ELENA
Can we do dinner?
Not at the moment, Elena. I just can’t deal with her at this time. I press delete. It’s after midday and I realize I’ve heard nothing more from Ana. I type a quick e-mail.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Crickets
Date: June 15 2011 12:15
To: Anastasia Steele
I haven’t heard from you.
Please tell me you are okay.
You know how I worry.
I will send Taylor to check!
x
Christian Grey
Overanxious CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
My next meeting is lunch with the mayor and his delegation. They want a tour of the building, and my PR guy is beside himself. Sam’s all about raising the profile of the company, though sometimes I think it’s about elevating his own profile.
Andrea knocks and opens the door. “Sam’s here, Mr. Grey,” she says.
“Show him in. Oh, can you update the contacts on my phone?”
“Sure.” I hand her my phone and she stands aside to let Sam enter. He gives me a supercilious smile and starts a run-through of the various photo opportunities he’s planned for the tour. Sam is a pretentious man and a recent hire I’m beginning to regret.
There’s a knock on the door and Andrea pokes her head around. “I have Anastasia Steele on your phone. But I can’t bring it to you—it’s downloading your contacts, and I’m not brave enough to stop it mid-sync.”
I leap up, ignoring Sam, and follow her to her desk. She hands me the phone, which is on such a short cable I have to bend over her computer.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Ana replies. Thank goodness.
“Christian, why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“You’re normally so quick at responding to my e-mails. After what I told you yesterday, I was worried.” I keep my voice low. I don’t want Andrea or the new girl to hear me.
“Mr. Grey.” Andrea is holding her phone to her neck and trying to get my attention. “The mayor and his delegation are in reception downstairs. Shall I ask them to come up?
“No, Andrea. Tell them to wait.”
She looks stricken. “I think it’s too late; they’re on their way.”
“No. I said wait.”
Shit.
“Christian, you’re obviously busy. I only called to let you know that I’m okay, and I mean that, just very busy today. Jack has been cracking the whip. Er…I mean—” She stops.
What an interesting choice of words.
“Cracking the whip, eh? Well, there was a time when I would have called him a lucky man. Don’t let him get on top of you, baby.”
“Christian!” she scolds.
And I grin. I like shocking her. “Just watch him, that’s all. Look, I’m glad you’re okay. What time should I pick you up?”
“I’ll e-mail you.”
“From your BlackBerry,” I emphasize.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Laters, baby.”
“Bye.”
I glance up and see the elevator is climbing to the executive floor. The mayor is on his way.
“Hang up,” she says, and I hear the smile in her voice.
“I wish you’d never gone to work this morning.”
“Me, too. But I am busy. Hang up.”
“You hang up.” I grin.
“We’ve been here before,” she says in that teasing tone she has.
“You’re biting your lip.”
She inhales, quickly.
“You see, you think I don’t know you, Anastasia. But I know you better than you think.”
“Christian, I’ll talk to you later. Right now, I really wish I hadn’t left this morning, too.”
“I’ll wait for your e-mail, Miss Steele.”
“Good day, Mr. Grey.”
She hangs up as the elevator doors open.
BY 3:45 I’M BACK in my office. The mayor’s visit was a success and a PR windfall for GEH. Andrea buzzes me.
“Yes?”
“I have Mia Grey on the line for you.”
“Put her through.”
“Christian?”
“Hi.”
“We’re having a party for your birthday on Saturday and I want to invite Anastasia.”
“Whatever happened to ‘Hello? How are you?’ ”
Mia makes a dismissive noise. “Spare me one of your lectures, big brother.”
“I’m busy on Saturday.”
“Cancel it. It’s happening.”
“Mia!”
“No ifs or buts. What’s Ana’s number?”
I sigh and stay silent.
“Christian!” she shouts down the phone.
Jesus. “I’ll text it to you.”
“No bailing. You’ll disappoint Mom and Dad and me and Elliot!”
I sigh. “Whatever, Mia.”
“Great! See you then. Bye.” She hangs up and I stare at the phone with frustrated amusement. My sister is a pain in the ass. I hate birthdays. Well, my birthday. Reluctantly, I text Mia Ana’s number, knowing that I’m unleashing the force that is my little sister on an unsuspecting victim.
I go back to reading a report.
When I finish, I check my e-mail and there’s one from Ana.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Antediluvian
Date: June 15 2011 16:11
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey
When, exactly, were you going to tell me?
What shall I get my old man for his birthday?
Perhaps some new batteries for his hearing aid?
A x
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
Mia is as good as her word. She hasn’t wasted any time. I have some fun with my response.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Prehistoric
Date: June 15 2011 16:20
To: Anastasia Steele
Don’t mock the elderly.
Glad you are alive and kicking.
And that Mia has been in touch.
Batteries are always useful.
I don’t like celebrating my birthday.
x
Christian Grey
Deaf as a Post CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Hmmm.
Date: June 15 2011 16:24
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey
I can imagine you pouting as you wrote that last sentence.
That does things to me.
A xox
Anastasia Steele
Assistant to Jack Hyde, Editor, SIP
Her reply makes me laugh out loud, but what do I have to do to make her use her phone?
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Rolling Eyes
Date: June 15 2011 16:29
To: Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele
WILL YOU USE YOUR BLACKBERRY!!!
x
Christian Grey
Twitchy Palmed CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
I await her answer. It does not disappoint.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Inspiration
Date: June 15 2011 16:33
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey
Ah…your twitchy palms can’t stay still for long, can they?
I wonder what Dr. Flynn would say about that?
But now I know what to give you for your birthday—and I hope it makes me sore…
;)
A x
Finally, she’s using her phone. And she wants to be sore. My mind goes into overdrive imagining the possibilities this presents.
I shift in my seat as I type my response.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Angina
Date: June 15 2011 16:38
To: Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele
I don’t think my heart could stand the strain of another e-mail like that, or my pants for that matter.
Behave.
x
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Trying
Date: June 15 2011 16:42
To: Christian Grey
Christian
I am trying to work for my very trying boss.
Please stop bothering me and being trying yourself.
Your last e-mail nearly made me combust.
x
P.S.: Can you pick me up at 6:30?
From: Christian Grey
Subject: I’ll Be There
Date: June 15 2011 16:47
To: Anastasia Steele
Nothing would give me greater pleasure.
Actually, I can think of any number of things that would give me greater pleasure, and they all involve you.
x
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.
TAYLOR AND I PULL up outside her office at 6:27. I should only have a few minutes to wait.
I wonder if she’s had any thoughts about my proposal. Of course, she needs to talk to Flynn first. Perhaps he’ll tell her not to be a fool. The thought depresses me. I wonder if our days are numbered. But she knows the worst and she’s still here. I think there’s room for hope. I check my watch—6:38—and stare at the door of her office building.
Where is she?
Suddenly she’s in the street, the door swinging behind her. But she doesn’t head toward the car.
What gives?
She stops, looks around, and slowly sinks to the ground.
Fuck.
I open the car door and notice out of the corner of my eye that Taylor is doing the same.
We both rush to Ana, who is sitting on the sidewalk, looking faint. I sink down beside her. “Ana, Ana! What’s wrong?” I pull her into my lap to check what’s wrong, holding her head between my hands. She closes her eyes and sags against me as if in relief. “Ana.” I grasp her arms and shake her. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“Jack,” she whispers.
“Fuck.” Adrenaline sweeps through my body, leaving a murderous fury in its wake. I glance up at Taylor. He nods and disappears into the building. “What did that sleazeball do to you?”
Ana giggles. “It’s what I did to him.” And she doesn’t stop laughing. She’s hysterical. I’m going to kill him.
“Ana!” I give her a shake. “Did he touch you?”
“Only once,” she whispers, and her giggling stops.
Rage fuels my muscles as I stand holding her in my arms. “Where is that fucker?” From inside the building we can hear muffled shouts. I set Ana on her feet. “Can you stand?”
She nods. “Don’t go in. Don’t, Christian.”
“Get in the car.”
“Christian, no.” She clasps my arm.
“Get in the goddamned car, Ana.”
I’m going to kill him.
“No! Please!” she begs. “Stay. Don’t leave me on my own.”
I drag my hand through my hair, trying and failing to hang on to my temper while the muffled shouting inside SIP intensifies. Abruptly it stops.
I pull out my phone.
“Christian, he has my e-mails,” Ana says in a whisper.
“What?”
“My e-mails to you. He wanted to know where your e-mails to me were. He was trying to blackmail me.”
I think I’m going to have a coronary.
That motherfucking asshole.
“Fuck!” I growl, as I call Barney.
“Hello—”
“Barney. Grey. I need you to access the SIP main server and wipe all Anastasia Steele’s e-mails to me. Then access the personal data files of Jack Hyde and check they aren’t stored there. If they are, wipe them.”
“Hyde? H.Y.D.E.”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“All of them. Now. Let me know when it’s done.”
“Will do.”
I hang up and dial Roach’s number.
“Jerry Roach.”
“Roach. Grey.”
“Good evening—”
“Hyde. I want him out. Now.”
“But—” Roach blusters.
“This minute. Call security. Get him to clear his desk immediately or I will liquidate this company first thing in the morning.”
“Is there a reason—” Roach tries again.
“You already have all the justification you need to give him his pink slip.”
“You’ve read his confidential file?”
I ignore his question. “Do you understand?”
“Mr. Grey, I completely understand. Our HR director is always defending him. I’ll see to it. Good evening.”
I hang up, feeling somewhat mollified, and turn to Ana. “BlackBerry!”
“Please don’t be mad at me.”
“I am so mad at you right now,” I snap. “Get in the car.”
“Christian, please—”
“Get in the fucking car, Anastasia, or so help me I’ll put you in there myself.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, please,” she says.
“Stupid!” I see red. “I told you to use your fucking BlackBerry. Don’t talk to me about stupid. Get in the motherfucking car, Anastasia—now!”
“Okay.” She holds up her hands. “But, please, be careful.”
Stop shouting at her, Grey.
I point to the car.
“Please be careful,” she whispers, again. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It would kill me.”
And there it is. She cares. Her affection for me is plain in her words and in her kind, concerned expression.
Calm down, Grey. I take a deep breath.
“I’ll be careful,” I say, and I watch her walk to the Audi and climb in. Once she’s in the car, I turn on my heel and stride into the building.
I have no idea where to go, but I follow Hyde’s voice.
His irritating, whiny voice.
Taylor is standing outside an executive office, beside what must be Ana’s desk. Inside, Hyde is on the phone and a security guard stands over him with his arms crossed.
“I don’t give a fuck, Jerry.” Hyde is protesting into the phone. “The woman is a pricktease.”
I’ve heard enough.
I storm into his office.
“What the—” Hyde says, shocked to see me. He has a cut over his left eye and a purplish bruise is forming on his cheek. I suspect Taylor has been administering his own brand of discipline. I reach down to the phone cradle and press the hook, ending his call.
“Well, look what the fucking cat dragged in,” Hyde says and sneers. “The boy fucking wonder.”
“Pack your things. Get out. And she may not press charges.”
“Fuck you, Grey. I’ll be pressing charges against that little bitch, for kicking me in the balls in a completely unprovoked attack—and I’ll be sending your goon here down for assault, too. Hi, handsome,” he calls to Taylor, and blows him a kiss.
Taylor remains stoic.
“I won’t tell you again,” I state, glaring at the cocksucker.
“Like I said, fuck you. You can’t come in here throwing your fucking weight around.”
“I own this company. You are surplus to requirements. Get out while you can still walk.” My tone is low.
The color drains from Hyde’s face.
Yeah. Mine. Fuck you, Hyde.
“I knew it. I knew something shady was going on. That little bitch your spy?”
“If you mention Anastasia once more, if you even think about her, if you even think about thinking about her, I will end you.”
His eyes narrow. “You like it when she kicks you in the balls?”
I hit him square on the nose and he topples backward and smacks his head on the shelves behind him before he slumps onto the floor.
“You mentioned her. Get up. Clear your desk. And get out. You’re fired.”
Blood is pouring from his nose.
Taylor steps into his office with a box of tissues and places them on the desk for Hyde.
“You saw him,” Hyde whines to the security guard.
“I saw you fall,” the security guard says. The name on his badge is M. Mathur. Good job.
Hyde struggles onto his feet and grabs a handful of tissues to stem his nosebleed. “I’m pressing charges. She attacked me.” Hyde continues to snivel, but he begins to put his belongings in the box.
“Three hushed-up harassment cases in New York and Chicago and the two warnings you’ve had here. I don’t think you’d get very far.”
He regards me with dark eyes and unadulterated, feral hatred.
“Pack your things. You’re done,” I spit.
Turning, I head out of his office to wait with Taylor while Hyde packs up his stuff. I need to distance myself.
I want to kill him.
He takes forever, but he does it in silence. He’s mad. Real mad. I can almost smell his blood boiling. He gives me the occasional poisonous glance, but I remain impassive. The sight of his messed-up face gives me some satisfaction.
Eventually he’s done and he picks up the box. Mathur follows him out of the building.
“Are we finished here, Mr. Grey?” Taylor asks.
“For now.”
“I found him groveling on the floor, sir.”
“Really?”
“Miss Steele appears to know how to defend herself.”
“She’s always full of surprises. Let’s go.”
We follow Hyde out of the building and both of us head to the Audi. Because Ana is already in the front seat, Taylor gives me the key and I slide into the driver’s seat. Taylor gets into the back.
Ana is quiet as I pull out into the traffic.
I don’t know what to say to her.
The car phone rings.
“Grey,” I answer.
“Mr. Grey, Barney here.”
“Barney, I’m on speakerphone, and there are others in the car.”
“Sir, it’s all done. But I need to talk to you about what else I found on Mr. Hyde’s computer.”
“I’ll call you when I reach my destination. And thanks, Barney.”
“No problem, Mr. Grey.” He hangs up and I stop at a red light.
“Are you talking to me?” Ana asks.
I glance at her. “No,” I mutter. I’m still too mad. I told her he was trouble. And I told her to use her phone for e-mail. I was right about everything. I feel vindicated.
Grey, grow up, you’re behaving like a child.
Flynn’s words circle my brain. I’ve long held the belief that you never really had an adolescence—emotionally speaking. I think you’re experiencing it now.
I glance across at her in the hope I can say something amusing, but she’s staring out of the window. I’ll wait until we get home.
OUTSIDE ESCALA, I OPEN Ana’s car door while Taylor climbs into the driver’s seat.
“Come,” I say, and she takes my hand.
While we wait for the elevator, Ana whispers, “Christian, why are you so mad at me?”
“You know why.”
As we enter the elevator, I punch the code into the keypad. “God, if something had happened to you, he’d be dead by now. As it is, I’m going to ruin his career so he can’t take advantage of young women anymore, miserable excuse for a man that he is.” If anything had happened to her…Leila yesterday. Hyde today. Hell.
Slowly she sinks her teeth into her lower lip while staring at me.
“Jesus, Ana!” I pull her to me and twist so that she’s pinned in the corner of the elevator. Tugging her hair, upturning her face, I capture her lips with mine and pour my fear and desperation into my kiss. Her hands grasp my biceps as she returns my kiss, her tongue seeking mine. I pull back and we’re both breathless. “If anything had happened to you. If he’d harmed you—” I shudder. “BlackBerry. From now on. Understand?”
She nods, her expression earnest, and I straighten up and release her. “He said you kicked him in the balls.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Ray is ex-Army. He taught me well.”
“I’m very glad he did. I’ll need to remember that.” As we exit the elevator, I take her hand and we walk through the foyer and into the living room. Mrs. Jones is in the kitchen cooking. It smells good.
“I need to call Barney. I won’t be long.”
Sitting down at my desk, I pick up the phone.
“Mr. Grey.”
“Barney, what did you find on Hyde’s computer?”
“Well, sir, it was a little unsettling. There are articles and photographs of you, your mom and dad, and your brother and sister, all stored in one folder called ‘Greys.’ ”
“That’s odd.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Could you send me what he has?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And keep this between us for now.”
“Will do, Mr. Grey.”
“Thanks, Barney. And go home.”
“Yes, sir.”
Barney’s e-mail arrives almost immediately, and I open the “Greys” folder. Sure enough, there are online articles about my parents and their charitable work; articles on me, my company, Charlie Tango and the Gulfstream; and photographs of Elliot, my parents, and me taken, I assume, from Mia’s Facebook page. And last, two photos of Ana and me—at her graduation and at the photographer’s exhibition.
What the hell would Hyde want with all that shit? It makes no sense. I know he has a thing for Ana, that’s consistent with his modus operandi. But my family? Me? It’s like he’s obsessed with us. Or maybe it’s all about Ana? This is weird. And frankly disturbing. I resolve to call Welch in the morning to discuss. He can investigate further and get me some answers.
I close the e-mail, and sitting in my inbox are a couple of final acquisition agreements from Marco. I need to read them tonight—but first some dinner.
“Evening, Gail,” I call out to her when I’m back in the living room.
“Good evening, Mr. Grey. Dinner in ten, sir?”
Ana is sitting at the kitchen counter with a glass of wine. After dealing with that asshole, I think she’s earned it. I’ll join her. I retrieve the open bottle of Sancerre and pour one for myself.
“Sounds good,” I respond to Gail and raise my glass to Ana. “To ex-military men who train their daughters well.”
“Cheers,” she says, but she looks a little crestfallen.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if I still have a job.”
“Do you still want one?”
“Of course.”
“Then you still have one.”
She rolls her eyes, and I smile and take another sip of my wine.
“So, did you talk to Barney?” she asks, as I take a seat beside her.
“I did.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What did Jack have on his computer?”
“Nothing important.”
Mrs. Jones places our food in front of us. Chicken pot pie. One of my favorites.
“Thanks, Gail.”
“Enjoy, Mr. Grey. Ana,” she says pleasantly, and departs.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Ana persists.
“Tell you what?”
She sighs and purses her lips, then takes another bite of her meal.
The contents of Jack’s computer are not something I want Ana to worry about.
“José called,” she says, changing the subject.
“Oh?”
“He wants to deliver your photos on Friday.”
“A personal delivery.” Why is the artist doing this and not the gallery? “How accommodating of him.”
“He wants to go out. For a drink. With me.”
“I see.”
“And Kate and Elliot should be back.”
I put my fork down on my plate. “What exactly are you asking?”
“I’m not asking anything. I’m informing you of my plans for Friday. Look, I want to see José, and he wants to stay over. Either he stays here or he can stay at my place, but if he does, I should be there, too.”
“He made a pass at you.”
“Christian, that was weeks ago. He was drunk, I was drunk, you saved the day—it won’t happen again. He’s no Jack, for heaven’s sake.”
“Ethan’s there. He can keep him company.”
“He wants to see me, not Ethan,” Ana says.
I scowl at her.
“He’s just a friend,” she continues.
She’s already endured Hyde—what if Rodriguez gets drunk and tries his luck again with Ana? “I don’t like it.”
Ana takes a deep breath; she’s trying to keep her cool. “He’s my friend, Christian. I haven’t seen him since his show. And that was too brief. I know you don’t have any friends, apart from that god-awful woman, but I don’t moan about you seeing her.”
What has Elena got to do with this? And I’m reminded that I haven’t responded to her texts.
“I want to see him,” she continues. “I’ve been a poor friend to him.”
“Is that what you think?” I ask.
“Think about what?”
“Elena. You’d rather I didn’t see her?”
“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’s your only friend.” She’s exasperated. “Just as it’s not your place to say if I can or can’t see José. Don’t you see that?”
She has a point. If he stays here, then he can’t make a pass at her. Can he?
“He can stay here, I suppose. I can keep an eye on him.”
“Thank you! You know, if I am going to live here, too…” Her voice trails off.
Yes. She’ll need to invite her friends here. Jesus. I hadn’t thought about that.
“It’s not like you haven’t got the space.” She waves a hand in the general direction of my apartment.
“Are you smirking at me, Miss Steele?”
“Most definitely, Mr. Grey.” She gets up and clears both of our plates.
“Gail will do that,” I say as she sashays over to the dishwasher. But I’m too late.
“I’ve done it now.”
“I have to work for a while.”
“Cool. I’ll find something to do.”
“Come here.”
She steps between my legs and puts her arms around my neck. I hold her close against me. “Are you okay?” I whisper into her hair.
“Okay?”
“After what happened with that fucker? After what happened yesterday?” I lean back and study her expression.
“Yes,” she replies, solemn and emphatic.
To try to reassure me?
I tighten my arms around her. What a weird couple of days this has been. Too much too fast, maybe. And my old life impinging on my new one. She still hasn’t responded to my marriage proposal. Perhaps I shouldn’t push her for an answer right now.
She holds me close and, for the first time since this morning, I feel calm and centered. “Let’s not fight.” I kiss her hair. “You smell heavenly as usual, Ana.”
“So do you.” She kisses my neck.
Reluctantly, I release her and stand. I have to read those agreements. “I should only be a couple of hours.”
MY EYES ARE TIRED. I rub my face and pinch the bridge of my nose, and glance out of the window. It’s getting dark, but I’ve finished going through both documents. I’ve made notes and forwarded them to Marco.
Now it’s time to find Ana.
Maybe she’d like to watch TV or something. I loathe TV, but I’d sit with her and watch a film.
I expect to find her in the library, but she’s not there.
Maybe she took a bath?
No. She’s not in the bedroom or the ensuite.
I decide to check the sub’s room but on my way there I notice that the playroom door is open. Looking inside, I see Ana is sitting on the bed, gazing with distaste at all the canes. With a grimace she looks away.
I should get rid of them.
I lean against the doorframe in silence and watch her. She slips from the bed onto the couch, her hands running over the soft leather. She spies the chest of drawers, rises, makes her way toward it, and opens the top drawer.
Well, this is unexpected.
From the chest, she pulls out a large butt plug and, fascinated, examines it, then tests the weight in her hand. It’s a little big for a newcomer to anal pleasure, but I’m mesmerized by her captivated expression. Her hair is a little damp and she’s wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt.
No bra.
Nice.
Glancing up, she spots me by the door. “Hi,” she says, all breathy and nervous.
“What are you doing?”
She blushes. “Um, I was bored and curious.”
“That’s a very dangerous combination.” I wander into the room to join her. Leaning over, I glance at the open drawer to see what else is inside. “So, what exactly are you curious about, Miss Steele? Perhaps I could enlighten you.”
“The door was open,” she says hastily. “I—” She stops, looking guilty.
Put her out of her misery, Grey.
“I was in here earlier today, wondering what to do with it all. I must have forgotten to lock it.”
“Oh?”
“But now here you are, curious as ever.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“I feel like I’m trespassing. And you’re always mad at me.”
Am I? “Yes, you’re trespassing, but I’m not mad. I hope that one day you’ll live with me here, and all this”—I wave my hand around the room—“will be yours, too. That’s why I was in here today. Trying to decide what to do.” I watch her expression, thinking about what she’s just said. I’m mostly angry at myself, not her. “Am I angry with you all the time? I wasn’t this morning.”
She smiles. “You were playful. I like playful Christian.”
“Do you, now?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and returning her smile. I love her compliments.
“What’s this?” She holds up the toy she’s been examining.
“Always hungry for information, Miss Steele. That’s a butt plug.”
“Oh.” She looks surprised.
“Bought for you.”
“For me?”
I nod.
“You buy new, er…toys…for each submissive?”
“Some things. Yes.”
“Butt plugs?”
Definitely. “Yes.”
She eyes it warily and places it back in the drawer.
“And this?” She waves some anal beads at me.
“Anal beads.”
She runs them through her fingers—intrigued, I think.
“They have quite an effect if you pull them out mid-orgasm,” I add.
“This is for me?” she asks, referring to the beads. She keeps her voice low, as if she doesn’t want to be overheard.
“For you.”
“This is the butt drawer?”
I stifle my chuckle. “If you like.”
She turns a lovely shade of pink and closes it.
“Don’t you like the butt drawer?” I tease.
“It’s not top of my Christmas-card list.”
There’s her smart mouth. She opens the second drawer. Oh, this will be fun. “Next drawer down holds a selection of vibrators.”
She shuts it quickly. “And the next?”
“That’s more interesting.”
Slowly she opens the next one down. She picks out a toy and shows it to me.
“Genital clamp.” Hastily, she puts it back in the drawer and chooses something else. I remember they were a hard limit for her. “Some of these are for pain, but most are for pleasure,” I reassure her.
“What’s this?”
“Nipple clamps—that’s for both.”
“Both? Nipples?”
“Well, there are two clamps, baby. Yes, both nipples, but that’s not what I meant. These are for both pleasure and pain.” I take them from her. “Hold out your little finger.”
She complies, and I clamp the clip to the tip of her finger. Her breath catches. “The sensation is very intense, but it’s when taking them off that they are at their most painful and pleasurable.” She removes the clip. “I like the look of these.” Her voice is now husky, making me smile.
“Do you, now, Miss Steele? I think I can tell.”
She nods and places the clips back in the drawer. I lean forward and remove another set for her consideration.
“These are adjustable.” I hold them up to demonstrate.
“Adjustable?”
“You can wear them very tight, or not. Depending on your mood.”
Her eyes move from the clamp to my face and she licks her lower lip. She pulls out another toy. “This?” She’s intrigued.
“That’s a Wartenberg pinwheel.” I pop the adjustable clamps back in the drawer.
“For?”
I take it from her. “Give me your hand. Palm up.” She does, and I run the spiky wheel over the center of her hand.
“Ah!” She gasps.
“Imagine that over your breasts.”
She snatches her hand away, but the quick fall and rise of her chest reveals her excitement.
This is turning her on.
“There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain, Anastasia.” I place the pinwheel back in the drawer.
She’s looking at the other contents. “Clothespins?”
“You can do a great deal with a clothespin.”
But I don’t think it would be your thing, Ana.
She leans against the drawer, closing it.
“Is that all?” This is turning me on, too—I should take her downstairs.
“No.” She shakes her head, and, opening the fourth drawer, she retrieves one of my favorite devices. “Ball gag. To keep you quiet,” I inform her.
“Soft limit.”
“I remember. But you can still breathe. Your teeth clamp over the ball.” Taking it from her, I demonstrate with my hands how a ball gag fits into a mouth.
“Have you worn one of these?” she asks, curious as ever.
“Yes.”
“To mask your screams?”
“No, that’s not what they’re about.”
She cocks her head to one side, perplexed.
“It’s about control, Anastasia. How helpless would you be if you were tied up and couldn’t speak? How trusting would you have to be, knowing I had that much power over you? That I had to read your body and your reaction rather than hear your words? It makes you more dependent, puts me in ultimate control.”
“You sound like you miss it.” Her voice is barely audible.
“It’s what I know.”
“You have power over me. You know you do.”
“Do I? You make me feel…helpless.”
“No,” she counters, shocked, I think. “Why?”
“Because you’re the only person I know who could really hurt me.”
You hurt me when you left.
I tuck her hair behind her ear.
“Oh, Christian. That works both ways. If you didn’t want me—” A tremor runs through her and she gazes down at her fingers. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I love you.”
She strokes my face with both her hands and I savor her touch. It’s both arousing and comforting. I drop the ball gag back into the drawer and fold her in my arms. “Have we finished show-and-tell?”
“Why? What did you want to do?” Her tone is suggestive.
I kiss her gently and she presses her body against mine, making her intention clear. She wants me. “Ana, you were nearly attacked today.”
“So?” she breathes.
“What do you mean, ‘so’?” I feel a rush of annoyance.
“Christian, I’m fine.”
Are you, Ana?
I pull her closer, squeezing her. “When I think of what might have happened—” I bury my face in her hair and breathe.
“When will you learn that I’m stronger than I look?”
“I know you’re strong.” You put up with me. I kiss her and release her.
She pouts and to my surprise reaches down and fishes out another toy from the drawer. I thought we were done? “That’s a spreader bar with ankle and wrist restraints,” I tell her.
“How does it work?” She looks up at me through her lashes.
Oh, baby. I know that look.
“You want me to show you?” I close my eyes, briefly imagining her shackled and at my mercy. It’s arousing.
Very arousing.
“Yes, I want a demonstration. I like being tied up.”
“Oh, Ana,” I whisper. I want to. But I can’t in here.
“What?”
“Not here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want you in my bed, not in here. Come.” I take the bar and her hand and lead her out of the room.
“Why not in there?”
I stop on the stairs. “Ana, you may be ready to go back in there, but I’m not. Last time we were in there, you left me. I keep telling you—when will you understand? My whole attitude has changed as a result. My whole outlook on life has radically shifted. I’ve told you this. What I haven’t told you is—” I pause, searching for the right words. “I’m like a recovering alcoholic, okay? That’s the only comparison I can draw. The compulsion has gone, but I don’t want to put temptation in my way. I don’t want to hurt you.”
And I can’t trust you to tell me what you will and won’t do.
She frowns. “I can’t bear to hurt you because I love you,” I add. Her eyes soften, and before I can stop her she launches herself at me, so I have to drop the spreader bar to prevent us both from toppling down the stairs. She pins me to the wall, and because she’s standing on the step above me, we are lip to lip. She cups my face with both her hands and kisses me, pushing her tongue in my mouth. Her fingers are in my hair as she molds her body to mine. Her kiss is passionate, forgiving, and unrestrained.
I groan and gently push her away. “Do you want me to fuck you on the stairs?” I growl. “Because right now, I will.”
“Yes,” she says.
I look at her dazed expression. She wants this, and I’m tempted, as I’ve never fucked on the stairs, but it will be uncomfortable.
“No. I want you in my bed.” Scooping her up over my shoulder, I’m gratified by her squeal of delight. I smack her hard on her backside and she squeals again and laughs. Stooping, I pick up the spreader bar and carry it and Ana through the apartment to the bedroom, where I set her on her feet and drop the spreader bar on the bed.
“I don’t think you’ll hurt me,” she says.
“I don’t think I’ll hurt you, either.” I take her head in my hands and kiss her, hard, exploring her mouth with my tongue. “I want you so much. Are you sure about this, after today?’
“Yes. I want you, too. I want to undress you.”
Shit. She wants to touch you, Grey.
Let her.
“Okay.” I managed this yesterday.
She reaches for my shirt button and my breathing halts as I endeavor to bring my fear under control.
“I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”
“No. Do. It’s fine. I’m good.”
I steel myself, preparing for the confusion and fear that comes with the darkness. As she undoes one button and her fingers slide down to the next, I watch the concentration on her face, her beautiful face. “I want to kiss you there,” she says.
“Kiss me?” My chest?
“Yes.”
I inhale sharply as she undoes the next button. She looks up at me, then slowly, slowly, slowly leans forward.
She’s going to kiss me.
I hold my breath and watch her, terrified and fascinated at once, as she plants a gentle, sweet kiss on my chest.
The darkness remains quiet.
She undoes the final button and pulls my shirt apart. “It’s getting easier, isn’t it?”
I nod. It is. Much easier. She pushes my shirt off my shoulders so it drops to the floor. “What have you done to me, Ana? Whatever it is, don’t stop.” I pull her into my embrace and move my hands into her hair, gripping it and tugging her head back so I can kiss and nip her throat.
She groans, and her fingers are in my waistband, undoing my button and my fly.
“Oh, baby,” I whisper, and kiss her behind her ear where her pulse beats a fast, steady rhythm of need. Her fingers brush my erection, and abruptly she drops to her knees.
“Whoa!”
Before I can draw a breath, she tugs at my pants and wraps her lips around my eager cock.
Fuck.
She closes her mouth around me and sucks, hard.
I cannot take my eyes off her mouth.
Around me.
Drawing me in.
Out.
She sheaths her teeth and squeezes.
“Fuck.” I close my eyes, cradling her head and flexing my hips so that I move deeper and deeper into her mouth.
She taunts me with her tongue.
And moves her mouth up and down.
Again and again.
I tighten my grip on her head.
“Ana,” I warn, and try to step back.
She clamps down on my cock and grabs my hips.
She’s not going to let me go.
“Please.” And I don’t know if I want her to stop or carry on. “I’m gonna come, Ana.”
She’s merciless. Her mouth and tongue skilled. She’s not going to stop.
Oh, fuck.
I climax into her mouth, holding her head to steady myself.
When I open my eyes, she’s gazing up at me in triumph. She smiles and licks her lips.
“Oh, so this is the game we’re playing, Miss Steele?” I reach down and pull her to her feet and my lips find hers. With my tongue in her mouth, I taste her sweetness and my saltiness. It’s heady. I groan. “I can taste myself. You taste better.” I find the hem of her T-shirt and lift it over her head, then I pick her up and toss her on the bed. Grabbing the hem of her sweatpants, I yank them off in one move so she’s naked. I take my clothes off, keeping my eyes on hers. They darken, getting larger and larger until I’m naked, too. I stand over her. She’s a nymph sprawled out on the bed, her hair a chestnut halo, her eyes warm and welcoming.
My cock recovers, growing and growing as I appreciate every inch of my girl.
Yeah. She’s gorgeous.
“You are one beautiful woman, Anastasia.”
“You are one beautiful man, Christian, and you taste mighty fine.” Her smile is sexy and coquettish.
I give her a wicked grin.
I am going to take my revenge on Miss Steele.
Grabbing her left ankle, I strap the cuff around it, keeping my eyes on hers the whole time. “We’ll have to see how you taste. If I recall, you’re a rare, exquisite delicacy, Miss Steele.”
I grasp her right ankle and cuff that, too. While holding the bar, I stand back to admire my handiwork, happy that she’s secure and that the straps aren’t too tight. “The good thing about this spreader is it expands,” I inform her. I push down on the clip and tug outward, and the bar extends, forcing her legs farther apart.
Ana gasps.
“Oh, we’re going to have some fun with this, Ana.” Reaching down, I grab the bar and twist it quickly so that Ana flips onto her front. “See what I can do to you?” I twist again and flip her onto her back.
Her breasts rise and fall as she pants.
“These other cuffs are for your wrists. I’ll think about that. Depends if you behave or not.”
“When do I not behave?” Her voice is husky with desire.
“I can think of a few infractions.” I run my fingers up the soles of her feet and she writhes. “Your BlackBerry, for one.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Oh, I never disclose my plans.”
She has no idea how hot she looks right now. Slowly I crawl up the bed until I’m between her legs.
“Hmm. You are so exposed, Miss Steele,” I whisper, our eyes locked together as I run my fingers up her legs, making small circles. “It’s all about anticipation, Ana. What will I do to you?”
She tries to wriggle beneath me, but she’s trapped.
My fingers travel higher, to her inner thighs. “Remember, if you don’t like something, just tell me to stop.” I lean down and kiss her belly, my nose ringing her navel.
“Oh, please, Christian.”
“Oh, Miss Steele. I’ve discovered you can be merciless in your amorous assaults upon me. I think I should return the favor.” I kiss her belly and my lips move south. My fingers north.
Slowly, I ease my fingers inside her. She jerks her pelvis up to embrace them.
I moan. “You never cease to amaze me, Ana. You’re so wet.” Her pubic hair tickles my lips, but I persist and my tongue finds her clitoris pert and eager for attention.
“Ah,” she cries, and braces against her restraints.
Oh, baby, you’re mine.
I swirl my tongue around and around and move my fingers in and out, rotating slowly. She arches off the bed, and from the corner of my eye I see her clutching the sheets.
Absorb the pleasure, Ana.
“Oh, Christian,” she cries out.
“I know, baby.” I gently blow on her.
“Ah! Please!” she pleads.
“Say my name.”
“Christian,” she exclaims.
“Again.”
“Christian, Christian, Christian Grey,” she shouts.
She’s close.
“You are mine,” I whisper, and suck and flick her with my tongue.
She cries out as she comes around my fingers, and while she’s in the throes of her orgasm, I crawl back and flip her over onto her stomach and pull her into my lap.
“We’re going to try this. If you don’t like it, or it’s too uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll stop.”
She’s breathless and dazed.
“Lean down, baby. Head and chest on the bed.”
She complies immediately and I tug her hands backward and cuff each to the bar next to her ankles.
Oh, man. Her ass is in the air; she’s breathing heavily. Waiting. For me.
“Ana, you look so beautiful.”
I grab a condom and quickly rip open the packet and roll it on.
I run my fingers down her spine and pause over her ass. “When you’re ready, I want this, too.” I brush my thumb over her anus, and she tenses and gasps. “Not today, sweet Ana,” I reassure her, “but one day. I want you every way. I want to possess every inch of you. You’re mine.”
Moving on, I ease my finger inside her. She’s still wet, and I kneel up behind her and bury myself in her.
“Aagh! Gently,” she cries.
I still. Shit. I hold her hips. “You okay?”
“Gently,” she says. “Let me get used to this.”
Gently. I can do gently.
I ease back and then slowly forward, filling her. She groans and I ease back and ease forward. Again.
And again.
And again.
Take it slow.
“Yes, good, I’ve got it now,” she murmurs.
I groan and move a little faster. She starts mewling with each thrust. And I go faster still. She scrunches up her eyes and opens her mouth, breathing in a gulp of air with each thrust.
Fuck. This is exquisite.
I close my eyes and tighten my fingers on her hips and lose myself in her.
Over and over.
Until I feel her pulling me inside.
She cries out and comes, taking me with her so I climax inside her, calling out her name. “Ana, baby.”
I collapse beside her feeling utterly, utterly spent, and lie for a moment, relishing my release. I cannot leave Ana trussed up so, sitting up, I unbuckle her from the spreader bar. She curls up beside me while I rub the life back into her ankles and wrists. When she wiggles her fingers and toes, I lie back down, pulling her against me. She mumbles something unintelligible and I realize she’s asleep.
I kiss her forehead, tug the duvet over her, and I sit up and watch her. Taking a strand of her hair, I rub it between my fingers.
So soft.
I curl the tendril around my index finger.
See, I’m tied to you, Ana.
I kiss the end of her hair and sit back and look out at the darkening sky. I know on the ground it will be dark, but up here, the last vestiges of the day are staining the sky pink and orange and opal. We’re still in the light.
That’s what she’s done.
Brought light into my life.
Light and love.
But she still hasn’t given me an answer.
Say yes, Ana.
Be my wife.
Please.
She stirs and opens her eyes. “I could watch you sleep forever, Ana.” I kiss her forehead once more.
She gives me a drowsy smile and closes her eyes.
“I never want to let you go.”
“I never want to go,” she rambles. “Never let me go.”
“I need you,” I whisper, and her lips lift in a tender smile as her breathing evens out.
She’s asleep.