Fifty Shades Darker (book 5) novel Chapter 26

“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.

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.