Fifty Shades Darker(70)

But what catches my eye is the white pin board above the desk, studded with a myriad of photographs, Mariners pennants, and ticket stubs. It's a slice of young Christian. My eyes come back to the magnificent, beautiful man now standing in the center of the room.

He looks at me darkly, brooding and sexy.

"I've never brought a girl in here," he murmurs.

"Never?" I whisper.

He shakes his head.

I swallow convulsively, and the ache that has been bothering me for the last couple of hours is roaring now, raw and wanting. Seeing him standing there on the royal blue carpet in that mask... it's beyond erotic. I want him. Now. Any way I can get him. I have to resist launching myself at him and ripping his clothes off. He waltzes over to me slowly.

"We don't have long, Anastasia, and the way I'm feeling right this moment, we won't need long. Turn round. Let me get you out of that dress."

I turn and stare at the door, grateful that he's locked it. Bending down he whispers softly in my ear, "Keep the mask on."

I groan as my body clenches in response. He's not even touched me yet.

He grasps the top of my dress, his fingers sliding against my skin, and the touch reverberates through my body. In one swift move, he opens the zipper. Holding my dress, he helps me to step out of it, then turns and drapes it artfully over the back of a chair. Removing his jacket, he places it over my dress. He pauses, and stares at me for a moment, drinking me in. I'm in the basque and matching panties, and I revel in his sensuous gaze.

"You know, Anastasia," he says softly as he stalks toward me, undoing his bow tie so it hangs from either side of his neck, then undoing the top three buttons of his shirt. "I was so mad when you bought my auction lot. All manner of ideas ran through my head. I had to remind myself that punishment is off the menu. But then you volunteered." He gazes down at me through his mask. "Why did you do that?" he whispers.

"Volunteer? I don't know. Frustration... too much alcohol... worthy cause," I mutter meekly, shrugging. Maybe to get his attention?

I needed him then. I need him more now. The ache is worse, and I know he can soothe it, calm this roaring, salivating beast in me with the beast in him. His mouth presses into a line, and he slowly licks his upper lip. I want that tongue on me.

"I vowed to myself I would not spank you again, even if you begged me."

"Please," I beg.

"But then I realized, you're probably very uncomfortable at the moment, and it's not something you're used to." He smirks at me knowingly, arrogant bastard, but I don't care because he's absolutely right.

"Yes," I breathe.

"So, there might be a certain... latitude. If I do this, you must promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"You will safe word if you need to, and I will just make love to you, okay?"

"Yes." I'm panting. I want his hands on me.

He swallows, then takes my hand, and moves toward the bed. Throwing the duvet aside, he sits down, grabs a pillow, and places it beside him. He gazes up at me standing beside him and suddenly tugs hard on my hand so that I fall across his lap. He shifts slightly so my body is resting on the bed, my chest on the pillow, my face to one side. Leaning over, he sweeps my hair over my shoulder and runs his fingers through the plume of feathers on my mask.

"Put your hands behind your back," he murmurs.

Oh! He removes his bow tie and uses it to quickly bind my wrists so that my hands are tied behind me, resting in the small of my back.

"You really want this, Anastasia?"