Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 20
Thinkaboutthat,Anastasia.”
Water?Hewantswater—now—why?
AsIleavethebedroom,itbecomesabundantlyclearwhyhewantsmetowalkaround—asIdo,theballsweighdowninsideme,massagingmeinternally.It’ssuchaweirdfeelingandnotentirelyunpleasant.Infact,mybreathingacceleratesasIstretchupforaglassfromthekitchencabinet,andIgasp.Ohmy…Imayhavetokeepthese.Theymakemeneedy,needyforsex.
He’swatchingmecarefullywhenIreturn.
“Thankyou,”hesaysashetakestheglassfromme.
Slowly,hetakesasip,thenplacestheglassonhisbedsidetable.There’safoilpacket,readyandwaiting,likeme.AndIknowhe’sdoingthistobuildtheanticipation.Myhearthaspickedupabeat.Heturnshisbrightgraygazetomine.
“Come.Standbesideme.Likelasttime.”
Isidleuptohim,mybloodthrummingthroughmybody,andthistime…I’mexcited.Aroused.
“Askme,”hesayssoftly.
Ifrown.Askhimwhat?
“Askme,”hisvoiceisslightlyharder.
What?Howwasyourwater?Whatdoeshewant?
“Askme,Anastasia.Iwon’tsayitagain.”Andthere’ssuchathreatimplicitinhiswords,anditdawnsonme.Hewantsmetoaskhimtospankme.
Holyshit.He’slookingatmeexpectantly,hiseyesgrowingcolder.Shit.
“Spankme,please…Sir,”Iwhisper.
Hecloseshiseyesmomentarily,savoringmywords.Reachingup,hegraspsmylefthandandhetugsmeoverhisknees.Ifallinstantly,andhesteadiesmeasIlandinhislap.Myheartisinmymouthashishandgentlystrokesmybehind.
