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- Э. Л. Джеймс
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His
lips
arch
with
a
trace
of
a
smile
,
and
my
eyes
are
drawn
to
his
mouth
.
“
Well
,
I
thought
I
should
come
and
remind
you
how
nice
it
was
knowing
me
.
”
Holy
crap
.
I
stare
at
him
openmouthed
,
and
his
fingers
move
from
my
ear
to
my
chin
.
“
What
do
you
say
to
that
,
Miss
Steele
?
”
His
eyes
blaze
at
me
,
his
challenge
intrinsic
in
his
stare
.
His
lips
are
parted
—
he
’
s
waiting
,
coiled
to
strike
.
Desire
—
acute
,
liquid
,
and
smoldering
—
combusts
deep
in
my
belly
.
I
take
preemptive
action
and
launch
myself
at
him
.
Somehow
he
moves
,
I
have
no
idea
how
,
and
in
the
blink
of
an
eye
I
’
m
on
the
bed
,
pinned
beneath
him
,
my
arms
stretched
out
and
held
above
my
head
,
his
free
hand
clutching
my
face
,
and
his
mouth
finding
mine
.
His
tongue
is
in
my
mouth
,
claiming
and
possessing
me
,
and
I
revel
in
the
force
he
uses
.
I
feel
him
against
the
length
of
my
body
.
He
wants
me
,
and
this
does
strange
,
delicious
things
to
my
insides
.
Not
Kate
in
her
little
bikinis
,
not
one
of
the
fifteen
,
not
evil
Mrs
.
Robinson
.
Me
.
This
beautiful
man
wants
me
.
My
inner
goddess
glows
so
bright
she
could
light
up
Portland
.
He
stops
kissing
me
,
and
opening
my
eyes
,
I
find
him
gazing
down
at
me
.
“
Trust
me
?
”
he
breathes
.
I
nod
,
wide
-
eyed
,
my
heart
bouncing
off
my
ribs
,
my
blood
thundering
through
my
body
.
He
reaches
down
,
and
from
his
pants
pocket
,
he
takes
out
his
silver
-
gray
silk
tie
…
that
silver
-
gray
woven
tie
that
leaves
small
impressions
of
its
weave
on
my
skin
.
He
moves
so
quickly
,
sitting
astride
me
as
he
fastens
my
wrists
together
,
but
this
time
,
he
ties
the
other
end
of
the
tie
to
one
of
the
spokes
of
my
white
iron
headboard
.
He
pulls
at
my
binding
,
checking
it
’
s
secure
.
I
’
m
not
going
anywhere
.
I
’
m
tied
,
literally
,
to
my
bed
,
and
I
’
m
so
aroused
.
