50 shades of gray

Chapter 2 - If At First You Don't Succeed

My vision returns to normal very slowly. Christian's arm is supporting me so I don't collapse completely to the floor. We're both panting raggedly and I feel like every inch of my skin is covered in sweat, not all of it mine.

I wince as he pulls out of me, pulling me upright. My ass is sore, my crotch is sore, my thighs are sore. Hell, even my feet are sore. He discards the condom into the waste basket and sits me down on the front of his desk, sopping with fluids of all varieties, probably ruining the beautiful leather top of his desk. I look down at the desk and notice the fingernail marks I left in the leather already.

I can't help myself, I start to giggle. At first, I try to cover my mouth and stifle it, hide it, but they just grow and grow until I'm full-on guffawing. He is quite a site to behold. He's just as sweaty as I am, and though he's still wearing his dress shirt, he's completely naked from the waist down. He's pacing back and forth, running both hands through his hair, muttering to himself. I suppose I don't look much better, with Kate's dress hiked up to my waist, her heels dangling barely from my feet, my entire groin exposed and dripping. Who knew sex would be so messy?

He turns on me like a bolt. "What the fuck, Anastasia?" Oh shit, he's really pissed.

I swallow my laughter with a hiccup. "Sorry."

"Sorry?!"

"I wasn't laughing at that," I start.

"Not the fucking laughing." His voice has dropped to a hush. Now it's really scary. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"

I gulp. I had no idea he'd be able to tell.

He stares at me. I stare back. Seasons change, it seems like we're silent for so long.

"Well?"

I finally murmur, "It didn't really come up."

He goes back to his pacing, running his fingers through his hair. I want to run my fingers through his hair. I feel that warmth down in what I now know to be the deepest part of my vagina.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think it would matter."

He stops and looks at me again. "Well, it does fucking matter, Anastasia!" He's yelling again.

"I didn't think you would notice."

He stops. His expression changes to what I think is sadness. No, more than that. Devastation.

"That's not why it matters." His voice is soft, consoling. "It matters because that's not how..." He sighs as he walks over to me slowly, taking my face between both of his hands. He kisses me tenderly on the lips, letting his tongue bump mine before pulling back. He tastes like sweet wine. "That's not how your first time should have gone." He kisses me again, sweetly at first, but then growing in fervor as he lifts my knees up with his hands and lets them slide up the underside of each thigh. I lose my shoes to the floor with a thump thump.

I wrap my arms around his neck and I swear he flinches. He lets go of my legs and slowly unclasps my arms from around him. He pulls back to look me in the eyes. Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he leans in and bites my bottom lip. Hard. I moan into his mouth, but never let my eyes close. It seems almost like he's challenging me with his stare.

I rest my hands on my thighs and wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles together, pulling him closer. I feel his dick against me and know that he's ready to go again. I groan again and he releases my lip from between his teeth.

His hands find the zipper in the back of my dress and slowly open it. His fingers graze my spine along the way and my back arches, pushing my chest into his. I feel his dick twitch between my legs.