Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           Thistimewhenheflicksitagainstmeinthesameplace,I’manticipatingit.Mybodyconvulsesatthesweet,stingingbite.

           Ashemakeshiswayaroundme,heflicksagain,thistimehittingmynipple,andIthrowmyheadbackasmynerveendingssing.Hehitstheother…abrief,swift,sweetchastisement.Mynippleshardenandelongatefromtheassault,andImoanloudly,pullingonmyleathercuffs.

           “Doesthatfeelgood?”hebreathes.

           “Yes.”

           Hehitsmeagainacrossthebuttocks.Thecropstingsthistime.

           “Yes,what?”

           “Yes,Sir,”Iwhimper.

           Hecomestoastop…butIcannolongerseehim.MyeyesareclosedasItrytoabsorbthemyriadsensationscoursingthroughmybody.Veryslowly,herainssmall,bitinglicksofthecropdownmybelly,headingsouth.Iknowwherethisisleading,andItrytopsychemyselfupforit—butwhenhehitsmyclitoris,Icryoutloudly.

           “Oh…please!”Igroan.

           “Quiet,”heorders,andhehitsmeagainonmybehind.

           Ididnotexpectthistobelikethis…Iamlost.Lostinaseaofsensation.Andsuddenly,he’sdraggingthecropagainstmysex,throughmypubichair,downtotheentranceofmyvagina.

           “Seehowwetyouareforthis,Anastasia.Openyoureyesandyourmouth.”

           IdoasI’mtold,completelyseduced.Hepushesthetipofthecropintomymouth,likemydream.Holyshit.

           “Seehowyoutaste.Suck.Suckhard,baby.”

           Mymouthclosesaroundthecropasmyeyeslockonhis.Icantastetherichleatherandthesaltinessofmyarousal.Hiseyesareblazing.He’sinhiselement.