Fifty Shades Darker (book 5)

Chapter 27

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“Want some?” I take a large mouthful, swallowing some, then kissing her, thrusting my tongue and

ice cream into her waiting mouth.

Ben. And. Jerry’s. And. Ana.

Exquisite.

I sit up and scoot back so I’m straddling her thighs and dribble melted ice cream off the spoon from

the bottom of her sternum and down the center of her abdomen. I leave a large dollop of vanilla in

her navel. Her eyes spring open in heated surprise.

“Now, you’ve done this before,” I warn. “You’re going to have to stay still, or there will be ice cream

all over the bed.” I pop a large spoonful of vanilla into my mouth and return to her breasts, sucking

each of her nipples in turn with my cool lips and tongue. I crawl down her body, following the melted

ice cream, lapping it up. She writhes beneath me, her hips pulsing in a familiar rhythm.

Oh, baby, if you kept still you’d feel so much more.

I devour what’s left of the ice cream in her navel using my tongue.

She’s sticky. But not everywhere.

Yet.

I kneel between her thighs and trail another spoonful of ice cream down her belly and into her pubic

hair, to my ultimate goal. I dribble the remaining vanilla onto her swollen clitoris. She cries out and

tenses her legs.

“Hush now.” Leaning down, I slowly lick and suck her clean.

“Oh. Please. Christian.”

“I know, baby, I know,” I whisper against her sensitive skin but continue my lascivious invasion. Her

legs tense again. She’s close.

Abandoning the tub of vanilla so that it falls to the floor, I ease one finger inside her, then another,

enjoying how wet, warm, and welcoming her body feels, and concentrate on her sweet, sweet spot,

caressing her, feeling her, knowing that she’s nearly there. Her climax imminent.

“Just here,” I murmur, as my fingers slowly pump in and out of her.

She lets out a strangled cry as her body convulses around my fingers.

Yes.

I withdraw my hand and reach over for the foil packet. And even though I hate these things, it takes

only a second to put on. I hover over her while she’s still in the throes of her orgasm and thrust into

her. “Oh yes!” I moan.

She’s heaven.

My heaven.

But she’s sticky. All over. My skin is sticking to hers and it’s disconcerting. I withdraw and flip her

onto her elbows and knees. “This way,” I mutter, and reach forward to undo the sash, freeing her

hands. When she’s free I pull her up so she’s sitting astride me: her back to my front. I palm her

breasts and tug on her nipples as she groans and tilts her head back so that it’s resting on my

shoulder. I nuzzle her neck and begin flexing my hips, driving deeper inside her. She smells of

apples and vanilla and Ana.

My favorite fragrance.

“Do you know how much you mean to me?” I whisper into her ear as her head is thrown back in

ecstasy.

“No,” she breathes.

I gently wrap my fingers around her jaw and throat, stilling her.

“Yes, you do. I’m not going to let you go.”

Never.

I love you.

“You are mine, Anastasia.”

“Yes, yours.”

“I take care of what’s mine,” I whisper, and my teeth graze her earlobe.

She cries out.

“That’s right, baby, I want to hear you.”

I want to take care of you.

I curl my arm around her waist, holding her against me while I grasp her hip with my other hand.

And I continue to thrust inside her. She rises and falls with me, crying out, moaning, groaning.

Sweat beads on my back, on my forehead, and on my chest, so we’re slipping and sliding against

each other as she rides me. She fists her hands and stops moving, her legs braced around me, her

eyes closed as she lets out a silent cry.

“Come on, baby,” I growl through clenched teeth, and she comes, screaming a garbled version of

my name. I let go, coming inside her and losing all sense of self.

We sink onto the bed and I wrap her in my arms as we lie in a sticky, sugary, panting mess together. Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

I take a deep breath as her hair brushes against my lips.

Will it always be this way?

Mind-blowing.

I close my eyes and enjoy this lucid, quiet moment of peace.

After a while she stirs. “What I feel for you frightens me,” she says, a little hoarse.

“Me, too, baby.” More than you know.

“What if you leave me?”

What? Why would I leave her? I’ve been lost without her. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t think I

could ever have my fill of you, Anastasia.”

She turns in my arms and studies me, her eyes dark and intense, and I have no idea what she’s

thinking. She leans up and kisses me, a soft, tender kiss.

What the hell is she thinking?

I tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear. I have to make her believe I’m here for the long haul, for as long

as she’ll have me. “I’ve never felt the way I felt when you left, Anastasia. I would move heaven and

earth to avoid feeling like that again.”

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