Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           “Damnright,onlyme,”hegrowls,andsuddenly,withonefluidmovement,heclearsalltheplansandpapersoffhisdesksothattheyscatteronthefloor,sweepsmeupinhisarms,andlaysmedownacrosstheshortendofhisdesksothatmyheadisalmostofftheedge.

           “Youwantit,yougotit,baby,”hemutters,producingafoilpacketfromhispantspocketwhileheunzipshispants.Oh,Mr.BoyScout.Herollsthecondomoverhiserectionandgazesdownatme.“Isurehopeyou’reready,”hebreathes,asalacioussmileacrosshisface.Andinamoment,he’sfillingme,holdingmywriststightlybymyside,andthrustingintomedeeply.

           Igroan…ohyes.

           “Christ,Ana.You’resoready,”hewhispersinveneration.

           Wrappingmylegsaroundhiswaist,IholdhimtheonlywayIcanashestaysstanding,staringdownatme,grayeyesglowing,passionateandpossessive.Hestartstomove,reallymove.Thisisnotmakinglove,thisisfucking—andIloveit.Igroan.It’ssoraw,socarnal,makingmesowanton.Irevelinhispossession,hislustslakingmine.Hemoveswithease,luxuriatinginme,enjoyingme,hislipsslightlypartedashisbreathingincreases.Hetwistshishipsfromsidetoside,andthefeelingisexquisite.

           Iclosemyeyes,feelingthebuildup—thatdelicious,slow,step-climbingbuild.Pushingmehigher,highertothecastleintheair.Ohyes…hisstrokeincreasesfractionally.Imoanloudly.Iamallsensation…allhim,enjoyingeverythrust,everypushthatfillsme.