“Do you, now?” My tone is wry.
She places her hand with the lipstick in mine and I sit up suddenly, surprising her, so we’re nose to nose.
“Ready?” I whisper, trying to curb my anxiety, but panic starts to spread.
“Yes,” she responds, the word as soft as a summer breeze.
Knowing I’m about to overstep my bounds, the darkness is circling like a vulture, waiting to consume me. Taking her hand, I move it to the top of my shoulder and fear squeezes my ribs, expelling the air from my lungs.
“Press down.” I struggle to get the words out. She does, and I guide her hand around my arm socket and down the side of my chest. The darkness slides into my throat, threatening to choke me. Ana’s amusement is gone, replaced by her solemn and determined concentration. I fix my eyes on hers and read every nuanced thought and emotion in the depths of her irises, each a life buoy, keeping me from drowning, holding the darkness at bay.
She is my salvation.
I stop at the bottom of my rib cage and move her hand across my abdomen, the lipstick spilling its red trail as she paints my body. I’m panting, trying desperately to hide my fear. Each muscle is tense and standing proud as the red slices my flesh. I lean back, supporting myself on flexed, straining arms as I fight my demons and surrender myself to her gentle illustration. She’s halfway done when I let go and give her total control. “And up the other side,” I whisper.
With the same single-minded focus, Ana draws up my right side. Eyes impossibly large. Anguished. But holding my attention. When she reaches the top of my shoulder, she stops. “There, done,” she breathes, her voice husky with repressed emotion. She lifts her hand away from my body, giving me a brief respite.
“No, you’re not.” I draw a line with my finger around the base of my neck above my clavicle. Ana takes a deep breath and traces the lipstick along the same line. When she finishes, blue eyes meet gray.
“Now my back,” I instruct, and shift so that she clambers off me. I turn around, my back to her, and cross my legs. “Follow the line from my chest, all the way around to the other side.” My voice is hoarse and alien to me, like I’ve left my body entirely to watch a beautiful young woman tame a monster.
No. No.
Be in the moment, Grey.
Live this.
Feel this.
Conquer this.
I am at Ana’s mercy.
The woman I love.
The tip of the lipstick crosses my back as I hunch over and screw my eyes shut, tolerating the pain. It disappears.
“Around your neck, too?” Her voice is plaintive. Full of reassurance. My life buoy. I nod and the pain is back, piercing my skin beneath my hairline.
Then, just as suddenly, it’s gone again.
“Finished,” she says, and I want to shout my relief from the helipad on Escala. I turn to face her and she’s watching me. And I know I’ll shatter like a shard of glass if I see any pity on her face…but there’s none. She’s waiting. Patient. Kind. Controlled. Compassionate.
My Ana.
“Those are my boundaries,” I whisper.
“I can live with those. Right now I want to launch myself at you,” she says, her eyes shining.
At last!
My relief is a wicked smile, and I hold out my hands in invitation. “Well, Miss Steele, I’m all yours.”
She squeals with glee and throws herself into my arms.
Whoa!
She knocks me off balance, but I recover and twist so that she lands on the bed beneath me, grasping my biceps. “Now, about that rain check.” I kiss her, hard. Her fingers curl in my hair and tug as I consume her. She moans, her tongue entwined with mine, and there’s a reckless, wild abandon in our kissing. She’s driving the darkness out and I’m drinking in her light. Adrenaline is fueling my passion and she’s matching me kiss for kiss. I want her naked. I sit her up and drag her T-shirt over her head and toss it to the floor.
“I want to feel you.” My words are feverish against her lips as I undo her bra and throw it aside. I lay her back down on the bed and kiss her breast, my lips toying with one nipple while my fingers tease the other. She cries out when I suck and tug hard.
“Yes, baby, let me hear you,” I breathe against her skin.
She squirms beneath me as I continue my sensual worship of her breasts. Her nipples respond to my touch, growing longer and harder as Ana writhes to a rhythm set by her passion.
She is a goddess.
My goddess.
I undo the button on her jeans as she twists her hands in my hair. I make short work of her zipper and slip my hand inside her panties. My fingers slide with ease to their goal.
Fuck.
She thrusts her pelvis up to meet the heel of my hand and I press against her clitoris as she mewls beneath me. She’s slick and ready. “Oh, baby,” I whisper, and lean up and hover over her, watching her wild expression. “You’re so wet.”
“I want you,” she whimpers.
I kiss her again as my hand moves against and inside her. I’m greedy. I want all of her. I need all of her.
She’s mine.
Mine.
I sit up and grab the hem of her jeans, and in one swift tug they’re off. I hook my fingers in her panties and they follow. I stand and out of my pocket take a foil packet and toss it at her. I’m relieved to remove my jeans and underwear.
Ana rips open the packet and eyes me hungrily when I lie down beside her. Slowly she rolls the condom over me and I grab her hands and roll onto my back.
“You. On top,” I insist, and I sit her astride me. “I want to see you.”
Slowly I ease her down onto me.
Fuck. She. Feels. So. Good.
I close my eyes and flex my hips as she takes me, and I exhale with a long, loud groan. “You feel so good.” I tighten my fingers around hers. I don’t want to let her go.
And she rises and falls, her body embracing mine. Her breasts bouncing as she does. I let go of her hands, knowing she’ll respect the road map, and I grab her hips. She places her hands on my arms as I rise up and thrust into her.
She cries out.
“That’s right, baby, feel me,” I whisper.
She tips her head back and becomes the perfect counterpoint.
Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.
I lose myself in our shared rhythm, reveling in every precious inch of her. She’s panting and moaning. And I watch her take me, over and over. Eyes closed. Head back in ecstasy. She’s magnificent. She opens her eyes.
“My Ana.” My lips form the words.
“Yes. Always,” she cries.
And her words call to my soul and tip me over the edge. I close my eyes and surrender to her once more.
She cries out as she finds her own release, pulling me to mine as she collapses on top of me.
“Oh, baby,” I grunt, and I’m spent.
HER HEAD LOLLS ON my chest, but I don’t care. She’s subdued the darkness. I caress her hair and with tired fingers I stroke her back as we both catch our breath.
“You are so beautiful,” I murmur, and it’s only when Ana lifts her head that I realize I’ve said the words out loud. She eyes me with skepticism.
When will she learn to take a compliment?