wooden post.

“Lower,” he orders. “Good. Don’t let go. If you do, I’ll spank you. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.”

He stands behind me and grasps my hips, and then quickly lifts me backward so I’m

bending forward, holding the post.

“Don’t let go, Anastasia,” he warns. “I’m going to fuck you hard from behind. Hold

the post to support your weight. Understand?”

“Yes.”

He smacks me across my behind with his hand. Ow…It stings.

“Yes, Sir,” I mutter quickly.

“Part your legs.” He puts his leg between mine, and holding my hips, he pushes my

right leg to the side.

“That’s better. After this, I’ll let you sleep.”

Sleep? I’m panting. I’m not thinking of sleep now. He reaches up and gently strokes

my back.

“You have such beautiful skin, Anastasia,” he breathes as he bends down and kisses

me along my spine, gentle feather-light kisses. At the same time, his hands move round to

my front palming my breasts, and as he does this, he traps my nipples between his fingers

and tugs them gently.

I stifle my moan as I feel my whole body respond, coming alive once more for him.

He gently bites and sucks me at my waist, tugging my nipples, and my hands tighten

on the exquisitely carved post. His hands drop away, and I hear the now familiar tear of

foil, and he kicks off his jeans.

“You have such a captivating, sexy ass, Anastasia Steele. What I’d like to do to it.”

His hands smooth and shape each of my buttocks, then his fingers glide down, and he slips

two fingers inside me.

“So wet. You never disappoint, Miss Steele,” he whispers, and I hear the wonder in his

voice. “Hold tight… this is going to be quick, baby.”

He grabs my hips and positions himself, and I brace myself for his assault. But he

reaches over me and grabs my braid near the end and winds it round his wrist to my nape

holding my head in place. Very slowly he eases into me, pulling my hair at the same

time… oh the fullness.He eases out of me slowly, and his other hand grabs my hip, hold-

ing tight, and then he slams into me, jolting me forward.

“Hold on, Anastasia!” he shouts through clenched teeth.

I grip harder round the post and push back against him as he continues his merciless

onslaught, again and again, his fingers digging into my hip. My arms are aching, my

legs feel uncertain, my scalp is getting sore from his tugging my hair… and I can feel a

gathering deep inside me. Oh no… and for the first time, I fear my orgasm… if I come…

I’ll collapse. Christian continues to move roughly against me, in me, his breathing harsh,

moaning, groaning. My body is responding … how?I feel a quickening. But suddenly,

Christian stills, slamming really deep.

“Come on, Ana, give it to me,” he groans, and my name on his lips sends me over the

edge as I become all body and spiraling sensation and sweet, sweet release, and then com-

pletely and utterly mindless.

When sense returns, I’m lying on him. He’s on the floor, and I’m lying on top of him,

my back to his front, and I’m staring at the ceiling, all post-coital, glowing, shattered. Oh…

the karabiners,I think absently – I’d forgotten about those. Christian nuzzles my ear.

“Hold up your hands,” he says softly.

My arms feel like they’re made of lead, but I hold them up. He wields the scissors and

passes one blade under the plastic.

“I declare this Ana open,” he breathes, and cuts the plastic.

I giggle and rub my wrists as they’re freed. I feel his grin.

“That is such a lovely sound,” he says wistfully. He sits suddenly, taking me with him

so that I’m once more sitting in his lap.

“That’s my fault,” he says and shifts me so that he can rub my shoulders and arms.

Gently he massages some life back into my limbs

What?

I glance up at him behind me, trying to understand what he means.

“That you don’t giggle more often.”

“I’m not a great giggler,” I mumble sleepily.

“Oh, but when it happens, Miss Steele, ‘tis a wonder and joy to behold.”

“Very flowery, Mr. Grey,” I mutter, trying to keep my eyes open.

His eyes soften, and he smiles.

“I’d say you’re thoroughly fucked and in need of sleep.”

“That wasn’t flowery at all,” I grumble playfully.

He grins and gently lifts me off him and stands, gloriously naked. I wish momentarily

that I were more awake to really appreciate him. Picking up his jeans, he slides them back

on, commando.

“Don’t want to frighten Taylor, or Mrs. Jones for that matter,” he mutters.

Hmm… they must know what a kinky bastard he is. The thought preoccupies me.

He stoops to help me to my feet and leads me to the door, on the back of which hangs a

grey waffle robe. He patiently dresses me as if I’m a small child. I don’t have the strength

to lift my arms. When I’m covered and respectable, he leans down and kisses me gently,

his mouth quirks up in a smile.

“Bed,” he says.

Oh… no…

“For sleep,” he adds reassuringly when he sees my expression.

Suddenly, he scoops me up and carries me curled against his chest to the room along

the corridor where earlier today Dr. Greene examined me. My head drops against his chest.

I am exhausted. I don’t remember ever being this tired. Pulling back the duvet, he lays me

down, and even more surprisingly, climbs in beside me and holds me close.

“Sleep now, gorgeous girl,” he whispers, and he kisses my hair.

And before I can make a facetious comment, I’m asleep.

Soft lips brush across my temple, leaving sweet tender kisses in their wake, and part of me

wants to turn and respond, but mostly I want to stay asleep. I moan and burrow into my

pillow.

“Anastasia, wake up.” Christian’s voice is soft, cajoling.

“No,” I moan.

“We have to leave in half an hour for dinner at my parents.” He’s amused.

I open my eyes reluctantly. It’s dusk outside. Christian is leaning over, gazing at me

intently.

“Come on sleepy-head. Get up.” He stoops down and kisses me again.

“I’ve bought you a drink. I’ll be downstairs. Don’t go back to sleep, or you’ll be in

trouble,” he threatens, but his tone is mild. He kisses me briefly and exits, leaving me

blinking sleep from my eyes in the cool, stark room.

I’m refreshed but suddenly nervous. Holy cow, I am meeting his folks! He’s just

worked me over with a riding crop and tied me up using a cable tie which I sold him, for

heaven’s sake – and I’m going to meet his parents. It will be Kate’s first time meeting them

too – at least she’ll be there for support. I roll my shoulders. They’re stiff. His demands

for a personal trainer don’t seem so outlandish now, in fact, they’re mandatory if I am to

have any hope of keeping up with him.

I climb slowly out of bed and note that my dress is hanging outside the wardrobe and

my bra is on the chair. Where are my panties? I check beneath the chair. Nothing. Then

I remember – he squirreled them away in the pocket of his jeans. I flush at the memory,

after he, I can’t even bring myself to think about it, he was so – barbarous. I frown. Why

hasn’t he given me back my panties?

I steal into the bathroom, bewildered by my lack of underwear. While drying myself

after my enjoyable but far too brief shower, I realize he’s done this on purpose. He wants

me to be embarrassed and ask for my panties back, and he’ll either say yes or no. My inner

goddess grins at me. Hell… two can play that particular game.Resolving there and then