fall to the floor. He stands back and gazes at me. I'm in the pale blue lacy perfect-fit bra. Thank heavens. "Oh, Ana," he breathes. "You have the most beautiful skin, pale and flawless. I want to kiss every single inch of it." I flush. Oh my... Why did he say he couldn't make loveI will do anything he wants. He grasps my hair tie, pulls it free, and gasps as my hair cascades down around my shoulders. "I like brunettes," he murmurs, and both of his hands are in my hair, grasping each side of my head. His kiss is demanding, his tongue and lips coaxing mine. I moan, and my tongue tentatively meets his. He puts his arms around me and hauls me against his body, squeezing me tightly. One hand remains in my hair, the other travels down my spine to my waist and down to my behind. His hand flexes over my backside and squeezes gently. He holds me against his hips, and I feel his erection, which he languidly pushes into me. I moan once more into his mouth. I can hardly contain the riotous feelings or is it hormones that rampage through my body. I want him so badly. Gripping his upper arms, I feel his biceps, he's surprisingly strong... muscular. Tentatively, I move my hands up to his face and into his hair. Holy Moses. It's so soft, unruly. I tug gently, and he groans. He eases me toward the bed, until I feel it behind my knees. I think he's going to push me down on to it, but he doesn't. Releasing me, he suddenly drops to his knees. He grabs my hips with both his hands and runs his tongue around my navel, then gently nips his way to my hipbone, then across my belly to my other hipbone. "Ah," I groan. Seeing him on his knees in front of me, feeling his mouth on me, it's so unexpected,, and hot. My hands stay in his hair, pulling gently as I try to quiet my too-loud breathing. He gazes up at me through impossibly long lashes, his eyes a scorching smoky gray. His hands reach up and undo the button on my jeans, and he leisurely pulls down the zipper. Without taking his eyes off mine, his hands move beneath the waistband, skimming me and moving to my behind. His hands glide slowly down my backside to my thighs, removing my jeans as they go. I cannot look away. He stops and licks his lips, never breaking eye contact. He leans forward, running his nose up the apex between my thighs. I feel him. There. "You smell so good," he murmurs and closes his eyes, a look of pure pleasure on his face, and I practically convulse. He reaches up and tugs the duvet off the bed, then pushes me gently so I fall on to the mattress. Still kneeling, he grasps my foot and undoes my Converse, pulling off my shoe and sock. I raise myself up on my elbows to see what he's doing. I'm panting... wanting. He lifts my foot by the heel and runs his thumbnail up my instep. It's almost painful, but I feel the movement echoed in my groin. I gasp. Not taking his eyes off mine, again he runs his tongue along my instep and then his teeth. Shit. I groan... how can I feel this, there. I fall back on to the bed, moaning. I hear his soft chuckle. "Oh, Ana, what I could do to you," he whispers. He removes my other shoe and sock, then stands and removes my jeans. I'm lying on his bed dressed only in my bra and panties, and he's staring down at me. "You're very beautiful, Anastasia Steele. I can't wait to be inside you." Holy shit. His words. He's so seductive. He takes my breath away. "Show me how you pleasure yourself." What I frown. "Don't be coy, Ana, show me," he whispers. I shake my head. "I don't know what you mean." My voice is hoarse. I hardly recognize it, laced with desire. "How do you make yourself comeI want to see." I shake my head. "I don't," I mumble. He raises his eyebrows, astonished for a moment, and his eyes darken, and he shakes his head in disbelief. "Well, we'll have to see what we can do about that." His voice is soft, challenging, a delicious sensual threat. He undoes the buttons of his jeans and slowly pulls his jeans down, his eyes on mine the whole time. He leans down over me and, grasping each of my ankles, quickly