thisisgettinghardertotake.Myfacehurts,it’sscrewedupsotight.Hestrokesmegentlyandthentheblowcomes.Icryoutagain.

           “Noonetohearyou,baby,justme.”

           Andhehitsmeagainandagain.Fromsomewheredeepinside,Iwanttobeghimtostop.ButIdon’t.Idon’twanttogivehimthesatisfaction.Hecontinuestheunrelentingrhythm.Icryoutsixmoretimes.Eighteenslapsintotal.Mybodyissinging,singingfromhismercilessassault.

           “Enough,”hebreatheshoarsely.“Welldone,Anastasia.NowI’mgoingtofuckyou.”

           Hecaressesmybehindgently,anditburnsashestrokesmearoundandaroundanddown.Suddenly,heinsertstwofingersinsideme,takingmecompletelybysurprise.Igasp,thisnewassaultbreakingthroughthenumbnessaroundmybrain.

           “Feelthis.Seehowmuchyourbodylikesthis,Anastasia.You’resoakingjustforme.”Thereisaweinhisvoice.Hemoveshisfingersinandoutinquicksuccession.

           Igroan.No,surelynot.Andthenhisfingersaregone…andI’mleftwanting.

           “Nexttime,Iwillgetyoutocount.