Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 18
Hegrabsmearoundmywaistandpullsmeupagainsthim.“Youareincorrigible,MissSteele,”hemurmurs,staringdownintomyeyesasheweaveshisfingersintomyhair,holdingmefirmlyinplace.Hekissesme,hard,andIclingontohismusculararmsforsupport.
“AsmuchasI’dliketotakeyouhereandnow,youneedtoeatandsodoI.Idon’twantyoupassingoutonmelater,”hemurmursagainstmylips.
“Isthatallyouwantmefor—mybody?”Iwhisper.
“Thatandyoursmartmouth,”hebreathes.
Hekissesmeagainpassionately,andthenabruptlyreleasesme,takingmyhandandleadingmetothekitchen.Iamreeling.Oneminutewe’rejokingandthenext…Ifanmyheatedface.He’sjustsexonlegs,andnowIhavetorecovermyequilibriumandeatsomething.Theariaisstillplayinginthebackground.
“What’sthemusic?”
“‘VillaLobos,’anariafromBachianasBrasileiras.Good,isn’tit?”
“Yes,”Imurmurintotalagreement.
Thebreakfastbarislaidfortwo.Christiantakesasaladbowlfromthefridge.
“Chickencaesarsaladokaywithyou?”
Oh,thankheavens,nothingtooheavy.
“Yes,fine,thankyou.”
Iwatchashemovesgracefullythroughhiskitchen.He’ssoateasewithhisbodyononelevel,butthenhedoesn’tliketobetouched…somaybedeepdownheisn’t.Nomanisanisland,Imuse—exceptperhapsChristianGrey.
“Whatareyouthinking?”heasks,pullingmefrommyreverie.Iflush.
“Iwasjustwatchingthewayyoumove.”
Heraisesaneyebrow,amused.
“And?”hesaysdryly.
Iflushsomemore.
“You’reverygraceful.
