“I want you sore, baby,” he murmurs, and he continues his sweet, leisurely torment, backward, forward. “Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I’ve been here. Only me. You are mine.”

E.L. James
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“I will never get enough of you. Don't leave me," he murmurs and kisses my belly."I'm not going anywhere, Christian, and I seem to remember that I wanted to kiss your belly," I grumble sleepily.He grins at my skin. "Nothing stopping you baby.”


“Trust me, They want you. They want what's mine." He pulls me against him, and I lift my arms to his shoulders, my hands in his hair, regarding him with amusement."Mine," he repeats, his eyes glowing possessively."Yes, yours." I reassure him, smiling.”


“What happened to her?”“We finished.”“Why?”“She wanted more.”“And you didn’t?”He shakes his head.“I’ve never wanted more, until I met you.”


“I want you, Anastasia,” he murmurs. “I love and I hate, and I love arguing with you. It’s very new. I need to know that we’re okay. It’s the only way I know how.” “My feelings for you haven’t changed,” I whisper. His proximity is overwhelming, exhilarating. The familiar pull is there, all my synapses goading me toward him, my inner goddess at her most libidinous. Staring at the patch of hair in the V of his shirt, I bite my lip, helpless, driven by desire—I want to taste him there. He’s so close, but he doesn’t touch me. His heat is warming my skin. “I’m not going to touch you until you say yes,” he says softly. “But right now, after a really shitty morning, I want to bury myself in you and just forget everything but us.”


“You brought me here to admire the view?" I whisper. He nods, his expression serious."It's staggering, Christian. Thank you," I murmur, letting my eyes feast on it once more. He releases my hand."How would you like to look at it for the rest of your life?" he breathes.”


“This way,” he murmurs and abruptly is inside me once more, but he doesn’t start his usual punishing rhythm straight away. He leans over, releases my hands, and pulls me upright so I am practically sitting on him. His hands move up to my breasts, and he palms them both, tugging gently on my nipples. I groan, tossing my head back against his shoulder. He nuzzles my neck, biting down, as he flexes his hips, deliciously slowly, filling me again and again. “Do you know how much you mean to me?” he breathes against my ear. “No,” I gasp.He smiles against my neck, and his fingers curl around my jaw and throat, holding me fast for a moment. “Yes, you do. I’m not going to let you go.” I groan as he picks up speed. “You are mine, Anastasia.” “Yes, yours,” I pant. “I take care of what’s mine,” he hisses and bites my ear.”