Fifty Shades of Grey(125)

"You scare me when you're angry," I breathe, staring at him.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them, his expression has softened fractionally. He takes a deep breath and swallows.

"Turn round," he whispers. "I want to get you out of that dress."

Another mercurial mood swing, it's so hard to keep up. Obediently, I turn and my heart is thumping, desire instantly replacing unease, coursing through my blood and settling dark and yearning low, low in my belly. He scoops my hair off my back so it hangs down my right side, curling at my breast. He places his index finger at the nape of my neck and achingly slowly drags it down my spine. His well-manicured fingernail gently grazes down my back.

"I like this dress," he murmurs. "I like to see your flawless skin."

His finger reaches the back of my halter dress midway down my spine, and hooking his finger beneath the top, he pulls me closer so that I step back against him. I feel him flush against my body. Leaning down, he inhales my hair.

"You smell so good, Anastasia. So sweet." His nose skims past my ear down my neck, and he trails soft, feather light kisses along my shoulder.

My breathing changes, becoming shallow, rushed, full of expectation. His fingers are at my zipper. Achingly slow, once more he eases it down while his lips move, licking and kissing and sucking their way across to my other shoulder. He is so tantalizingly good at this. My body resonates, and I start to squirm languidly beneath his touch.

"You. Are. Going. To. Have. To. Learn. To. Keep. Still," he whispers, kissing me around my nape between each word.

He tugs at the fastening at the halter neck, and the dress drops and pools at my feet.

"No bra, Miss Steele. I like that."

His hands reach round and cup my breasts, and my nipples pucker at his touch.

"Lift your arms and put them around my head," he murmurs against my neck.

I obey immediately, and my breasts rise and push into his hands, my nipples hardening further. My fingers weave into his hair, and very gently I tug his soft, sexy hair. I roll my head to one side to give him easier access to my neck.

"Mmm... " he murmurs into that space behind my ear, as he starts to extend my nipples with his long fingers, mirroring my hands in his hair.

I groan as the sensation registers sharp and clear in my groin.

"Shall I make you come this way?" he whispers.

I arch my back to force my breasts into his expert hands.

"You like this, don't you, Miss Steele?"

"Mmm... "

"Tell me." He continues the slow sensuous torture, pulling gently.

"Yes."

"Yes, what."

"Yes... Sir."

"Good girl." He pinches me hard, and my body writhes convulsively against his front.

I gasp at the exquisite, acute, pleasure/pain. I feel him against me. I moan and my hands clench in his hair pulling harder.

"I don't think you're ready to come yet," he whispers, stilling his hands, and he gently bites my earlobe and tugs at it. "Besides, you have displeased me."

Oh... no, what will this mean My brain registers through the fog of needy desire as I groan.

"So perhaps I won't let you come after all." He returns the attention of his fingers to my nipples, pulling, twisting, kneading. I grind my behind against him... moving side to side.

I feel his grin against my neck as his hands move down to my hips. His fingers hook into my panties at the back, stretching them, and he pushes his thumbs through the material, shredding them and tossing them in front of me so I can see ... holy shit. His hands move down to my sex... and from behind, he slowly inserts his finger.