Darker (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #2)

She moans in reply.

“Well, let’s get rid of these.” I slide the thong down her legs, removing it and dropping it on her discarded jeans. While kneeling behind her, I kiss each cheek of her ass. “Take the shot, baby.”

She’s agitated, all fingers and thumbs, and she fumbles for the cue ball, lines it up, hits it, but in her impatience misses the shot. She scrunches up her eyes, waiting for me to spank her, but instead I lean over her, pressing her onto the baize. I take the cue from her hand and push it to the side.

Now for some real fun.

“You missed,” I whisper in her ear. “Put your hands flat on the table.”

My erection is fighting with my fly.

“Good. I’m going to spank you now, and next time, maybe you won’t.” I move beside her so I have a better aim. She groans and closes her eyes, and her breathing is getting louder. I caress her behind with one hand. With the other I hold her down and twist my fingers in her hair.

“Open your legs,” I tell her, and reach for the ruler in my pocket. She hesitates, so I smack her with the ruler. It makes a really satisfying noise as it cracks across her ass, and she gasps but says nothing, so I hit her again.

“Legs,” I order. She complies and I strike her again. She scrunches up her eyes as she takes the pain, but she doesn’t ask me to stop.

Oh, baby.

I spank her again, and again, and she moans. Her skin is turning pink beneath the ruler and my jeans are becoming impossibly tight as they restrict my arousal. I smack her again and again. And I’m lost. Lost in her. Owned by her. She’s doing this for me. And I love it. I love her.

“Stop,” she says.

And I drop the ruler without thinking and release her.

“Enough?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“I want to fuck you now,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

“Yes,” she pleads.

She wants this, too.

Her ass is pink and she’s dragging air into her lungs.

I tug my fly open, allowing my cock some room, and then insert two fingers inside her, moving them in circles, reveling in her readiness.

I make quick work of putting on a condom, then steady myself behind her and slowly ease myself into her. Oh yes. This is without a doubt my favorite place in the world.

I ease out of her, holding her hips, then slam into her hard so that she cries out.

“Again?” I ask.

“Yes,” she breathes. “I’m fine. Lose yourself. Take me with you.”

Oh, Ana, with pleasure.

I slam into her once more and set up a slow but grueling rhythm, taking her again and again and again. She moans and cries out as I claim her. Every inch. Mine.

She starts to quicken—she’s nearly there—and I increase the pace, listening to her cries until she orgasms around me, crying out and taking me with her, so I call out her name and empty my soul inside her.

I collapse on top of her as I catch my breath. I’m filled with gratitude and humility. I love her. I want her. Always.

I pull her into my arms and we sink to the floor, where I cradle her against my chest. I never want to let her go. “Thank you, baby,” I whisper, and cover her face in soft kisses. She opens her eyes and gives me a drowsy, sated smile. I tighten my hold on her and stroke her cheek. “Your cheek is pink from the baize.”

Matches your ass, baby.

Her smile widens under my tender ministration. “How was that?” I ask.

“Teeth-clenchingly good,” she says. “I like it rough, Christian, and I like it gentle, too. I like that it’s with you.”

I close my eyes and marvel at the beautiful young woman in my arms. “You never fail, Ana. You’re beautiful, bright, challenging, fun, sexy, and I thank Divine Providence every day that it was you who came to interview me and not Katherine Kavanagh.” I kiss her hair and she yawns, making me smile. “I’m wearing you out. Come. Bath, then bed.”

I stand and pull her to her feet. “Do you want me to carry you?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, but you’d better get dressed—we don’t know who we’ll meet in the hallway.”



IN THE BATHROOM, I turn on the faucet and pour a copious amount of bath oil into the streaming water.

I help Ana out of her clothes and hold her hand as she steps in. I follow her quickly and we sit at opposite ends while the bath fills with hot water and fragrant foam.

I grab some body wash and with it begin to massage Ana’s left foot, my thumbs rubbing her instep.

“Oh, that feels so good.” She closes her eyes and tips back her head.

“Good.” I’m enjoying her pleasure. Her hair is tied in a ponytail that sits precariously in a loose bun on top of her head. A few tendrils escape, and her skin looks dewy and a little sun-kissed from our afternoon on The Grace.

She’s stunning.

It’s been a bewildering couple of days; Leila’s aberrant behavior, Elena’s interference, and Ana, steadfast and strong through it all. It’s been humbling. She humbles me. Most of all I’ve enjoyed sharing her happiness. I like to see her happy. Her joy is my joy.

“Can I ask you something?” she murmurs, cocking one eye open.

“Of course. Anything, Ana, you know that.”

She sits up and squares her shoulders.

Oh no.

“Tomorrow, when I go to work, can Sawyer just deliver me to the front door of the office, then pick me up at the end of the day? Please, Christian. Please,” she says quickly.

I stop my massage. “I thought we agreed.”

“Please.”

Why does she feel so passionately about this?

“What about lunchtime?” I ask, anxious once more about her safety.

“I’ll make myself something to take from here so I don’t have to go out. Please.”

“I find it very difficult to say no to you,” I admit, kissing her instep. I want her safe and, until Leila’s apprehended, I’m not sure that she will be.

Ana’s giving me the big blue eyes.

“You won’t go out?” I ask.

“No.”

“Okay.”

She smiles, grateful, I think. “Thank you,” she says, spilling water over the side of the bath as she moves to her knees. She places her hands on my upper arms and kisses me.

“You’re most welcome, Miss Steele. How’s your behind?”

“Sore. But not too bad. The water is soothing.”

“I’m glad you told me to stop,” I say.

“So is my behind.”

I grin. “Let’s go to bed.”



I BRUSH MY TEETH and wander back into my bedroom, where Ana is in bed.

“Didn’t Ms. Acton provide any nightwear?” I ask. I’m sure she has some silk and satin nightgowns.

“I have no idea. I like wearing your T-shirts,” she replies, and her eyelids droop.

Boy, she’s exhausted. I lean forward and kiss her forehead.

I still have some work to do, but I want to stay with Ana. I’ve been in her company all day, and it’s been lovely.

I never want this day to end.

“I need to work. But I don’t want to leave you alone. Can I use your laptop to log in to the office? Will I disturb you if I work from here?”

“S’not my laptop,” she mumbles, and closes her eyes.