[English] FIFTY SHADES DARKER (50 sắc thái 2)

Fifty Shades Darker
Chapter Twenty



"You'll marry me?" he whispers, incredulous.

I nod nervously, flushing and anxious and not quite believing his reaction - this man whom I thought I'd lost. How could he not understand how much I love him?

"Say it," he orders softly, his gaze intense and hot.

"Yes, I'll marry you."

He inhales sharply and moves suddenly, grabbing me and swinging me round in a most un-Fiftylike manner. He's laughing, young and carefree, radiating joyful elation. I grab his arms to hold on, feeling his muscles ripple beneath my fingers, and his infectious laughter sweeps me up - dizzy, addled, a girl totally and utterly smitten with her beautiful man. He puts me down and kisses me. Hard. His hands are on either side of my face, his tongue insistent, persuasive... arousing.

"Oh, Ana," he breathes against my lips, and it's an exultation that leaves me reeling.

He loves me, of that I have no doubt, and I savor the taste of this delicious man, this man I thought I might never see again. His joy is evident - his eyes shining, his youthful smile -

and his relief is almost palpable.

"I thought I'd lost you," I murmur, still dazzled and breathless from his kiss.

"Baby, it will take more than a malfunctioning 135 to keep me away from you."

"135?"

"Charlie Tango. She's a Eurocopter 135, the safest in its class." Some unnamed but dark emotion crosses his face briefly, distracting me. What isn't he saying? Before I can ask him, he stills and looks down at me, frowning, and for a moment I think he's going to tell me. I blink up into his speculative gray eyes.

"Wait a minute. You gave this to me before we saw Flynn," he says, holding up the keychain. He looks almost horrified.

Oh dear, where's he going with this? I nod, keeping a straight face.

His mouth drops open.

I shrug apologetically. "I wanted you to know that whatever Flynn said, it wouldn't make a difference to me."

Christian blinks at me in disbelief. "So all yesterday evening, when I was begging you for an answer, I had it already?" He's dismayed. I nod again, trying desperately to gauge his reaction. He gazes at me in stupefied wonder, but then narrows his eyes and his mouth twists with amused irony.

"All that worry," he whispers ominously. I grin at him and shrug once more. "Oh, don't try and get cute with me, Miss Steele. Right now, I want..." He runs his hand through his hair, then shakes his head and changes tack.

"I can't believe you left me hanging." His whisper is laced with disbelief. His expression alters subtly, his eyes gleaming wickedly, his mouth twitching into a carnal smile.

Holy hell. A thrill runs through me. What's he thinking?

"I believe some retribution is in order, Miss Steele," he says softly.

Retribution? Oh ****! I know he's playing - but I take a cautious step back from him anyway.

He grins. "Is that the game?" he whispers. "Because I will catch you." And his eyes burn with a bright playful intensity. "And you're biting your lip," he says threateningly.

All of my insides tighten at once. Oh my. My future husband wants to play. I take another step back, then turn to run - but in vain. Christian grabs me, and in one easy swoop while I squeal with delight, surprise, and shock. He hoists me over his shoulder and heads down the hall.

"Christian!" I hiss, mindful that Jose is upstairs, though whether he could hear us is doubtful. I steady myself by clasping his lower back, then on a brave impulse, I swat his behind. He swats me right back.

"Ow!" I yelp.

"Shower time," he declares triumphantly.

"Put me down!" I try and fail to sound disapproving. My struggle is futile - his arm is firmly clamped over my thighs - and for some reason I cannot stop giggling.

"Fond of these shoes?" he asks amused as he opens the door to his bathroom.

"I prefer them to be touching the floor." I attempt to snarl at him, but it's not very effective as I can't keep the laughter out of my voice.

"Your wish is my command, Miss Steele." Without putting me down, he slips off both of my shoes and lets them clatter to the tile floor. Pausing by the vanity, he empties his pockets - dead Blackberry, keys, wallet, the keychain. I can only imagine what I look like in the mirror from this angle. When he's finished, he marches directly into his overlarge shower.

"Christian!" I scold loudly - his intent is now clear.

He switches the water on at max. Jeez! Arctic water spurts over my backside, and I squeal - then stop, mindful once more that Jose is above us. It's cold and I'm fully clothed.

The chilling water soaks into my dress, my panties, and my bra. I'm drenched and I cannot stop giggling.

"No!" I squeal. "Put me down!" I swat him again, harder this time, and Christian releases me, letting me slide down his now soaked body. His white shirt is stuck to his chest and his suit pants are sodden. I am soaked, too, flushed, giddy and breathless, and he's grinning down at me, looking so... so unbelievably hot.

He sobers, his eyes shining, and cups my face again, drawing my lips to his. His kiss is gentle, cherishing, and totally distracting. I no longer care that I am fully clothed and soaking wet in Christian's shower. It's just the two of us beneath the cascading water. He's back, he's safe, he's mine.

My hands move involuntarily to his shirt as it clings to every line and sinew of his chest, revealing the hair scrunched beneath the white wetness. I yank the shirt hem out of his pants, and he groans against my mouth, but his lips do not leave mine. As I unbutton his shirt, he reaches for my zipper, slowly sliding the clasp down my dress. His lips become more insistent, more provocative, his tongue invading my mouth - and my body explodes with desire. I tug his shirt hard, ripping it open. The buttons fly everywhere, ricocheting off the tiles and disappearing onto the shower floor. As I strip the wet material off his shoulders and down his arms, I press him into the wall, hampering his attempts to undress me. "Cufflinks," he murmurs, holding up his wrists where his shirt hangs sodden and limp.

With scrambling fingers, I release first one and then the other cuff, letting his gold cufflinks fall carelessly to the tiled floor and his shirt follows. His eyes search mine through the cascading water, his gaze burning, carnal, heated like the water. I reach for the waistband of his pants, but he shakes his head and grabs my shoulders, spinning me round so I am facing away from him. He finishes the long journey south with my zipper, smoothes my wet hair away from my neck, and runs his tongue up my neck to my hairline and back again, kissing and sucking as he goes.

I moan and slowly he peels my dress off my shoulders and down past my breasts, kissing my neck beneath my ear. He unclasps my bra and pushes it off my shoulders, freeing my breasts. His hands reach around and cup each one as he murmurs his appreciation in my ear.

"So beautiful," he whispers.

My arms are trapped by my bra and dress, which hang unfastened below my breasts, my arms still in the sleeves but my hands are free. I roll my head, giving Christian better access to my neck and push my breasts into his magical hands. I reach round behind me and welcome his sharp intake of breath as my inquisitive fingers make contact with his erection. He pushes his groin into my welcoming hands. Dammit, why didn't he let me take his pants off?

He tugs on my nipples, and as they harden and stretch under his expert touch, all thoughts of his pants disappear and pleasure spikes sharp and libidinous in my belly. I lean my head back against him and groan.

"Yes," he breathes and turns me once more, capturing my mouth with his. He peels my bra, dress and panties down so they join his shirt in a soggy heap on the shower floor.

I grab the body wash beside us. Christian stills as he realizes what I am about to do.

Staring him straight in the eye, I squirt some of the sweet-smelling gel into my palm and hold my hand up in front of his chest, waiting for an answer to my unspoken question. His eyes widen, then he gives me an almost imperceptible nod.

Gently I place my hand on his sternum and start to rub the soap into his skin. His chest rises as he inhales sharply, but he stands stock-still. After a beat, his hands clasp my hips, but he doesn't push me away. He watches me warily, his look intense more than scared, but his lips are parted as his breathing increases.

"Is this okay?" I whisper.

"Yes." His short, breathy reply is almost a gasp. I am reminded of the many showers we've had together, but the one at the Olympic is a bittersweet memory. Well, now I can touch him. I wash him using gentle circles, cleaning my man, moving to his underarms, over his ribs, down his flat firm belly, toward his happy trail, and the waistband of his pants.

"My turn," he whispers and reaches for the shampoo, shifting us out of range of the stream of water and squirting some on to the top of my head.

I think this is my cue to stop washing him, so I hook my fingers into his waistband. He works the shampoo into my hair, his firm, long fingers massaging my scalp. Groaning in appreciation, I close my eyes and give myself over to the heavenly sensation. After all the stress of the evening, this is just what I...

Fifty Shades Darker
Chapter Twenty-One



Christian pauses outside the playroom.

"You're sure about this?" he asks, his gaze heated yet anxious.

"Yes," I murmur, smiling shyly at him.

His eyes soften. "Anything you don't want to do?"

I'm derailed by his unexpected question, and my mind goes into overdrive. One thought occurs. "I don't want you to take photos of me."

He stills, and his expression hardens as he ****s his head to one side and eyes me speculatively.

Oh ****. I think he's going to ask me why, but fortunately he doesn't.

"Okay," he murmurs. His brow furrows as he unlocks the door, then stands aside to usher me into the room. I feel his eyes on me as he follows me inside and closes the door.

Placing the gift box on the chest of drawers, he takes out the iPod, switches it on, then waves at the music center on the wall so that the smoked glass doors glide silently open.

He presses some buttons, and after a moment, the sound of a subway train echoes round the room. He turns it down so that the slow, hypnotic electronic beat that follows becomes ambient. A woman starts to sing, I don't know who she is but her voice is soft yet rasping and the beat is measured, deliberate... erotic. Oh my. It's music to make love to.

Christian turns to face me as I stand in the middle of the room, my heart pounding, my blood singing in my veins, pulsing - or so it feels - in time to the music's seductive beat.

He saunters casually over to me and tugs on my chin so I'm no longer biting my lip.

"What do you want to do, Anastasia?" he murmurs, planting a soft chaste kiss at the corner of my mouth, his fingers still grasping my chin.

"It's your birthday. Whatever you want," I whisper. He traces his thumb along my lower lip, his brow creased once more.

"Are we in here because you think I want to be in here?" His words are softly spoken, but he regards me intently.

"No," I whisper. "I want to be in here, too."

His gaze darkens, growing bolder as he assesses my response. After what seems an eternity, he speaks.

"Oh, there are so many possibilities, Miss Steele." His voice is low, excited. "But let's start with getting you naked." He pulls the sash of my robe so that it falls open, revealing my silk nightdress, then steps back and sits nonchalantly down on the arm of the chesterfield couch.

"Take your clothes off. Slowly." He gives me a sensual, challenging look.

I swallow compulsively, pressing my thighs together. I'm already damp between my legs. My inner goddess is stripped naked and standing in line, ready and waiting and begging me to play catch-up. I pull the robe away from my shoulders, my eyes never leaving his, and shrug, letting it fall billowing to the floor. His mesmerizing gray eyes heat, and he runs his index finger over his lips as he gazes at me.

Slipping the spaghetti straps of my gown off my shoulders, I gaze at him for a beat, then release them. My nightdress skims and ripples softly down my body, pooling at my feet. I am naked and practically panting and oh-so-ready.

Christian pauses for a moment, and I marvel at the frankly carnal appreciation in his expression. Standing up, he makes his way over to the chest and picks up his silver-gray tie - my favorite tie. He pulls it through his fingers as he turns and strolls casually toward me, a smile playing on his lips. When he stands in front of me, I expect him to ask for my hands, but he doesn't.

"I think you're underdressed, Miss Steele," he murmurs. He places the tie around my neck, and slowly but dexterously ties it in what I assume is a fine Windsor knot. As he tightens the knot, his fingers brush the base of my throat and electricity shoots through me, making me gasp. He leaves the wide end of the tie long, long enough so the tip skims my pubic hair.

"You look mighty fine now, Miss Steele," he says and bends to kiss me gently on my lips. It's a swift kiss, and I want more, desire spiraling wantonly through my body.

"What shall we do with you now?" he says, and then picking up the tie, he yanks sharply so that I'm forced forward into his arms. His hands dive into my hair and pull my head back, and he really kisses me, hard, his tongue unforgiving and merciless. One of his hands roams freely down my back to cup my behind. When he pulls away, he's panting too and gazing down at me, his eyes molten gray; and I'm left wanting, gasping for breath, my wits thoroughly scattered. I'm sure my lips will be swollen after his sensual assault.

"Turn around," he orders gently and I obey. Pulling my hair free of the tie, he quickly braids and secures it. He tugs the braid so my head tilts up.

"You have beautiful hair, Anastasia," he murmurs and kisses my throat, sending shivers running up and down my spine. "You just have to say stop. You know that, don't you?"

he whispers against my throat.

I nod, my eyes closed, and relish his lips on me. He turns me round once more and picks up the end of the tie.

"Come," he says, tugging gently, leading me over to the chest where the rest of the box's contents are on display.

"Anastasia, these objects." He holds up the butt plug. "This is a size too big. As an anal virgin, you don't want to start with this. We want to start with this." He holds up his pinky finger, and I gasp, shocked. Fingers... there? He smirks at me, and the unpleasant thought of the anal fisting mentioned in the contract comes to mind.

"Just finger - singular," he says softly with that uncanny ability he has to read my mind. My eyes dart to his. How does he do that?

"These clamps are vicious." He prods the nipple clamps. "We'll use these." He places a different pair of clamps on the chest. They look like giant black hairpins, but with little jet jewels hanging down. "They're adjustable," Christian murmurs, his voice laced with gentle concern.

I blink up at him, wide-eyed. Christian, my ***ual mentor. He knows so much more about all this than I do. I'll never catch up. I frown. He knows more than me about most things... except cooking.

"Clear?" he asks.

"Yes," I whisper, my mouth dry. "Are you going to tell me what you intend to do?"

"No. I'm making this up as I go along. This isn't a scene, Ana."

"How should I behave?"

His brow creases. "However you want to."

Oh!

"Were you expecting my alter ego, Anastasia?" he asks, his tone vaguely mocking and bemused at once. I blink at him.

"Well, yes. I like him," I murmur. He smiles his private smile and reaches up to run his thumb down my cheek.

"Do you now," he breathes and runs his thumb across my lower lip. "I'm your lover, Anastasia, not your Dom. I love to hear your laugh and your girlish giggle. I like you relaxed and happy, like you are in Jose's photos. That's the girl that fell into my office. That's the girl I fell in love with."

Holy cow. My mouth drops open, and a welcome warmth blooms in my heart. It's joy - pure joy.

"But having said all that, I also like to do rude things to you, Miss Steele; and my alter ego knows a trick or two. So, do as you're told and turn around." His eyes glint wickedly, and the joy moves sharply south, seizing me tightly and gripping every sinew below my waist. I do as I'm told. Behind me, he opens one of the drawers and a moment later he's in front of me again.

"Come," he orders and tugs on the tie, leading me to the table. As we walk past the couch, I notice for the first time that all the canes have vanished. It distracts me. Were they there yesterday when I came in? I don't remember. Did Christian move them? Mrs. Jones?

Christian interrupts my train of thought.

"I want you to kneel up on this," he says when we're at the table.

Oh, okay. What does he have in mind? My inner goddess can't wait to find out - she's already scissor-kicked onto the table and is watching him with adoration.

He gently lifts me onto the table, and I fold my legs beneath me and kneel in front of him, surprised by my own grace. Now we are eye to eye. He runs his hands down my thighs, grasps my knees, and pulls my legs apart and stands directly in front of me. He looks very serious, his eyes darker, hooded... lustful.

"Arms behind your back. I'm going to cuff you."

He produces some leather cuffs from his back pocket and reaches around me. This is it. Where's he going to take me this time?

His proximity is intoxicating. This man is going to be my husband. Can one lust after one's husband like this? I don't remember reading about that anywhere. I can't resist him, and I run my parted lips along his jaw, feeling the stubble, a heady combination of prickly and soft, under my tongue. He stills and closes his eyes. His breathing falters and he pulls back."Stop. Or this will be over far quicker than either of us wants," he warns. For a moment, I think he might be angry but then he smiles, and his heated eyes are alight with amusement.

"You're irresistible," I pout.

"Am I now?" he says dryly.

I nod.

"Well - don't distract me, or I'll gag you."

"I like distracting you," I whisper, looking mulishly at him, and he ****s his eyebrow at me.

"Or...

Fifty Shades Darker
Chapter Twenty-Two



All the color drains from my face as my blood turns to ice and fear lances through my body.

Instinctively I step between her and Christian.

"What is it?" Christian murmurs, his tone wary.

I ignore him. I cannot believe Kate is doing this.

"Kate! This is nothing to do with you." I glare venomously at her, anger replacing my fear. How dare she do this? Not now, not today. Not on Christian's birthday. Surprised by my response, she blinks at me, green eyes wide.

"Ana, what is it?" Christian says again, his tone more menacing.

"Christian, would you just go, please?" I ask him.

"No. Show me." He holds out his hand, and I know he's not to be argued with - his voice is cold and hard. Reluctantly I give him the e-mail.

"What's he done to you?" Kate asks, ignoring Christian. She looks so apprehensive. I flush as a myriad of erotic images flit quickly across my mind.

"That's none of your business, Kate." I can't keep the exasperation out of my voice.

"Where did you get this?" Christian asks, his head ****ed to one side, his face expressionless, but his voice... so menacingly soft. Kate flushes.

"That's irrelevant." At his stony glare, she hastily continues. "It was in the pocket of a jacket - which I assume is yours - that I found on the back of Ana's bedroom door." Faced with Christian's burning gray gaze, Kate's steeliness slips a little, but she seems to recover and scowls at him.

She's a beacon of hostility in a slinky, bright red dress. She looks magnificent. But what the hell is she going through my clothes for? It's usually the other way round.

"Have you told anyone?" Christian's voice is like a silk glove.

"No! Of course not," Kate snaps, affronted. Christian nods and appears to relax. He turns and heads toward the fireplace. Wordlessly Kate and I watch as he picks up a lighter from the mantelpiece, sets fire to the e-mail, and releases it, letting it float afire slowly into the grate until it is no more. The silence in the room is oppressive.

"Not even Elliot?" I ask, turning my attention back to Kate.

"No one," Kate says emphatically, and for the first time she looks puzzled and hurt. "I just want to know you're okay, Ana," she whispers.

"I'm fine, Kate. More than fine. Please, Christian and I are good, really good - this is old news. Please ignore it."

"Ignore it?" she says. "How can I ignore that? What's he done to you?" And her green eyes are so full of heartfelt concern.

"He hasn't done anything to me, Kate. Honestly - I'm good."

She blinks at me.

"Really?" she asks.

Christian wraps an arm around me and draws me close, not taking his eyes off Kate.

"Ana has consented to be my wife, Katherine," he says quietly.

"Wife!" Kate squeaks, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"We're getting married. We're going to announce our engagement this evening," he says."Oh!" Kate gapes at me. She's stunned. "I leave you alone for sixteen days, and this happens? It's very sudden. So yesterday, when I said - " She gazes at me, lost. "Where does that e-mail fit into all this?"

"It doesn't, Kate. Forget it - please. I love him and he loves me. Don't do this. Don't ruin his party and our night," I whisper. She blinks and unexpectedly her eyes are shining with tears.

"No. Of course I won't. You're okay?" She wants reassurance.

"I've never been happier," I whisper. She reaches forward and grabs my hand regardless of Christian's arm wrapped around me.

"You really are okay?" she asks hopefully.

"Yes." I grin at her, my joy returning. She's back onside. She smiles at me, my happi-ness reflecting back on her. I step out of Christian's hold, and she hugs me suddenly.

"Oh, Ana - I was so worried when I read this. I didn't know what to think. Will you explain it to me?" she whispers.

"One day, not now."

"Good. I won't tell anyone. I love you so much, Ana, like my own sister. I just thought... I didn't know what to think. I'm sorry. If you're happy, then I'm happy." She looks directly at Christian and repeats her apology. He nods at her, his eyes glacial, and his expression does not change. Oh ****, he's still mad.

"I really am sorry. You're right, it's none of my business," she whispers to me.

There's a knock on the door that startles Kate and I apart. Grace pokes her head around.

"Everything okay, darling?" she asks Christian.

"Everything's fine, Mrs. Grey," Kate says immediately.

"Fine, Mom," Christian says.

"Good." Grace enters. "Then you won't mind if I give my son a birthday hug." She beams at both of us. He hugs her tightly and thaws immediately.

"Happy birthday, darling," she says softly, closing her eyes in his embrace. "I'm so glad you're still with us."

"Mom, I'm fine." Christian smiles down at her. She pulls back, looks at him closely, and grins.

"I'm so happy for you," she says and caresses his face.

He grins at her - his thousand megawatt smile.

She knows! When did he tell her?

"Well, kids, if you've all finished your tete-a-tete, there's a throng of people here to check that you really are in one piece, Christian, and to wish you a happy birthday."

"I'll be right there."

Grace glances anxiously at Kate and me and seems reassured by our smiles. She winks at me as she holds the door open for us. Christian holds out his hand to me and I take it.

"Christian, I really do apologize," Kate says humbly. Humble Kate is something to behold. Christian nods at her, and we follow her out.

In the hallway, I gaze anxiously up at Christian. "Does your mother know about us?"

"Yes."

"Oh." And to think our evening could have been derailed by the tenacious Miss Kavanagh. I shudder at the thought - the ramifications of Christian's lifestyle revealed to all.

Holy cow.

"Well, that was an interesting start to the evening." I smile sweetly at him. He glances down at me - and it's back, his amused look. Thank heavens.

"As ever, Miss Steele, you have a gift for understatement." He raises my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles as we walk into the living room to a sudden, spontaneous, and deafening round of applause.

Crap. How many people are here?

I scan the room quickly: all the Greys, Ethan with Mia, Dr. Flynn and his wife, I assume. There's Mac from the boat, a tall, handsome African American - I remember seeing him in Christian's office the first time I met Christian - Mia's bitchy friend Lily, two women I don't recognize at all, and... Oh no. My heart sinks. That woman... Mrs. Robinson.

Gretchen materializes with a tray of champagne. She's in a low-cut black dress, no pigtails but an updo, flushing and fluttering her eyelashes at Christian. The applause dies down, and Christian squeezes my hand as all eyes turn to him expectantly.

"Thank you, everyone. Looks like I'll need one of these." He grabs two drinks off Gretchen's tray and gives her a brief smile. I think Gretchen's going to expire or swoon.

He hands a glass to me.

Christian raises his glass to the rest of the room, and immediately everyone surges forward. Leading the charge is the evil woman in black. Does she ever wear any other color?

"Christian, I was so worried." Elena gives him a brief hug and kisses both his cheeks.

He doesn't let me go despite the fact I try to free my hand.

"I'm good, Elena," Christian mutters coolly.

"Why didn't you call me?" Her plea is desperate, her eyes searching his.

"I've been busy."

"Didn't you get my messages?"

Christian shifts uncomfortably and pulls me closer, putting his arm around me. His face remains impassive as he regards Elena. She can no longer ignore me, so she nods politely in my direction.

"Ana," she purrs. "You look lovely, dear."

"Elena," I purr back. "Thank you."

I catch Grace's eye. She frowns, watching the three of us.

"Elena, I need to make an announcement," Christian says, eyeing her dispassionately.

Her clear blue eyes cloud. "Of course." She fakes a smile and steps back.

"Everyone," Christian calls. He waits for a moment until the buzz in the room dies down and all eyes are once more on him.

"Thank you for coming today. I have to say I was expecting a quiet family dinner, so this is a pleasant surprise." He stares pointedly at Mia, who grins and gives him a little wave. Christian shakes his head in exasperation and continues.

"Ros and I" - he acknowledges the red-haired woman standing nearby with a small bubbly blonde - "we had a close call yesterday."

Oh, that's the Ros that works with him. She grins and raises her glass to him. He nods back at her.

"So I'm especially glad to be here today to share with all of you my very good news.

This beautiful woman" - he...