thought you might,” she answers, as I kiss that spot beneath her ear where her pulse beats.
“Oh, Mrs. Grey, I do.” Still holding her braid, I tilt Ana’s head, exposing her neck, and skim my lips down her throat. “First we have to get you naked.” When I turn her around, her eyes flit down to the unfastened top button on my jeans. Before I can stop her, she inserts her finger into the waistband, teasing the hair at the base of my belly.
Ah!
She glances up at me from behind long lashes. “You should keep these on,” she says.
“I fully intend to, Anastasia.” I fold her in my arms, one hand at her neck, the other splayed on her backside, and I kiss her, my tongue testing and tasting her. While we kiss, I walk her backward until she’s against the playroom cross, where I press my body into hers. Her lips are greedy, her tongue as eager as mine. I pull back. “Let’s get rid of this dress.” I grasp the hem and slowly divest her of her dress, revealing her body an inch at a time as I peel it off. “Lean forward,” I say, and she complies. The dress ends up on the floor as my wife stands before me in her seductive lingerie and her sandals. Threading my fingers through hers, I raise her hands over her head and incline mine in a question.
Restraints, Ana?
Her gaze is intense, missing nothing. I bathe in it, feeling it in my groin. She swallows and then nods.
My sweet girl. She never lets me down.
I clip her wrists in the leather cuffs above her head and take the scarf from my back pocket once more. “Think you’ve seen enough,” I whisper, and blindfold her again. I run my nose down hers and deliver a promise: “I’m going to drive you wild.”
Grasping her hips, I run my hands down her body, removing her panties as I go. “Lift your feet, one at a time.” She obliges and I remove her panties, then each of her sandals in turn. Sliding my fingers around her ankle, I tug her right leg to the right. “Step,” I order. She does, and I cuff her right ankle to the cross. I repeat the process with her left ankle, buckling her up tight. When she’s secure I stand and step close to her, bathing in her warmth and her growing excitement. Holding her chin, I plant a soft, chaste kiss on her lips. “Some music and toys, I think. You look beautiful like this, Mrs. Grey. I may take a moment to admire the view.” Stepping back, I do exactly that, knowing that the longer I look at her and do nothing, the wetter she’ll get…and the harder I’ll get.
She is a mighty fine sight.
But right now, I want to teach her about orgasm denial.
I pad over to the drawers and pull out a wand and the iPod. There’s a small tin of Tiger Balm beside the wand, and I contemplate spreading a little on her clitoris.
That would heat her up.
No. Not right now. That’s too next-level.
I switch on the music system and choose something unsettling, to suit my mood.
Yes. Bach. Aria from Goldberg Variations. Perfect.
I press play, and the crisp, bright, cool notes sing out through my playroom.
Our playroom.
I put the wand in my back pocket, pull off my T-shirt, and return to my wife, who is biting her lip. Taking her chin between my fingers, I startle her, then tug so that she releases her bottom lip. Her smile is shy and sweet, and I know she was unaware of what she was doing.
Oh, Ana. What I have in store for you.
Maybe I’ll let you come.
Maybe I won’t.
I run the backs of my fingers over the soft skin of her throat to her sternum, then, using my thumb, I tug her bra cup down, freeing her breast. She has such beautiful breasts. While I kiss her throat, I release her other breast from its bra cup and toy with her nipple. My lips and my fingers tug and tease each of them, until they’re both erect and begging for more.
Ana squirms against her restraints. “Ah,” she groans. But I don’t stop; my mouth and fingers continue their slow, sensual torment. I know how easy it is to arouse her to orgasm this way.
She’s breathing hard. “Christian,” she begs.
“I know.” My voice is husky with want. “This is what you make me feel.”
She gasps.
And I