by E. L. James
"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.
"Jose 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 Jose, 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 Jose. 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 drawe
r.
"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.
