Fifty Shades Darker (book 5)

Chapter 26

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“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby, but I do want to mess with you and these sheets.” We’re going to get sticky and so is

her bedding.

Now to the important question: Will she or won’t she? “I want to tie you up,” I whisper. In the silence that stretches

between us I hear her soft gasp.

Oh, that sound.

“Okay,” she says.

“Just your hands. To the bed. I need you still.”

“Okay,” she repeats. Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

I stalk toward her, our eyes locked. “We’ll use this.” I grab the sash from her robe, tug gently, and her robe opens,

revealing a naked Ana; a further tug and the sash is free. With a gentle push at the shoulders, her robe falls to the

floor. She doesn’t take her eyes off mine and she doesn’t make any attempt to cover herself.

Well done, Ana.

My knuckles graze her cheek; her face is smooth like satin beneath my touch. I give her a quick peck on the lips.

“Lie on the bed, faceup.”

Showtime, baby.

I sense Ana’s anticipation as she does what she’s told, lying down on the bed for me. Standing over her, I take a

moment to admire her.

My girl.

My stunning girl. Long legs, narrow waist, perfect tits. Her flawless skin is radiant in the dusky light and her eyes

glint darkly with carnal longing as she waits.

I’m a lucky guy.

My body stiffens in agreement.

“I could look at you all day, Anastasia.”

The mattress dips as I crawl onto it and straddle her. “Arms above your head,” I demand. She complies

immediately, and, using the sash, I fasten her wrists together, then to the metal spindles of her headboard.

There.

What a mighty fine sight she is…

I give her a quick and grateful peck on the lips and climb off the bed. Once I’m standing, I pull off my shirt and

jeans and place a condom on the bedside table.

Now. What to do?

At the end of the bed once more, I grab her ankles and pull her down the mattress so that her arms are fully

extended. The less she can move, the more intense the sensations will be.

“That’s better,” I mutter to myself.

Grabbing the ice cream and spoon, I straddle her again. She bites her lip as I lift the lid and try to scoop out a

spoonful. “Hmm, it’s still quite hard.” I contemplate smearing some of this on me and inserting myself into her

mouth. But as I taste how cold it is, I fear it might have a negative, shriveling effect on my body.

That would be inconvenient.

“Delicious.” I lick my lips for effect as it melts in my mouth. “Amazing how good plain old vanilla can taste.” I watch

her and she grins at me, her expression luminous. “Want some?”

She nods—a little uncertain, I think.

I take another spoonful, and offer her the contents so that she opens her mouth. I change my mind and pop it into

my mouth. It’s like taking candy from a baby. “This is too good to share,” I declare, teasing her.

“Hey,” she starts.

“Why, Miss Steele, do you like your vanilla?”

“Yes,” she exclaims, and surprises me by trying to buck me off, but my weight is no match for her.

I laugh. “Getting feisty, are we? I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

She stills. “Ice cream,” she whines, pouting in frustration.

“Well, as you’ve pleased me so much today, Miss Steele.” I scoop some more onto the spoon and present it to

her. She regards me with amused uncertainty, but she parts her lips and I acquiesce, tipping the vanilla into her

mouth. My erection hardens as I imagine her lips around me.

All in good time, Grey.

Gently, I ease the spoon from her mouth and scoop up more ice cream. She takes the second spoonful greedily.

It’s a little runnier, as it’s beginning to melt from the warmth of my hand around the tub. Slowly, I feed her another

spoonful.

“Hmm, well, this is one way to ensure you eat. Force-feed you. I could get used to this.”

She clamps her mouth shut when I offer her more and there’s a defiant gleam in her eye as she shakes her head.

She’s had enough. I tip the spoon and oh-so-slowly the melted ice cream drips onto her throat and as I move the

spoon the drips fall on her sternum. Her mouth opens.

Oh yes, baby.

Bending down, I lick her clean with my tongue.

“Mmm. Tastes even better off you, Miss Steele.”

She tries to flex her arms, pulling against her robe tie, but it holds, keeping her in place. The next spoonful I

dribble artfully over her breasts and nipples, watching with fascination as each nipple hardens under the cold

assault. With the back of the spoon I spread the vanilla over each pebbled peak and she squirms beneath me.

“Cold?” I ask, and, not waiting for an answer, I gorge myself, licking and lapping wherever there are rivulets of ice

cream, sucking at her breasts, elongating her nipples further. She closes her eyes and groans.

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