'Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I've been here. "'I want you sore, baby,' he murmurs, and he continues his sweet, leisurely torment, backward, forward. "His arms are wrapped around me, and he's pulling me to him, hard, fast, gripping my ponytail to tilt my head up, kissing me like his life depends on it."ĩ. 'Because I'm fifty shades of fucked up, Anastasia.'"Ĩ. "'Why don't you like to be touched?' I whisper, staring up into soft gray eyes. Christian squirts baby oil into his hand and then rubs my behind with careful tenderness-from makeup remover to soothing balm for a spanked ass, who would have thought it was such a versatile liquid."Ħ. Up and down like a whores' drawers, my subconscious remarks bitterly. "Sitting beside me, he gently pulls my sweatpants down. I suck harder and harder.… Hmm.… My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves."Ĥ. He's my very own Christian Grey-flavored popsicle. "I pull him deeper into my mouth so I can feel him at the back of my throat and then to the front again. He takes full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth. I moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. His other hand grabs my ponytail and yanks down, bringing my face up, and his lips are on mine. "Before I know it, he's got both of my hands in one of his in a vice-like grip above my head, and he's pinning me to the wall using his hips.
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