Part II 15

She laughs. “No, Ana. Can I fix you a drink orsomething? You look beat.”“I’d love a glass of wine.”“White?”“Yes, please.”I perch on one of the bar stools, and she hands me aglass of chilled wine. I don’t know what it is, but it’sdelicious and slides down easily, soothing my shatterednerves. What was I thinking about earlier today? Howalive I ha一ve felt since I met Christian. How exciting my lifehas become. Jeez, could I just ha一ve a few boring days?What if I’d never met Christian? I’d be holed up in myapartment, talking it through with Ethan, completelyfreaked by my encounter with Jack, knowing I would ha一veto face the sleazeball again on Friday. As it is, there’severy chance I’ll never set eyes on him again. But who willI work for now? I frown. I hadn’t thought of that. Shit, doI even ha一ve a job?“Evening, Gail,” Christian says as he comes back intothe great room, dragging me from my thoughts. Headingstraight to the fridge, he pours himself a glass of wine.“Good evening, Mr. Grey. Dinner in ten, sir?”“Sounds good.”Christian raises his glass.“To ex-military men who train their daughters well,” hesays and his eyes soften.“Cheers,” I mutter, raising my glass.“What’s wrong?” Christian asks.“I don’t know if I still ha一ve a job.”He cocks his head to the side. “Do you still want one?”“Of course.”“Then you still ha一ve one.”Simple. See? He is master of my universe. I roll myeyes at him and he smiles.eyes at him and he smiles.Mrs. Jones makes a mean chicken potpie. She has left usto enjoy the fruits of her labors, and I feel much better nowI’ve had something to eat. We are sitting at the breakfastbar, and despite my best cajoling, Christian won’t tell mewhat Barney has found on Jack’s computer. I drop thesubject, and decide to tackle instead the thorny issue ofJosé’s impending visit.“José called,” I say nonchalantly.“Oh?” Christian turns to face me.“He wants to deliver your photos on Friday.”“A personal delivery. How accommodating of him,”Christian mutters.“He wants to go out. For a drink. With me.”“I see.”“And Kate and Elliot should be back,” I add quickly.Christian puts his fork down, frowning at me.“What exactly are you asking?”“What exactly are you asking?”I bristle. “I’m not asking anything. I’m informing you ofmy plans for Friday. Look, I want to see José, and hewants to stay over. Either he stays here or he can stay atmy place, but if he does I should be there, too.”Christian’s eyes widen. He looks dumbfounded.“He made a pass at you.”“Christian, that was weeks ago. He was drunk, I wasdrunk, you sa一ved the day—it won’t happen again. He’s noJack, for hea一ven’s sake.”“Ethan’s there. He can keep him company.”“He wants to see me, not Ethan.”Christian scowls at me.“He’s just a friend.” My voice is emphatic.“I don’t like it.”So what? Jeez, he’s irritating sometimes. I take a deepbreath. “He’s my friend, Christian. I ha一ven’t seen him sincehis show. And that was too brief. I know you don’t ha一veany friends, apart from that god-awful woman, but I don’tmoan about you seeing her,” I snap. Christian blinks,moan about you seeing her,” I snap. Christian blinks,shocked. “I want to see him. I’ve been a poor friend tohim.” My subconscious is alarmed. Are you stampingyour little foot? Steady now!Gray eyes blaze at me. “Is that what you think?” hebreathes.“Think about what?”“Elena. You’d rather I didn’t see her?”Holy cow. “Exactly. I’d rather you didn’t see her.”“Why didn’t you say?”“Because it’s not my place to say. You think she’syour only friend.” I shrug in exasperation. He reallydoesn’t get it. How did this turn into a conversation abouther? I don’t even want to think about her. I try to steer usback to José. “Just as it’s not your place to say if I can orcan’t see José. Don’t you see that?”Christian gazes at me, perplexed, I think. Oh, what ishe thinking?“He can stay here, I suppose,” he mutters. “I can keepan eye on him.” He sounds petulant.Hallelujah!“Thank you! You know, if I am going to live here,too . . .” I trail off. Christian nods. He knows what I’mtrying to say. “It’s not like you ha一ven’t got the space.” Ismirk.His lips quirk up slowly. “Are you smirking at me, MissSteele?”“Most definitely, Mr. Grey.” I get up just in case hispalms start twitching, clear our plates, and then load theminto the dishwasher.“Gail will do that.”“I’ve done it now.” I stand up and gaze at him. He’swatching me intently.“I ha一ve to work for a while,” he says apologetically.“Cool. I’ll find something to do.”“Come here,” he orders, but his voice is soft andseductive, his eyes heated. I don’t hesitate to walk into hisarms, clasping him around his neck as he perches on hisbar stool. He wraps his arms around me, crushes me tohim, and just holds me.him, and just holds me.“Are you okay?” he whispers into my hair.“Okay?”“After what happened with that fucker? After whathappened yesterday?” he adds, his voice quiet andearnest.I gaze into dark, serious, gray eyes. Am I okay?“Yes,” I whisper.His arms tighten around me, and I feel safe, cherished,and loved all at once. It’s blissful. Closing my eyes, I enjoythe feel of being in his arms. I love this man. I love hisintoxicating scent, his strength, his mercurial ways—myFifty.“Let’s not fight,” he murmurs. He kisses my hair andinhales deeply. “You smell hea一venly as usual, Ana.”“So do you,” I whisper and kiss his neck.All too soon he releases me. “I should only be a coupleof hours.”I wander listlessly through the apartment. Christian is stillworking. I ha一ve showered and dressed in some sweatsand a T-shirt of my own, and I’m bored. I don’t want toread. If I sit still, I’ll recall Jack and his fingers on me.I check out my old bedroom, the subs’ room. José cansleep here—he’ll like the view. It’s about eight fifteen, andthe sun is beginning to sink into the west. The lights of thecity twinkle below me. It’s glorious. Yes, José will like ithere. I wonder idly where Christian will hang José’spictures of me. I’d rather he didn’t. I am not keen onlooking at myself.Back down the hallway I find myself outside theplayroom, and without thinking, I try the door handle.Christian normally keeps it locked, but to my surprise, thedoor opens. How strange. Feeling like a child playinghooky and straying into the forbidden forest, I walk in. It’sdark. I flick the switch and the lights under the cornice lightup with a soft glow. It’s as I remember it. A womb-likeroom.Memories of the last time I was in here flash throughmy mind. The belt . . . I wince at the recollection. Now ithangs innocently, lined up with others, on the rack besidethe door. Tentatively I run my fingers over the belts, thefloggers, the paddles, and the whips. Sheesh. This is whatI need to square with Dr. Flynn. Can someone in thislifestyle just stop? It seems so improbable. Wanderingover to the bed, I sit on soft red satin sheets, gazingaround at all the apparatus.Beside me is the bench, above that the assortment ofcanes. So many! Surely one is enough? Well, the lesssaid about that the better. And the large table. We nevertried that, whatever he does on it. My eyes fall on thechesterfield, and I move over to sit on it. It’s just a couch,nothing extraordinary about it—nothing to fasten anythingto, not that I can see. Glancing behind me, I spy themuseum chest. My curiosity is piqued. What does he keepin there?As I pull open the top drawer I realize my blood ispounding through my veins. Why am I so nervous? Thispounding through my veins. Why am I so nervous? Thisfeels so illicit, as if I’m trespassing, which of course I am.But if he wants to marry me, well . . .Holy fuck, what’s all this? An array of instruments andbizarre implements—I don’t ha一ve a clue what they are, orwhat they’re for—are carefully laid out in the displaydrawer. I pick one up. It’s bullet-shaped with a sort ofhandle. Hmm . . . what the hell do you do with that?My mind boggles, though I think I ha一ve an idea. Jeez,there are four different sizes! My scalp prickles and Iglance up.Christian is standing in the doorway, staring at me, hisface unreadable. How long has he been there? I feel likeI’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.“Hi.” I smile nervously at him, and I know my eyes arewide and that I’m deathly pale.“What are you doing?” he says softly, but there’s anundercurrent in his tone.Oh shit. Is he mad? I flush. “Er . . . I was bored andcurious,” I mutter, embarrassed to be found out. He saidcurious,” I mutter, embarrassed to be found out. He saidhe’d be two hours.“That’s a very dangerous combination.” He runs hislong index finger across his lower lip in quietcontemplation, not taking his eyes off me. I swallow andmy mouth is dry.Slowly, he enters the room and closes the door quietlybehind him, his eyes liquid gray fire. Oh my. He leanscasually over the chest of drawers, but I think his stance isdeceptive. My inner goddess doesn’t know whether it’sfight or flight time.“So, what exactly are you curious about, Miss Steele?Perhaps I could enlighten you.”“The door was open . . . I—” I gaze at Christian as Ihold my breath and blink, uncertain as ever of his reactionor what I should say. His eyes are dark. I think he’samused, but it’s difficult to tell. He places his elbows onthe museum chest and rests his chin on his clasped hands.“I was in here earlier today wondering what to do withit all. I must ha一ve forgotten to lock it.” He scowlsmomentarily as if lea一ving the door unlocked is a terriblelapse in judgment. I frown—it’s not like him to beforgetful.“Oh?”“But now here you are, curious as ever.” His voice issoft, puzzled.“You’re not mad?” I whisper, using my remainingbreath.He cocks his head to one side, and his lips twitch inamusement.“Why would I be mad?”“I feel like I’m trespassing . . . and you’re always madat me.” My voice is quiet, though I’m relieved. Christian’sbrow creases once more.“Yes, you’re trespassing, but I’m not mad. I hope thatone day you’ll live with me here, and all this”—he gesturesvaguely round the room with one hand—“will be yours,too.”My playroom . . . eh? I gape at him—that’s a lot totake in.take in.“That’s why I was in here today. Trying to decide whatto do.” He taps his lips with his index finger. “Am I angrywith you all the time? I wasn’t this morning.”Oh, that’s true. I smile at the memory of Christianwhen we woke, and it distracts me from the thought ofwhat will become of the playroom. He was such fun Fiftythis morning.“You were playful. I like playful Christian.”“Do you now?” He arches an eyebrow, and hisbeautiful mouth curves up in a smile, a shy smile. Wow!“What’s this?” I hold up the silver bullet thing.“Always hungry for information, Miss Steele. That’s abutt plug,” he says gently.“Oh . . .”“Bought for you.”What? “For me?”He nods slowly, his face now serious and wary.I frown. “You buy new, er . . . toys . . . for eachsubmissive?”submissive?”“Some things. Yes.”“Butt plugs?”“Yes.”Okay . . . I swallow. Butt plug. It’s solid metal—surelythat’s uncomfortable? I remember our discussion aboutsex toys and hard limits after I graduated. I think at thetime I said I would try. Now, actually seeing one, I don’tknow if it’s something I want to do. I examine it oncemore and place it back in the drawer.“And this?” I take out a long, black rubbery object,made of gradually diminishing spherical bubbles joinedtogether, the first one large and the last much smaller. Eightbubbles in total.“Anal beads,” says Christian, watching me carefully.Oh! I examine them with fascinated horror. All ofthese, inside me . . . there! I had no idea.“They ha一ve quite an effect if you pull them out midorgasm,”he adds matter-of-factly.“This is for me?” I whisper.“For you.” He nods slowly.“This is the butt drawer?”He smirks. “If you like.”I close it quickly, flushing like a stoplight.“Don’t you like the butt drawer?” he asks innocently,amused. I gaze at him and shrug, trying to brazen out myshock.“It’s not top of my Christmas card list,” I mutternonchalantly. Tentatively, I open the second drawer. Hegrins.“Next drawer down holds a selection of vibrators.”I shut the drawer quickly.“And the next?” I whisper, ashen once more, but thistime with embarrassment.“That’s more interesting.”Oh! Hesitantly I pull the drawer open, not taking myeyes off his beautiful but rather smug face. Inside there arean assortment of metal items and some clothespins.Clothespins! I pick up a large metal clip-like device.“Genital clamp,” Christian says. He stands up and“Genital clamp,” Christian says. He stands up andmoves casually around so that he’s beside me. I put itback immediately and choose something more delicate—two small clips on a chain.“Some of these are for pain, but most are forpleasure,” he murmurs.“What’s this?”“Nipple clamps—that’s for both.”“Both? Nipples?”Christian smirks at me. “Well, there are two clamps,baby. Yes, both nipples, but that’s not what I meant.These are for both pleasure and pain.”Oh. He takes it from me.“Hold out your little finger.”I do as he asks, and he clamps one clip to the tip of myfinger. It’s not too harsh.“The sensation is very intense, but it’s when takingthem off that they are at their most painfuland pleasurable.” I remove the clip. Hmm, that might benice. I squirm at the thought.nice. I squirm at the thought.“I like the look of these,” I murmur and Christiansmiles.“Do you now, Miss Steele? I think I can tell.”I nod shyly, biting my lip. He reaches up and tugs onmy chin so I release my bottom lip.“You know what that does to me,” he murmurs.I put the clips back in the drawer, and Christian leansforward and pulls out two more.“These are adjustable.” He holds them up for me toinspect.“Adjustable?”“You can wear them very tight . . . or not. Dependingon your mood.”How does he make that sound so erotic? I swallow,and to divert his attention, pull out a device that looks likea spiky pastry cutter.“This?” I frown. No baking in the playroom, surely.“That’s a Wartenberg pinwheel.”“For?”He reaches over and takes it from me. “Give me yourhand. Palm up.”I offer him my left hand and he takes it gently, skatinghis thumb over my knuckles. A shiver runs through me. Hisskin against mine, it never fails to thrill me. He runs thewheel over my palm.“Ah!” The prongs bite into my skin—there’s more thanjust pain. In fact, it tickles slightly.“Imagine that over your breasts,” Christian murmurslasciviously.Oh! I flush and snatch my hand back. My breathingand heart rate increase. Holy cow.“There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain,Anastasia,” he says softly as he leans down and puts thedevice back in the drawer.“Clothespins?” I whisper.“You can do a great deal with a clothespins.” His grayeyes burn.I lean against the drawer so it closes.“Is that all?” Christian looks amused.“Is that all?” Christian looks amused.“No . . .” I pull open the fourth drawer to beconfounded by a mass of leather and straps. I tug at one ofthe straps . . . it appears to be attached to a ball.“Ball gag. To keep you quiet,” says Christian, amusedonce more.“Soft limit,” I mutter.“I remember,” he says. “But you can still breathe. Yourteeth clamp over the ball.” Taking it from me, he replicatesa mouth clamping down on the ball with his fingers.“Ha一ve you worn one of these?” I ask.He stills and gazes down at me. “Yes.”“To mask your screams?”He closes his eyes, and I think it’s in exasperation.“No, that’s not what they’re about.”Oh?“It’s about control, Anastasia. How helpless wouldyou be if you were tied up and couldn’t speak? Howtrusting would you ha一ve to be, knowing I had that muchpower over you? That I had to read your body and yourpower over you? That I had to read your body and yourreaction, rather than hear your words? It makes you moredependent, puts me in ultimate control.”I swallow.“You sound like you miss it.”“It’s what I know,” he murmurs, gazing down at me.His gray eyes are wide and serious, and the atmospherebetween us has changed as if he’s in the confessional.“You ha一ve power over me. You know you do,” Iwhisper.“Do I? You make me feel . . . helpless.”“No!” Oh Fifty . . . “Why?”“Because you’re the only person I know who couldreally hurt me.” He reaches up and tucks my hair behindmy ear.“Oh, Christian . . . that works both ways. If you didn’twant me—” I shudder, glancing down at my twistingfingers. Therein lays my other dark reservation about us. Ifhe wasn’t so . . . broken, would he want me? I shake myhead. I must try not to think like that.“The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I love you,” Imurmur, reaching up to run my fingers through his sideburnand gently stroke his cheek. He leans his face into mytouch, drops the gag back in the drawer, and reaches forme, his hands around my waist. He pulls me against him.“Ha一ve we finished show and tell?” he asks, his voicesoft and seductive. His hand moves up my back to thenape of my neck.“Why? What did you want to do?”He bends and kisses me gently, and I melt against him,grasping his arms.“Ana, you were nearly attacked today.” His voice issoft but ice-cold and wary.“So?” I ask, enjoying the feel of his hand at my backand his proximity. He pulls his head back and scowlsdown at me.“What do you mean, ‘so?’ ” he rebukes.I gaze up into his lovely, grumpy face, and I’m dazzled.“Christian, I’m fine.”He wraps me in his arms, holding me close. “When IHe wraps me in his arms, holding me close. “When Ithink what might ha一ve happened,” he breathes, burying hisface in my hair.“When will you learn that I’m stronger than I look?” Iwhisper reassuringly into his neck, inhaling his deliciousscent. There is nothing better on the planet than being inChristian’s arms.“I know you’re strong,” Christian muses quietly. Hekisses my hair, then to my great disappointment, releasesme. Oh?Bending down I fish another item out of the opendrawer. Several cuffs attached to a bar. I hold it up.“That,” says Christian, his eyes darkening, “is aspreader bar with ankle and wrist restraints.”“How does it work?” I ask, genuinely intrigued. Myinner goddess pops her head out of her bunker.“You want me to show you?” he breathes in surprise,closing his eyes briefly.I blink at him. When he opens his eyes, they areblazing.blazing.Oh my. “Yes, I want a demonstration. I like being tiedup,” I whisper as my inner goddess pole vaults from thebunker onto her chaise longue.“Oh, Ana,” he murmurs. He looks pained all of asudden.“What?”“Not here.”“What do you mean?”“I want you in my bed, not in here. Come.” He grabsthe bar and my hand, then leads me promptly out of theroom.Why are we lea一ving? I glance behind me as we exit.“Why not in there?”Christian stops on the stairs and gazes up at me, hisexpression gra一ve.“Ana, you may be ready to go back in there, but I’mnot. Last time we were in there, you left me. I keep tellingyou—when will you understand?” He frowns, releasing meso that he can gesticulate with his free hand.“My whole attitude has changed as a result. My wholeoutlook on life has radically shifted. I’ve told you this.What I ha一ven’t told you is—” He stops and runs his handthrough his hair, searching for the correct words. “I’m likea recovering alcoholic, okay? That’s the only comparison Ican draw. The compulsion has gone, but I don’t want toput temptation in my way. I don’t want to hurt you.”He looks so remorseful, and in that moment, a sharpnagging pain lances through me. What ha一ve I done to thisman? Ha一ve I improved his life? He was happy before hemet me, wasn’t he?“I can’t bear to hurt you because I love you,” he adds,gazing up at me, his expression one of absolute sinceritylike a small boy telling a very simple truth.He’s completely guileless, and he takes my breathaway. I adore him more than anything or anyone. I do lovethis man unconditionally.I launch myself at him so hard that he has to drop whathe’s carrying to catch me as I push him up against the wall.Grabbing his face between my hands, I pull his lips toGrabbing his face between my hands, I pull his lips tomine. I can taste his surprise as I push my tongue into hismouth. I am standing on the step above him—we’re at thesame level, and I feel euphorically empowered. Kissinghim passionately, my fingers twisting into his hair, I want totouch him, everywhere, but restrain myself, knowing hisfear. Regardless, my desire unfurls, hot and hea一vy,blossoming deep inside me. He groans and grabs myshoulders, pushing me away.“Do you want me to fuck you on the stairs?” hemutters, his breathing ragged. “Because right now, I will.”“Yes,” I murmur and I’m sure my dark gaze matcheshis.He glares at me, his eyes hooded and hea一vy. “No. Iwant you in my bed.” He scoops me up suddenly over hisshoulder, making me squeal, loudly, and smacks me hardon my behind, so that I squeal again. As he heads downthe stairs, he stoops to pick up the fallen spreader bar.Mrs. Jones is coming out of the utility room when wepass through the hall. She smiles at us, and I give her anpass through the hall. She smiles at us, and I give her anapologetic upside-down wa一ve. I don’t think Christiannotices her.In the bedroom, he sets me down on my feet anddrops the spreader on to the bed.“I don’t think you’ll hurt me,” I breathe.“I don’t think I’ll hurt you, either,” he says. He takesmy head in his hands and kisses me, long and hard, ignitingmy already heated blood.“I want you so much,” he whispers against my mouth,panting. “Are you sure about this—after today?’“Yes. I want you, too. I want to undress you.” I can’twait to get my hands on him—my fingers are itching totouch him.His eyes widen and for a moment, he hesitates,perhaps to consider my request.“Okay,” he says cautiously.I reach for the second button on his shirt and hear himcatch his breath.“I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to,” I whisper.“No,” he responds quickly. “Do. It’s fine. I’m good,”he mutters.I gently undo the button and my fingers glide down hisshirt to the next. His eyes are large and luminous, his lipsparted as his breathing shallows. He is so beautiful, even inhis fear . . . because of his fear. I undo the third button andnotice his soft hair poking through the large V of the shirt.“I want to kiss you there,” I murmur.He inhales sharply. “Kiss me?”“Yes,” I murmur.His gasps as I undo the next button and very slowlylean forward, making my intention clear. He’s holding hisbreath, but stands stock-still as I plant a gentle kiss amongthe soft, exposed curls. I undo the final button and lift myface to him. He’s gazing at me, and there’s a look ofsatisfaction, calm, and . . . wonder on his face.“It’s getting easier, isn’t it?” I whisper.He nods as I slowly push his shirt off his shoulders andlet it fall to the floor.“What ha一ve you done to me, Ana?” he murmurs.“What ha一ve you done to me, Ana?” he murmurs.“Whatever it is, don’t stop.” And he gathers me in hisarms, fisting both his hands in my hair and pulling my headright back so that he can ha一ve easy access to my throat.He runs his lips up to my jaw, nipping softly. I groan.Oh, I want this man. My fingers fumble at his waistband,undoing the button and pulling down the zipper.“Oh, baby,” he breathes as he kisses me behind myear. I feel his erection, firm and hard, straining against me.I want him—in my mouth. I step back abruptly and dropto my knees.“Whoa?” he gasps.I tug his pants and boxers sharply, and he springs free.Before he can stop me, I take him into my mouth, suckinghard, enjoying his shocked astonishment as his mouthdrops open. He gazes down at me, watching my everymove, eyes so dark and filled with carnal bliss. Oh my. Isheath my teeth and suck harder. He closes his eyes andsurrenders to this blissful carnal pleasure is so arousing. Iknow what I do to him, and it’s hedonistic, liberating, andknow what I do to him, and it’s hedonistic, liberating, andsexy as hell. The feeling is heady, I’m not just powerful—I’m omniscient.“Fuck,” he hisses and gently cradles my head, flexinghis hips so he moves deeper inside my mouth. Oh yes, Iwant this and I swirl my tongue around him, pullinghard . . . over and over.“Ana.” He tries to step back.Oh no you don’t, Grey. I want you . I grab his hipsfirmly, doubling my efforts, and I can tell he’s close.“Please,” he pants. “I’m gonna come, Ana,” he groans.Good. My inner goddess’s head is thrown back inecstasy, and he comes, loudly and wetly, into my mouth.He opens his bright gray eyes, gazing down at me, andI smile up at him, licking my lips. He grins back at me, awicked, salacious grin.“Oh, so this is the game we’re playing, Miss Steele?”He bends, hooks his hands under my arms, and pulls meto my feet. Suddenly his mouth is on mine. He groans.“I can taste myself. You taste better,” he murmursagainst my lips. He tugs my T-shirt off and throws itcarelessly onto the floor, then picks me up and tosses meonto the bed. Grabbing the end of my sweats, he tugsabruptly so that they come off in one swift move. I’mnaked underneath, sprawled across his bed. Waiting.Wanting. His eyes drink me in, and slowly he removes hisremaining clothes, not taking his eyes off me.“You are one beautiful woman, Anastasia,” hemurmurs appreciatively.Hmm . . . I tilt my head coquettishly to one side andbeam at him.“You are one beautiful man, Christian, and you tastemighty fine.”He gives me a wicked grin and reaches for thespreader bar. Grabbing my left ankle, he quickly cuffs it,strapping the buckle tightly, but not too tight. He tests howmuch room I ha一ve by sliding his little finger between thecuff and my ankle. He doesn’t take his eyes off mine; hedoesn’t need to see what he’s doing. Hmm . . . he’s donethis before.this before.“We’ll ha一ve to see how you taste. If I recall, you’re arare, exquisite delicacy, Miss Steele.”Oh.Grasping my other ankle, he quickly and efficientlycuffs that one as well, so that my feet are about two feetapart.“The good thing about this spreader is, it expands,” hemurmurs. He clicks something on the bar, then pushes, somy legs spread further. Whoa, three feet apart. My mouthdrops open, and I take a deep breath. Fuck, this is hot.I’m on fire, restless and needy.Christian licks his lower lip.“Oh, we’re going to ha一ve some fun with this, Ana.”Reaching down he grasps the bar and twists it so I flip onto my front. It takes me by surprise.“See what I can do to you?” he says darkly and twistsit again abruptly, so I am once more on my back, gapingup at him, breathless.“These other cuffs are for your wrists. I’ll think about“These other cuffs are for your wrists. I’ll think aboutthat. Depends if you beha一ve or not.”“When do I not beha一ve?”“I can think of a few infractions,” he says softly,running his fingers up the soles of my feet. It tickles, but thebar holds me in place, though I try to writhe away from hisfingers.“Your Blackberry, for one.”I gasp. “What are you going to do?”“Oh, I never disclose my plans.” He smirks, his eyesalight with pure devilment.Holy cow. He’s so mind-bogglingly sexy, it takes mybreath away.He crawls up the bed so that he’s kneeling betweenmy legs, gloriously naked, and I’m helpless.“Hmm. You are so exposed, Miss Steele.” He runs thefingers of both his hands up the inside of each of my legs,slowly, surely, making small circular patterns. Neverbreaking eye contact with me.“It’s all about anticipation, Ana. What will I do toyou?” His softly spoken words penetrate right to thedeepest, darkest, part of me. I wriggle on the bed andmoan. His fingers continue their slow assault up my legs,past the backs of my knees. Instinctively, I want to closemy legs but I can’t.“Remember, if you don’t like something, just tell me tostop,” he murmurs. Bending over, he kisses my belly, soft,sucky kisses while his hands continue their slow tortuousjourney north up my inner thighs, touching and teasing.“Oh please, Christian,” I plead.“Oh, Miss Steele. I’ve discovered you can bemerciless in your amorous assaults upon me. I think Ishould return the fa一vor.”My fingers clutch the duvet as I surrender myself tohim, his mouth gently heading south, his fingers north, tothe vulnerable and exposed apex of my thighs. I groan ashe eases his fingers inside me and buck my pelvis up tomeet them. Christian moans in response.“You never cease to amaze me, Ana. You’re so wet,”he murmurs against the line where my pubic hair joins myhe murmurs against the line where my pubic hair joins mybelly. My body bows as his mouth finds me.Oh my.He begins a slow and sensual assault, his tongueswirling around and around while his fingers move insideme. Because I can’t close my legs, or move, it’s intense,really intense. My back arches as I try to absorb thesensations.“Oh, Christian,” I cry.“I know, baby,” he whispers, and to ease up on me, heblows softly on the most sensitive part of my body.“Arrgh! Please!” I beg.“Say my name,” he commands.“Christian,” I call, hardly recognizing my own voice—it’s so high-pitched and needy.“Again,” he breathes.“Christian, Christian, Christian Grey,” I call out loudly.“You are mine.” His voice is soft and deadly and withone last flick of his tongue, I fall—spectacularly—embracing my orgasm, and because my legs are so farembracing my orgasm, and because my legs are so farapart, it goes on and on and I am lost.Vaguely, I’m aware that Christian has flipped me on tomy front.“We’re going to try this, baby. If you don’t like it, orit’s too uncomfortable, tell me, and we’ll stop.”What? I am too lost in the afterglow to form anysentient or coherent thoughts. I am sitting on Christian’slap. How did that happen?“Lean down, baby,” he murmurs at my ear. “Head andchest on the bed.”In a daze I do as I’m told. He pulls both my handsbackward and cuffs them to the bar, next to my ankles.Oh . . . My knees are drawn up, my ass in the air, utterlyvulnerable, completely his.“Ana, you look so beautiful.” His voice is full ofwonder, and I hear the rip of foil. He runs his fingers fromthe base of my spine down toward my sex and pauses abeat over my ass.“When you’re ready, I want this, too.” His finger ishovering over me. I gasp loudly as I feel myself tenseunder his gentle probing. “Not today, sweet Ana, but oneday . . . I want you every way. I want to possess everyinch of you. You’re mine.”I think about the butt plug, and everything tightensdeep inside me. His words make me groan, and his fingersmove down and around to more familiar territory.Moments later, he’s slamming into me. “Aagh! Gently,”I cry, and he stills.“You okay?”“Gently . . . let me get used to this.”He eases slowly out of me then eases gently back,filling me, stretching me, twice, thrice, and I am helpless.“Yes, good, I’ve got it now,” I murmur, relishing thefeeling.He groans, and picks up his rhythm. Moving,moving . . . relentless . . . onward, inward, filling me . . .and it’s exquisite. There’s joy in my helplessness, joy in mysurrender to him, and to know that he can lose himself inme the way he wants to. I can do this. He takes me tome the way he wants to. I can do this. He takes me tothese dark places, places I didn’t know existed, andtogether we fill them with blinding light. Oh yes . . . blazing,blinding light.And I let go, glorying in what he does to me, findingmy sweet, sweet release, as I come again, loudly,screaming his name. And he stills, pouring his heart andsoul into me.“Ana, baby,” he cries and collapses beside me.His fingers deftly undo the straps, and he rubs my anklesthen my wrists. When he’s finished and I’m finally free, hepulls me into his arms and I drift, exhausted.When I surface again, I am curled beside him and he’sgazing at me. I ha一ve no idea what the time is.“I could watch you sleep forever, Ana,” he murmursand he kisses my forehead.I smile and shift languorously beside him.“I never want to let you go,” he says softly and wraps“I never want to let you go,” he says softly and wrapshis arms around me.Hmm. “I never want to go. Never let me go,” I muttersleepily, my eyelids refusing to open.“I need you,” he whispers, but his voice is a distant,ethereal part of my dreams. He needs me . . . needsme . . . and as I finally slip into the darkness, my lastthoughts are of a small boy with gray eyes and dirty,messy, copper-colored hair smiling shyly at me.Hmm.Christian is nuzzling my neck as I slowly wake.“Morning, baby,” he whispers and nips at my earlobe.My eyes flutter open and close again quickly. Bright earlymorning light floods the room, and his hand is softlycaressing my breast, gently teasing me. Moving down hegrasps my hip as he lies behind me, holding me close.I stretch out beside him, relishing his touch, and feel hiserection against my behind. Oh my. A Christian Greywake-up call.“You’re pleased to see me,” I mumble sleepily,squirming suggestively against him. I feel his grin against myjaw.“I’m very pleased to see you,” he says as he skates hishand over my stomach and down to cup my sex andexplore with his fingers. “There are definite advantages towaking up beside you, Miss Steele,” he teases and gentlypulls me round so that I’m lying on my back.“Sleep well?” he asks as his fingers continue their“Sleep well?” he asks as his fingers continue theirsensual torture. He’s smiling down at me—his dazzling, all-American-drop-dead-male-model-perfect-teeth smile. Hetakes my breath away.My hips begin to sway to the rhythm of the dance hisfingers ha一ve begun. He kisses me chastely on the lips andthen moves down my neck, nipping slowly, kissing, andsucking as he goes. I moan. He’s gentle and his touch islight and hea一venly. His intrepid fingers move down, andslowly he eases one inside me, hissing quietly in awe.“Oh, Ana,” he murmurs reverentially against my throat.“You’re always ready.” He moves his finger in time withhis kisses as his lips journey leisurely across my cla一vicleand then down to my breast. He torments first one, thenthe other nipple with teeth and lips, but oh-so-gently, andthey tighten and lengthen in sweet response.I groan.“Hmm,” he growls softly and raises his head to give mea blazing gray-eyed look. “I want you now.” He reachesover to the bedside table. He shifts on top of me, takinghis weight on his elbows, and rubs his nose along minewhile easing my legs apart with his. He kneels up and ripsopen the foil packet.“I can’t wait until Saturday,” he says, his eyes glowingwith salacious delight.“Your party?” I pant.“No. I can stop using these fuckers.”“Aptly named.” I giggle.He smirks at me as he rolls on the condom. “Are yougiggling, Miss Steele?”giggling, Miss Steele?”“No.” I try and fail to straighten my face.“Now is not the time for giggling.” He shakes his headin admonishment and his voice is low, stern, but hisexpression—holy cow—is glacial and volcanic at once.My breath catches in my throat. “I thought you liked itwhen I giggle,” I whisper hoarsely, gazing into the darkdepths of his stormy eyes.“Not now. There’s a time and a place for giggling. Thisis neither. I need to stop you, and I think I know how,” hesays ominously, and his body covers mine.“What would you like for breakfast, Ana?”“I’ll just ha一ve some granola. Thank you, Mrs. Jones.”I flush as I take my place at the breakfast bar besideChristian. The last time I set eyes on the very prim andproper Mrs. Jones, I was being unceremoniously draggedinto the bedroom over Christian’s shoulder.“You look lovely,” Christian says softly. I’m wearingmy gray pencil skirt and gray silk blouse again.“So do you.” I smile shyly at him. He’s wearing a paleblue shirt and jeans, and he looks cool and fresh andperfect, as always.“We should buy you some more skirts,” he saysmatter-of-factly. “In fact—I’d love to take you shopping.”Hmm—shopping. I hate shopping. But with Christian,maybe it won’t be so bad. I decide on distraction as thebest form of defense.“I wonder what will happen at work today?”“I wonder what will happen at work today?”“They’ll ha一ve to replace the sleazeball.” Christianfrowns, scowling as if he’s just stepped in somethingextraordinarily unpleasant.“I hope they take on a woman as my new boss.”“Why?”“Well, you’re less likely to object to me going awaywith her,” I tease him.His lips twitch and he starts on his omelet.“What’s so funny?” I ask.“You are. Eat your granola, all of it, if that’s all you’reha一ving.”Bossy as ever. I purse my lips at him, but dig in.“So, the key goes here.” Christian points out the ignitionbeneath the gearshift.“Strange place,” I mutter. But I’m delighted with everylittle detail, practically bouncing like a small child in thecomfortable leather seat. Christian has finally let me drivemy car.He regards me coolly, though his eyes are alight withhumor. “You’re quite excited about this, aren’t you?” hemurmurs, amused.I nod, grinning like a fool. “Just smell that new carsmell. This is even better than the Submissive Special . . .um, the A3,” I add quickly, blushing.Christian’s mouth twists. “Submissive Special, eh? Youha一ve such a way with words, Miss Steele.” He leans backwith a faux look of disapproval, but he can’t fool me. Iwith a faux look of disapproval, but he can’t fool me. Iknow he’s enjoying himself.“Well, let’s go.” He wa一ves his long-fingered handtoward the entrance of the garage.I clap my hands, start the car, and the engine purrs tolife. Putting the gearshift into drive, I ease my foot off thebrake and the Saab moves smoothly forward. Taylorstarts up the Audi behind us and once the garage barrierlifts, follows us out of Escala onto the street.“Can we ha一ve the radio on?” I ask as we wait at thefirst stop sign.“I want you to concentrate,” he says sharply.“Christian, please, I can drive with music on.” I roll myeyes. He scowls for a moment and then reaches for theradio.“You can play your iPod and mp3 discs as well asCDs on this,” he murmurs.The too-loud dulcet tones of The Police suddenly fillthe car. Christian turns the music down. Hmm . . . “Kingof Pain.”“Your anthem,” I tease him, then instantly regret itwhen his mouth tightens in a thin line. Oh no. “I ha一ve thisalbum, somewhere.” I continue hastily to distract him.Hmm . . . somewhere in the apartment I ha一ve spent verylittle time in.I wonder how Ethan is. I should try to call him today. Iwon’t ha一ve much to do at work.Anxiety blooms in my stomach. What will happenwhen I get to the office? Will everyone know about Jack?Will everyone know of Christian’s involvement? Will I stillha一ve a job? Sheesh, if I ha一ve no job, what will I do?Marry the gazillionaire, Ana! My subconscious hasher snarky face on. I ignore her—rapacious bitch.“Hey, Miss Smart Mouth. Come back.” Christiandrags me into the here and now as I pull up at the nextstoplight.“You’re very distracted. Concentrate, Ana,” he scolds.“Accidents happen when you don’t concentrate.”Oh, for hea一ven’s sake—and suddenly I’m catapultedback in time to when Ray was teaching me to drive. Idon’t need another father. A husband maybe, a kinkyhusband. Hmm.“I’m just thinking about work.”“Baby, you’ll be fine. Trust me.” Christian smiles.“Please don’t interfere—I want to do this on my own.Christian, please. It’s important to me,” I say as gently as Ican. I don’t want to argue. His mouth sets once more intoa hard stubborn line, and I think he’s going to berate meagain.Oh no.“Let’s not argue, Christian. We’ve had such awonderful morning. And last night was—” Words fail me,last night was—“Hea一ven.”He says nothing. I glance over at him and his eyes areclosed.“Yes. Hea一ven,” he says softly. “I meant what I said.”“What?”“I don’t want to let you go.”“I don’t want to go.”He smiles and it’s this new, shy smile that dissolveseverything in its path. Boy, it’s powerful.“Good,” he says simply, and he visibly relaxes.I drive into the parking lot half a block from SIP.“I’ll walk you to work. Taylor will take me fromthere,” Christian offers. I clamber out of the car, restrictedby my pencil skirt while Christian climbs out gracefully, atease with his body or giving the impression of someone atease with his body. Hmm . . . someone who can’t bear tobe touched can’t be that at ease. I frown at my errantthought.“Don’t forget we’re seeing Flynn at seven thisevening,” he says as he holds his hand out to me. I pressthe remote door lock and take his hand.“I won’t forget. I’ll compile a list of questions for him.”“Questions? About me?”I nod.“I can answer any questions you ha一ve about me.”Christian looks affronted.I smile at him. “Yes, but I want the unbiased,expensive charlatan’s opinion.”He frowns and suddenly pulls me into his embrace,holding both my hands tightly behind my back.“Is this a good idea?” he says, his voice low andhusky. I lean back to see the anxiety looming large andwide in his eyes. It tears at my soul.“If you don’t want me to, I won’t.” I stare at him,blinking, wanting to caress the concern out of his face. Itug on one of my hands and he frees it. I touch his cheektenderly—it’s smooth from sha一ving this morning.“What are you worried about?” I ask, my voice softand soothing.“That you’ll go.”“Christian, how many times do I ha一ve to tell you—I’mnot going anywhere. You’ve already told me the worst.I’m not lea一ving you.”“Then why ha一ven’t you answered me?”“Answered you?” I murmur disingenuously.“You know what I’m talking about, Ana.”I sigh. “I want to know that I’m enough for you,Christian. That’s all.”“And you won’t take my word for it?” he saysexasperated, releasing me.“Christian, this has all been so quick. And by your ownadmission, you’re fifty shades of fucked-up. I can’t giveyou what you need,” I mutter. “It’s just not for me. Butthat makes me feel inadequate, especially seeing you withLeila. Who’s to say that one day you won’t meet someonewho likes doing what you do? And who’s to say youwon’t, you know . . . fall for her? Someone much bettersuited to your needs.” The thought of Christian withanyone else sickens me. I stare down at my knottedfingers.“I knew several women who like doing what I like todo. None of them appealed to me the way you do. I’venever had an emotional connection with any of them. It’sonly ever been you, Ana.”only ever been you, Ana.”“Because you never ga一ve them a chance. You’ve spenttoo long locked up in your fortress, Christian. Look, let’sdiscuss this later. I ha一ve to go to work. Maybe Dr. Flynncan offer us his insight.” This is all far too hea一vy adiscussion for a parking lot at eight fifty in the morning, andChristian, for once, seems to agree. He nods but his eyesare wary.“Come,” he orders, holding out his hand.When I reach my desk, I find a note asking me to gostraight to Elizabeth’s office. My heart leaps into mymouth. Oh, this is it. I’m going to get fired.“Anastasia.” Elizabeth smiles kindly, wa一ving me into achair before her desk. I sit and gaze at her expectantly,hoping that she can’t hear my thumping heart. Shesmoothes her thick black hair and regards with me withsomber, clear blue eyes.“I ha一ve some rather sad news.”Sad! Oh no.“I’ve called you in to inform you that Jack has left thecompany rather suddenly.”I flush. This isn’t sad for me. Should I tell her that Iknow?“His rather hasty departure has left a vacancy, andwe’d like you to fill it for now, until we find areplacement.”What? I feel the blood rush from my head. Me?“But, I’ve only been here for a week or so.”“But, I’ve only been here for a week or so.”“Yes, Anastasia, I understand but Jack was always achampion of your abilities. He had high hopes for you.”I stop breathing. He had high hopes of getting me onmy back, sure.“Here’s a detailed job description. Ha一ve a good lookthrough it, and we can discuss it later today.”“But—”“Please, I know this is sudden, but you’ve alreadymade contact with Jack’s key authors. Your chapter notesha一ven’t gone unnoticed by the other commissioningeditors. You ha一ve a shrewd mind, Anastasia. We all thinkyou can do it.”“Okay.” This is unreal.“Look, think about it. In the meantime, you can takeJack’s office.”She stands, effectively dismissing me, and holds out herhand. I shake it in a complete daze.“I’m glad he’s gone,” she whispers and a haunted lookcrosses her face. Holy shit. What did he do to her?Back at my desk, I grab my Blackberry and callChristian.