[English] FIFTY SHADES OF GREY (50 sắc thái 1)

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Eleven



There are several papers inside the envelope. I fish them out, my heart still pounding, and I sit back on my bed and begin to read.

CONTRACT

Made this day_________ of 2011 ("The Commencement Date") BETWEEN

MR. CHRISTIAN GREY of 301 Escala, Seattle, WA 98889

("The Dominant")

MISS ANASTASIA STEELE of 1114 SW Green Street, Apartment 7, Haven Heights, Vancouver, WA 98888

("The Submissive")

THE PARTIES AGREE AS FOLLOWS

1 The following are the terms of a binding contract between the Dominant and the Submissive.

FUNDAMENTAL TERMS

2 The fundamental purpose of this contract is to allow the Submissive to explore her sensuality and her limits safely, with due respect and regard for her needs, her limits and her wellbeing.

3 The Dominant and the Submissive agree and acknowledge that all that occurs under the terms of this contract will be consensual, confidential, and subject to the agreed limits and safety procedures set out in this contract. Ad***ional limits and safety procedures may be agreed in writing.

4 The Dominant and the Submissive each warrant that they suffer from no ***ual, serious, infectious or life-threatening illnesses including but not limited to HIV, Her-pes and Hepatitis. If during the Term (as defined below) or any extended term of this contract either party should be diagnosed with or become aware of any such illness he or she undertakes to inform the other immediately and in any event prior to any form of physical contact between the parties.

5 Adherence to the above warranties, agreements and undertakings (and any ad***ional limits and safety procedures agreed under clause 3 above) are fundamental to this contract. Any breach shall render it void with immediate effect and each party agrees to be fully responsible to the other for the consequence of any breach.

6 Everything in this contract must be read and interpreted in the light of the fundamental purpose and the fundamental terms set out in clauses 2-5 above.

ROLES

7 The Dominant shall take responsibility for the wellbeing and the proper training, guidance, and discipline of the Submissive. He shall decide the nature of such training, guidance, and discipline and the time and place of its administration, subject to the agreed terms, limitations and safety procedures set out in this contract or agreed ad***ionally under clause 3 above.

8 If at any time the Dominant should fail to keep to the agreed terms, limitations and safety procedures set out in this contract or agreed ad***ionally under clause 3 above the Submissive is entitled to terminate this contract forthwith and to leave the service of the Dominant without notice.

9 Subject to that proviso and to clauses 2-5 above the Submissive is to serve and obey the Dominant in all things. Subject to the agreed terms, limitations and safety procedures set out in this contract or agreed ad***ionally under clause 3 above she shall without query or hesitation offer the Dominant such pleasure as he may require and she shall accept without query or hesitation his training, guidance and discipline in whatever form it may take.

COMMENCEMENT AND TERM

10 The Dominant and Submissive enter into this contract on The Commencement Date fully aware of its nature and undertake to abide by its con***ions without exception.

11 This contract shall be effective for a period of three Calendar Months from The Commencement Date ("The Term"). On the expiry of The Term the parties shall discuss whether this contract and the arrangements they have made under this contract are satisfactory and whether the needs of each party have been met. Either party may propose the extension of this contract subject to adjustments to its terms, or to the arrangements they have made under it. In the absence of agreement *****ch extension this contract shall terminate and both parties shall be free to resume their lives separately.

AVAILABILITY

12 The Submissive will make herself available to the Dominant from Friday evenings through *****nday afternoons each week during the Term at times to be specified by the Dominant ("the Allotted Times"). Further allocated time can be mutually agreed on an ad hoc basis.

13 The Dominant reserves the right to dismiss the Submissive from his service at any time and for any reason. The Submissive may request her release at any time, such request to be granted at the discretion of the Dominant subject only to the Submissive's rights under clauses 2-5 and 8 above.

LOCATION

14 The Submissive will make herself available during the Allotted Times and agreed ad***ional times at locations to be determined by the Dominant. The Dominant will ensure that all travel costs incurred by the Submissive for that purpose are met by the Dominant.

SERVICE PROVISIONS

15 The following service provisions have been discussed and agreed and will be ad-hered to by both parties during the Term. Both parties accept that certain matters may arise which are not covered by the terms of this contract or the service provisions, or that certain matters may be renegotiated. In such circumstance further clauses may be proposed by way of amendment. Any further clauses or amendments must be agreed, documented and signed by both parties and shall be subject to the fundamental terms set out at clauses 2-5 above.

DOMINANT

15.1 The Dominant shall make the Submissive's health and safety a priority at all times. The Dominant shall not at any time require, request, allow or demand the Submissive to participate at the hands of the Dominant in the activities detailed in Appendix 2 or in any act that either party deems to be unsafe. The Dominant will not undertake or permit to be undertaken any action which could cause serious injury or any risk to the Submissive's life. The remaining sub-clauses of this clause 15 are to be read subject to this proviso and to the fundamental matters agreed in clauses 2-5 above.

15.2 The Dominant accepts the Submissive as his, to own, control, dominate and discipline during the Term. The Dominant may use the Submissive's body at any time during the Allotted Times or any agreed ad***ional times in any manner he deems fit, ***ually or otherwise.

15.3 The Dominant shall provide the Submissive with all necessary training and guidance in how to properly serve the Dominant.

15.4 The Dominant shall maintain a stable and safe environment in which the Submissive may perform her duties in service of the Dominant.

15.5 The Dominant may discipline the Submissive as necessary to ensure the Submissive fully appreciates her role of subservience to the Dominant and to discourage unacceptable conduct. The Dominant may flog, spank, whip or corporally punish the Submissive as he sees fit, for purposes of discipline, for his own personal enjoyment, or for any other reason, which he is not obliged to provide.

15.6 In training and in the administration of discipline the Dominant shall ensure that no permanent marks are made upon the Submissive's body nor any injuries incurred that may require medical attention.

15.7 In training and in the administration of discipline the Dominant shall ensure that the discipline and the instruments used for the purposes of discipline are safe, shall not be used in such a way as to cause serious harm and shall not in any way exceed the limits defined and detailed in this contract.

15.8 In case of illness or injury the Dominant shall care for the Submissive, seeing to her health and safety, encouraging and when necessary ordering medical attention when it is judged necessary by the Dominant.

15.9 The Dominant shall maintain his own good health and seek medical attention when necessary in order to maintain a risk-free environment 15.10 The Dominant shall not loan his Submissive to another Dominant.

15.11 The Dominant may restrain, handcuff, or bind the Submissive at any time during the Allotted Times or any agreed ad***ional times for any reason and for extended periods of time, giving due regard to the health and safety of the Submissive.

15.12 The Dominant will ensure that all equipment used for the purposes of training and discipline shall be maintained in a clean, hygienic and safe state at all times.

SUBMISSIVE

15.13 The Submissive accepts the Dominant as her master, with the understanding that she is now the property of the Dominant, to be dealt with as the Dominant pleases during the Term generally but specifically during the Allotted Times and any ad***ional agreed allotted times.

15.14 The Submissive shall obey the rules ("the Rules") set out in Appendix 1 to this agreement.

15.15 The Submissive shall serve the Dominant in any way the Dominant sees fit and shall endeavor to please the Dominant at all times to the best of her ability.

15.16 The Submissive shall take all measures necessary to maintain her good health and shall request or seek medical attention whenever it is needed, keeping the Dominant informed at all times of any health issues that may arise.

15.17 The Submissive will ensure that she procures oral contraception and ensure that she takes it as and when prescribed to prevent any pregnancy.

15.18 The Submissive shall accept without question any and all disciplinary actions deemed necessary by the Dominant and remember her status and role in regard to the Dominant at all times.

15.19 The Submissive shall not touch or pleasure herself ***ually without permission from the Dominant.

15.20 The Submissive shall submit to any ***ual activity demanded by the Dominant and shall do without hesitation or argument.

15.21 The Submissive shall accept whippings, floggings, spankings, caning, paddling or any other discipline...

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Twelve



For the first time in my life, I voluntarily go for a run. I find my nasty, never-used sneakers, some sweat pants, and a t-shirt. I put my hair in pigtails, blushing at the memories they bring back, and I plug in my iPod. I can't sit in front of that marvel of technology and look at or read any more disturbing material. I need to expend some of this excess, enervating, energy. Quite frankly, I have a mind to run to the Heathman hotel and just demand *** from the control freak. But that's five miles, and I don't think I'll be able to run one mile, let alone five, and of course, he might turn me down which would be beyond humiliating.

Kate is walking from her car as I head out of the door. She nearly drops her shopping when she sees me. Ana Steele in sneakers. I wave and don't stop for the inquisition. I need some serious alone time. Snow Patrol blaring in my ears, I set off into the opal and aquamarine dusk.

I pace through the park. What am I going to do I want him, but on his termsI just don't know. Perhaps I should negotiate what I want. Go through that ridiculous contract line by line and say what is acceptable and what isn't. My research has told me that legally it's unenforceable. He must know that. I figure that it just sets up the parameters of the relationship. It illustrates what I can expect from him and what he expects from me - my total submission. Am I prepared to give him thatAm I even capable?

I am plagued by one question - why is he like thisIs it because he was seduced at such a young ageI just don't know. He's still such a mystery.

I stop beside a large spruce and put my hands on my knees, breathing hard, dragging precious air into my lungs. Oh, this feels good, cathartic. I can feel my resolve hardening.

Yes. I need to tell him what's okay and what isn't. I need to email him my thoughts, and then we can discuss these on Wednesday. I take a deep cleansing breath, then jog back to the apartment.

Kate has been shopping, as only she can, for clothes for her holiday to Barbados.

Mainly bikinis and matching sarongs. She will look fabulous in all of them, yet she still makes me sit and comment while she tries on each and every one. There are only so many ways one can say - you look fabulous Kate. She has a curvy, slim figure to die for. She doesn't do it on purpose, I know, but I haul my sorry, perspiration clad, old t-shirt, sweat pants, and sneakers ass into my room on the pretext of packing more boxes. Could I feel any more inadequateTaking the awesome free technology with me, I set the laptop up on my desk. I email Christian.

__________________________________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Shocked of WSUV

Date: May 23 2011 20:33

To: Christian Grey

Okay, I've seen enough.

It was nice knowing you.

Ana

I press send, hugging myself, laughing at my little joke. Will he find it as funnyOh ****

- probably not. Christian Grey is not famed for his sense of humor. But I know it exists, I've experienced it. Perhaps I've gone too far. I wait for his answer.

I wait... and wait. I glance at my alarm clock. Ten minutes have passed.

To distract myself from the anxiety that blooms in my belly, I start doing what I told Kate I would be doing - packing up my room. I begin by cramming my books into a crate.

By nine, I've heard nothing. Perhaps he's out. I pout petulantly as I plug my iPod ear buds in, listen to Snow Patrol, and sit down at my small desk to re-read the contract and make my comments.

I don't know why I glance up, maybe I catch a slight movement from the corner of my eye, I don't know, but when I do, he's standing in the doorway of my bedroom watching me intently. He's wearing his grey flannel pants and a white linen shirt, gently twirling his car keys. I pull my ear buds out and freeze . ****!

"Good evening, Anastasia." His voice is cool, his expression completely guarded and unreadable. The capacity to speak deserts me. Damn Kate for letting him in here with no warning. Vaguely, I'm aware that I'm still in my sweats, un-showered, yucky, and he's just gloriously yummy, his pants doing that hanging from the hips thing, and what's more, he's here in my bedroom.

"I felt that your email warranted a reply in person," he explains dryly.

I open my mouth and then close it again, twice. The joke is on me. Never in this or any alternative universe did I expect him to drop everything and turn up here.

"May I sit?" he asks, his eyes now dancing with humor - thank heavens - maybe he'll see the funny side?

I nod. The power of speech remains elusive. Christian Grey is sitting on my bed.

"I wondered what your bedroom would look like," he says.

I glance around it, plotting an escape route, no - there's still only the door or window.

My room is functional but cozy - sparse white wicker furniture and a white iron double bed with a patchwork quilt, made by my mother when she was in her folksy American quilting phase. It's all pale blue and cream.

"It's very serene and peaceful in here," he murmurs. Not at the moment... not with you here. Finally, my medulla oblongata recalls its purpose, I breathe.

"How... ?"

He smiles at me.

"I'm still at the Heathman."

I know that.

"Would you like a drink?" Politeness wins out over everything else I'd like to say.

"No, thank you, Anastasia." He smiles a dazzling, crooked smile, his head ****ed slightly to one side.

Well, I might need one.

"So, it was nice knowing me?"

Holy cow, is he offended I stare down at my fingers. How am I going to dig myself out of thisIf I tell him it was a joke, I don't think he'll be impressed.

"I thought you'd reply by email." My voice is small, pathetic.

"Are you biting your lower lip deliberately?" he asks darkly.

I blink up at him, gasping, freeing my lip.

"I wasn't aware I was biting my lip," I murmur softly.

My heart is pounding. I can feel that pull, that delicious electricity between us charging, filling the space between us with static. He's sitting so close to me, his eyes dark smoky gray, his elbows resting on his knees, his legs apart. Leaning forward, he slowly undoes one of my pigtails, his fingers freeing my hair. My breathing is shallow, and I cannot move. I watch hypnotized as his hand moves to my second pigtail, and pulling the hair tie, he loosens the braid with his long, skilled fingers.

"So you decided on some exercise," he breathes, his voice soft and melodious. His fingers gently tuck my hair behind my ear. "Why, Anastasia?" His fingers circle my ear, and very softly, he tugs my earlobe, rhythmically. It's so ***ual.

"I needed time to think," I whisper. I'm all rabbit/headlights, moth/flame, bird/snake...

and he knows exactly what he's doing to me.

"Think about what, Anastasia?"

"You."

"And you decided that it was nice knowing meDo you mean knowing me in the biblical sense?"

Oh ****. I flush.

"I didn't think you were familiar with the Bible."

"I went *****nday School, Anastasia. It taught me a great deal."

"I don't remember reading about nipple clamps in the Bible. Perhaps you were taught from a modern translation."

His lips arch with a trace of a smile, and my eyes are drawn to his beautiful sculptured mouth.

"Well, I thought I should come and remind you how nice it was knowing me."

Holy crap. I stare at him open mouthed, and his fingers move from my ear to my chin.

"What do you say to that, Miss Steele?"

His gray eyes blaze at me, his challenge intrinsic in his stare. His lips are parted - he's waiting, coiled to strike. Desire - acute, liquid and smoldering, combusts deep in my belly.

I take pre-emptive action and launch myself at him. Somehow he moves, I have no idea how, and in the blink of an eye I'm on the bed pinned beneath him, my arms stretched out and held above my head, his free hand clutching my face, and his mouth finds mine.

His tongue is in my mouth, claiming and possessing me, and I revel in the force he uses. I feel him against the length of my body. He wants me, and this does strange, delicious things to my insides. Not Kate in her little bikinis, not one of the fifteen, not evil Mrs. Robinson. Me. This beautiful man wants me. My inner goddess glows so bright she could light up Portland. He stops kissing me, and opening my eyes, I find him gazing down at me.

"Trust me?" he breathes.

I nod, wide-eyed, my heart bouncing off my ribs, my blood thundering around my body.He reaches down, and from his pants pocket, he takes out his silver grey silk tie... that silver grey woven tie that leaves small impressions of its weave on my skin. He moves so quickly, sitting astride me as he fastens my wrists together, but this time, he ties the other end of the tie to one of the spokes of my white iron headboard. He pulls at my binding checking it's secure. I'm not going anywhere. I'm tied, literally, to my bed, and I'm so aroused.

He slides off me and stands beside the bed, staring down at me, his eyes dark with want. His look is triumphant, mixed with relief.

"That's better," he murmurs and smiles a wicked, knowing smile. He bends and starts undoing one of my sneakers. Oh no... no... my feet. No. I've...

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Thirteen



The following day, I call my mom when I'm home from work. It's been a relatively peaceful day at the Clayton's, allowing me far too much time to think. I'm restless, nervous about my showdown with Mr. Control Freak tomorrow, and at the back of my mind, I'm worried that perhaps I've been too negative in my response to the contract. Perhaps he'll call the whole thing off.

My mom is oozing contrition, desperately sorry not to make my graduation. Bob has twisted some ligament which means he's hobbling all over the place. Honestly, he's as accident-prone as I am. He's expected to make a full recovery, but it means he's resting up, and my mother has to wait on him hand and sore foot.

"Ana honey, I'm so sorry," my mom whines down the phone.

"Mom, it's fine. Ray will be there."

"Ana, you sound distracted - are you okay, baby?"

"Yes, Mom," Oh if only you knew. There's an obscenely rich guy I've met and he wants some kind of strange kinky ***ual relationship, in which I don't get a say in things.

"Have you met someone?"

"No, Mom." I am so not going there right now.

"Well, darling, I'll be thinking of you on Thursday. I love you... you know that honey?"I close my eyes, her precious words give me a warm glow inside.

"Love you too, Mom. Say hi to Bob, and I hope he gets better fast."

"Will do, honey. Bye."

"Bye."

I have strayed into my bedroom with the phone. Idly, I switch the mean machine on and fire up the email program. There's an email from Christian from late last night or very early this morning, depending on your point of view. My heart rate spikes instantly, and I hear the blood pumping in my ears. Holy crap... perhaps he's said no - that's it - maybe he's canceling dinner. The thought is so painful. I dismiss it quickly and open the email.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Your Issues

Date: May 24 2011 01:27

To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

Following my more thorough examination of your issues, may I bring to your attention the definition of submissive.

submissive [s uhb-mis-iv] - adjective 1. inclined or ready *****bmit; unresistingly or humbly obedient: submissive servants.

2. marked by or indicating submission: a submissive reply.

Origin: 1580 - 90; submiss + -ive

Synonyms: 1. tractable, compliant, pliant, amenable. 2. passive, resigned, patient, docile, tame, subdued. Antonyms: 1. rebellious, disobedient.

Please bear this in mind for our meeting on Wednesday.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

My initial feeling is one of relief. He's willing to discuss my issues at least, and he still wants to meet tomorrow. After some thought, I reply.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: My Issues... What about Your Issues?

Date: May 24 2011 18:29

To: Christian Grey

Sir

Please note the date of origin: 1580-90. I would respectfully remind Sir that the year is 2011. We have come a long way since then.

May I offer a definition for you to consider for our meeting: compromise [kom-pr uh-mahyz] - noun

1. a settlement of differences by mutual concessions; an agreement reached by adjustment of conflicting or opposing claims, principles, etc., by reciprocal modification of demands. 2. the result of such a settlement. 3. something intermediate between different things: The split-level is a compromise between a ranch house and a multistoried house.

4. an endangering, esp. of reputation; exposure to danger, suspicion, etc.: a compro-

mise of one's integrity.

Ana

From: Christian Grey

Subject: What about My Issues?

Date: May 24 2011 18:32

To: Anastasia Steele

Good point, well made, as ever, Miss Steele. I will collect you from your apartment at 7:00 tomorrow.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: 2011 - Women can drive

Date: May 24 2011 18:40

To: Christian Grey

Sir

I have a car. I can drive.

I would prefer to meet you somewhere.

Where shall I meet you?

At your hotel at 7:00?

Ana

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Stubborn Young Women

Date: May 24 2011 18:43

To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

I refer to my email dated May 24, 2011 sent at 1:27 and the definition contained therein.

Do you ever think you'll be able to do what you're told?

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Intractable Men

Date: May 24 2011 18:49

To: Christian Grey

Mr. Grey

I would like to drive.

Please.

Ana

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Exasperated Men

Date: May 24 2011 18:52

To: Anastasia Steele

Fine.

My hotel at 7:00.

I'll meet you in the Marble Bar.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

He's even grumpy by email. Doesn't he understand that I may need to make a quick get-awayNot that my Beetle is quick... but still - I need a means of escape.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Not So Intractable Men

Date: May 24 2011 18:55

To: Christian Grey

Thank you.

Ana x

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Exasperating Women

Date: May 24 2011 18:59

To: Anastasia Steele

You're welcome.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I call Ray, who is just about to watch the Sounders play some soccer team from Salt Lake City, so our conversation is mercifully brief. He's driving down on Thursday for graduation. He wants to take me out afterward for a meal. My heart swells talking to Ray, and a huge lump knots in my throat. He has been my constant through all mom's romantic ups and downs. We have a special bond that I treasure. Even though he's my stepdad, he's always treated me as his own, and I can't wait to see him. It's been too long. His quiet fortitude is what I need now, what I miss. Maybe I can channel my inner Ray for my meeting tomorrow.

Kate and I concentrate on packing, sharing a bottle of cheap red wine as we do. When I finally go to bed, having almost finished packing my room, I feel calmer. The physical activity of boxing everything up has been a welcome distraction, and I'm tired. I want a good night's sleep. I snuggle into my bed and am soon asleep.

Paul is back from Princeton before he sets off for New York to start an internship with a financing company. He follows me round the store all day asking me for a date. It's annoying.

"Paul, for the hundredth time, I have a date this evening."

"No, you don't, you're just saying that to avoid me. You're always avoiding me."

Yes... you'd think you'd take the hint.

"Paul, I never thought it was a good idea to date the boss's brother."

"You're finishing here on Friday. You're not working tomorrow."

"And I'll be in Seattle as of Saturday and you'll be in New York soon. We couldn't get much further apart if we tried. Besides, I do have a date this evening."

"With Jose?"

"No."

"Who then?"

"Paul... oh." My sigh is exasperated. He's not going to let this go. "Christian Grey." I cannot help the annoyance in my voice. But it does the trick. Paul's mouth falls open, and he gapes at me, struck dumb. Humph - even his name renders people speechless.

"You have a date with Christian Grey," he says finally, once he's over the shock. Disbelief is evident in his voice.

"Yes."

"I see." Paul looks positively crestfallen, stunned even, and a very small part resents that he should find this a surprise. My inner goddess does too. She makes a very vulgar and unattractive gesture at him with her fingers.

After that, he ignores me, and at five I am out of the door, pronto.

Kate has lent me two dresses and two pairs of shoes for tonight and for graduation tomorrow. I wish I could feel more enthused about clothes and make an extra effort, but clothes are just not my thing. What is your thing, Anastasia Christian's softly spoken question haunts me. Shaking my head and endeavoring to quell my nerves, I decide on the plum-colored sheath dress for this evening. It's demure and vaguely business-like - after all, I am negotiating a contract.

I shower, shave my legs and underarms, wash my hair, and then spend a good half-hour drying it so that it falls in soft waves to my breasts and down my back. I slip a comb in to keep one side off my face and apply mascara and some lip-gloss. I rarely wear make-up - it intimidates me. None of my literary heroines had to deal with make-up - maybe I'd know more about it if they had. I slip on the plum-colored stilettos that match the dress, and I'm ready by six-thirty.

"Well?" I ask Kate.

She grins.

"Boy, you scrub up well, Ana." She nods with approval. "You look hot."

"Hot! I'm aiming for demure and business-like."

"That too, but most of all, hot. The dress really suits you and your coloring. The way it clings." She smirks.

"Kate!" I scold.

"Just keeping it real, Ana. The whole package - looks good. Keep the dress. You'll have him eating out of your hand."

My mouth presses in a hard line. Oh, you so have that the wrong...

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Fourteen



Christian is standing over me grasping a plaited, leather riding-crop. He's wearing old, faded, ripped Levis and that's all. He flicks the crop slowly into his palm as he gazes down at me. He's smiling, triumphant. I cannot move. I am naked and shackled, spread-eagled on a large four-poster bed. Reaching forward, he trails the tip of the crop from my forehead down the length of my nose, so I can smell the leather, and over my parted, panting lips.

He pushes the tip into my mouth so I can taste the smooth, rich leather.

"Suck," he commands his voice soft. My mouth closes over the tip as I obey.

"Enough," he snaps.

I'm panting once more as he tugs the crop out of my mouth, trails it down and under my chin, on down my neck to the hollow at the base of my throat. He swirls it slowly there and then continues to drag the tip down my body, along my sternum, between my breasts, over my torso down to my navel. I'm panting, squirming, pulling against my restraints that are biting into my wrists and my ankles. He swirls the tip around my navel then continues to trail the leather tip south, through my pubic hair to my clitoris. He flicks the crop and it hits my sweet spot with a sharp slap, and I come, gloriously, shouting my release.

Abruptly, I wake, gasping for breath, covered in sweat and feeling the aftershocks of my orgasm. Holy hell. I'm completely disorientated. What the hell just happened I'm in my bedroom alone. HowWhyI sit bolt upright, shocked... wow. It's morning. I glance at my alarm clock - eight o'clock. I put my head in my hands. I didn't know I could dream ***. Was it something I atePerhaps the oysters and my Internet research manifesting itself in my first wet dream. It's bewildering. I had no idea that I could orgasm in my sleep.

Kate is skipping around the kitchen when I stagger in.

"Ana, are you okayYou look odd. Is that Christian's jacket you're wearing?"

"I'm fine." Damn, should have checked in the mirror. I avoid her piercing green eyes.

I'm still reeling from my morning's event. "Yes, this is Christian's jacket."

She frowns.

"Did you sleep?"

"Not very well."

I head for the kettle. I need tea.

"How was dinner?"

So it begins.

"We had oysters. Followed by cod, so I'd say it was fishy."

"Ugh... I hate oysters, and I don't want to know about the food. How was Christian?

What did you talk about?"

"He was attentive," I pause.

What can I sayHis HIV status is clear, he's heavily into role-play, wants me to obey his every command, he hurt someone he tied to his bedroom ceiling, and he wanted to **** me in the private dining room. Would that be a good summaryI try desperately to remember something from my encounter with Christian that I can discuss with Kate.

"He doesn't approve of Wanda."

"Who does, AnaThat's old news. Why are you being so coyGive it up, girlfriend."

"Oh, Kate, we talked about lots things. You know - how fussy he is about food. Incidentally, he liked your dress." The kettle has boiled, so I make myself some tea. "Do you want teaWould you like me to hear your speech for today?"

"Yes, please. I worked on it last night over at Lilah's. I'll go fetch it. And yes, I'd love some tea." Kate races out of the kitchen.

Phew, Katherine Kavanagh sidetracked. I slice a bagel and pop it into the toaster. I flush remembering my very vivid dream. What on earth was that about?

Last night I found it hard to sleep. My head was buzzing with various options. I am so confused. Christian's idea of a relationship is more like a job offer. It has set hours, a job description, and a rather harsh grievance procedure. It's not how I envisaged my first romance - but, of course, Christian doesn't do romance. If I tell him I want more, he may say no... and I could jeopardize what he has offered. And this is what concerns me most, because I don't want to lose him. But I'm not sure I have the stomach to be his submissive

- deep down, it's the canes and whips that put me off. I'm a physical coward, and I will go a long way to avoid pain. I think of my dream... is that what it would be like My inner goddess jumps up and down with cheerleading pom-poms shouting yes at me.

Kate comes back into the kitchen with her laptop. I concentrate on my bagel and listen patiently as she runs through her Valedictorian speech.

I am dressed and ready when Ray arrives. I open the front door, and he's standing on the porch in his ill-fitting suit. A warm surge of gratitude and love for this uncomplicated man streaks through me, and I throw my arms around him in an uncharacteristic display of affection. He's taken-aback, bemused.

"Hey, Annie, I'm pleased to see you too," he mutters as he hugs me. Setting me back, his hands on my shoulders, he looks me up and down, his brow furrowed. "You okay, kid?"

"Of course, Dad, can't a girl be pleased to see her old man?"

He smiles, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners, and follows me into the living area.

"You look good," he says.

"This is Kate's dress." I glance down at the grey chiffon halter neck dress.

He frowns.

"Where is Kate?"

"She's gone to campus. She's giving a speech, so she has to be early."

"Should we head on over?"

"Dad, we have half an hour. Would you like some teaAnd you can tell me how everyone in Montesano is getting along. How was the drive down?"

Ray pulls his car into the campus parking lot, and we follow the stream of humanity dotted with ubiquitous black and red gowns, heading toward the sports au***orium.

"Good luck, Annie. You seem awfully nervous, do you have to do anything?"

Holy crap... why has Ray picked today to be so observant?

"No, Dad. It's a big day." And I'm going to see him.

"Yeah, my baby girl has gotten a degree. I'm proud of you, Annie."

"Aw... thanks Ray." Oh I love this man.

The sports au***orium is crowded. Ray has gone to sit with the other parents and well-wishers in the raked seating, while I make my way to my seat. I'm wearing my black gown and my cap, and I feel protected by them, anonymous. There is no one on the stage yet, but I can't seem to steady my nerves. My heart is pounding, and my breathing is shallow. He's here, somewhere. I wonder if Kate is talking to him, interrogating him maybe.

I make my way to my seat amongst fellow students whose surnames also begin with S. I am in the second row, affording me yet more anonymity. I glance behind me and spot Ray sat up high in the bleachers. I give him a wave. He self-consciously gives me a half-wave, half-salute back. I sit and wait.

The au***orium fills quickly, and the buzz of excited voices gets louder and louder. The row of seats in front fills. On either side of me, I am joined by two girls whom I don't know from a different faculty. They're obviously close friends and talk across me excitedly.

At eleven precisely, the Chancellor appears from behind the stage, followed by the three Vice Chancellors, and then the senior professors, all decked out in their black and red regalia. We stand and applaud our teaching staff. Some Professors nod and wave, others look bored. Professor Collins, my tutor and my favorite teacher, looks like he's just fallen out of bed, as usual. Last on to the stage are Kate and Christian. Christian stands out in his bespoke gray suit, copper highlights glinting in his hair under the au***orium lights. He looks so serious and self-contained. As he sits, he undoes his single-breasted jacket, and I glimpse his tie. Holy ****... that tie! I rub my wrists reflexively. I cannot take my eyes off him - his beauty as distracting as ever - and he's wearing that tie, on purpose no doubt. I can feel my mouth press into a hard line. The audience sits down and the applause ceases.

"Look at him!" One of the girls beside me breathes enthusiastically to her friend.

"He's hot."

I stiffen. I'm sure they're not talking about Professor Collins.

"Must be Christian Grey."

"Is he single?"

I bristle.

"I don't think so," I murmur.

"Oh." Both girls look at me in surprise.

"I think he's gay," I mutter.

"What a shame," one of the girls groans.

As the Chancellor gets to his feet and kicks off the proceedings with his speech, I watch Christian subtly scanning the hall. I sink into my seat, hunching my shoulders, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. I fail miserably as a second later his gray eyes find mine. He stares at me, his face impassive, completely inscrutable. I squirm uncomfortably, hypnotized by his glare as I feel a slow flush spread across my face. Unbidden, I recall my dream from this morning, and the muscles in my belly do the delectable clench thing. I inhale sharply. I can see the shadow of a smile cross his lips, but it's fleeting. He briefly closes his eyes, and on opening them, resumes his indifferent expression.

Following a swift glance up at the Chancellor, he stares ahead, focusing on the WSUV em-blem hung above the entrance. He doesn't turn his eyes toward me again. The Chancellor drones on, and Christian still doesn't look at me, he just stares fixedly ahead.

Why...

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Fifteen



"Hi." I feel unbearably shy when I open the door. Christian is standing on the porch in his jeans and leather jacket.

"Hi," he says, and his face lights up with his radiant smile. I take a moment to admire the pretty. Oh my, he's hot in leather.

"Come in."

"If I may," he says amused. He holds up a bottle of champagne as he walks in. "I thought we'd celebrate your graduation. Nothing beats a good Bollinger."

"Interesting choice of words," I comment dryly.

He grins.

"Oh, I like your ready wit, Anastasia."

"We only have teacups. We've packed all the glasses."

"TeacupsSounds good to me."

I head into the kitchen. Nervous, butterflies flooding my stomach, it's like having a panther or mountain lion all unpredictable and predatory in my living room.

"Do you want saucers as well?"

"Teacups will be fine, Anastasia," Christian calls distractedly from the living room.

When I return, he's staring at the brown parcel of books. I place the cups on the table.

"That's for you," I murmur anxiously.

Crap... this is probably going to be a fight.

"Hmm, I figured as much. Very apt quote." His long index finger absently traces the writing. "I thought I was D'Urberville, not Angel. You decided on the debasement." He gives me a brief wolfish smile. "Trust you to find something that resonates so appropriately."

"It's also a plea," I whisper. Why am I so nervous My mouth is dry.

"A pleaFor me to go easy on you?"

I nod.

"I bought these for you," he says quietly his gaze impassive. "I'll go easier on you if you accept them."

I swallow convulsively.

"Christian, I can't accept them, they're just too much."

"You see, this is what I was talking about, you defying me. I want you to have them, and that's the end of the discussion. It's very simple. You don't have to think about this.

As a submissive you would just be grateful for them. You just accept what I buy you because it pleases me for you to do so."

"I wasn't a submissive when you bought them for me," I whisper.

"No... but you've agreed, Anastasia." His eyes turn wary.

I sigh. I am not going to win this, so over to plan B.

"So they are mine to do with as I wish?"

He eyes me suspiciously, but concedes.

"Yes."

"In that case, I'd like to give them to a charity, one working in Darfur since that seems to be close to your heart. They can auction them."

"If that's what you want to do." His mouth sets into a hard line. He's disappointed.

I flush.

"I'll think about it," I murmur, I don't want to disappoint him, and his words come back to me. I want you to want to please me.

"Don't think, Anastasia. Not about this." His tone is quiet and serious.

How can I not thinkYou can pretend to be a car, like his other possessions, my subconscious makes an unwelcome vitriolic return. I ignore her. Oh, can't we rewindThe atmosphere between us is now tense. I don't know what to do. I stare down at my fingers.

How do I retrieve this situation?

He puts the champagne bottle on the table and stands in front of me. Putting his hand under my chin, he tilts my head up. He gazes down at me, his expression grave.

"I will buy you lots of things, Anastasia. Get used to it. I can afford it. I'm a very wealthy man." He leans down and plants a swift, chaste kiss on my lips. "Please." He releases me.

'Ho' my subconscious mouths at me.

"It makes me feel cheap," I murmur.

Christian runs his hand through his hair, exasperated.

"It shouldn't. You're over-thinking it, Anastasia. Don't place some vague moral judgment on yourself based on what others might think. Don't waste your energy. It's only because you have reservations about our arrangement, that's perfectly natural. You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

I frown, trying to process his words.

"Hey, stop this," he commands softly, cupping my chin again and pulling at it gently so I release my lower lip from my teeth. "There is nothing about you that is cheap, Anastasia.

I won't have you thinking that. I just bought you some old books that I thought might mean something to you, that's all. Have some champagne." His eyes warm and soften, and I smile tentatively back up at him. "That's better," he murmurs. He picks up the champagne, takes off the foil top and cage, twists the bottle rather than the cork, and opens it with a small pop and a practiced flourish that doesn't spill a drop. He half fills the cups.

"It's pink," I murmur, surprised.

"Bollinger Grande Annee Rose 1999, an excellent vintage," he says with relish.

"In teacups."

He grins.

"In teacups. Congratulations on your degree, Anastasia." We clink cups, and he takes a drink, but I can't help thinking this is really about my capitulation.

"Thank you," I murmur and take a sip. Of course it's delicious. "Shall we go through the soft limits?"

He smiles, and I blush.

"Always so eager." Christian takes my hand and leads me to the couch where he sits and tugs me down beside him.

"You're stepfather's a very taciturn man."

Oh... not soft limits then. I just want to get this out of the way; the anxiety is gnawing at me.

"You managed to have him eating out of your hand." I pout.

Christian laughs softly.

"Only because I know how to fish."

"How do you know he liked fishing?"

"You told me. When we went for coffee."

"Oh... did I?" I take another sip. Wow he has a memory for detail. Hmm... this champagne really is very good. "Did you try the wine at the reception?"

Christian makes a face.

"Yes. It was foul."

"I thought of you when I tasted it. How did you get to be so knowledgeable about wine?"

"I'm not knowledgeable, Anastasia, I just know what I like." His gray eyes shine, almost silver, and it makes me flush. "Some more?" he asks, referring to the champagne.

"Please."

Christian rises gracefully and collects the bottle. He fills my cup. Is he getting me tipsyI eye him suspiciously.

"This place looks pretty bare, are you ready for the move?"

"More or less."

"Are you working tomorrow?"

"Yes, my last day at Clayton's"

"I'd help you move, but I promised to meet my sister at the airport."

Oh... this is news.

"Mia arrives from Paris very early Saturday morning. I'm heading back to Seattle tomorrow, but I hear Elliot is giving you two a hand."

"Yes, Kate is very excited about that."

Christian frowns.

"Yes, Kate and Elliot, who would have thought?" he murmurs, and for some reason, he doesn't look pleased.

"So what are you doing about work in Seattle?"

When are we going to talk about the limitsWhat's his game?

"I have a couple of interviews for intern places."

"You were going tell me this when?" He arches a brow.

"Err... I'm telling you now."

He narrows his eyes.

"Where?"

For some reason, possibly because he might use his influence, I don't want to tell him.

"A couple of publishing houses."

"Is that what you want to do, something in publishing?"

I nod warily.

"Well?" He looks at me patiently wanting more information.

"Well what?"

"Don't be obtuse, Anastasia, which publishing houses?" he scolds.

"Just small ones," I murmur.

"Why don't you want me to know?"

"Undue influence."

He frowns.

"Oh, now you're being obtuse."

He laughs.

"ObtuseMeGod, you're challenging. Drink up, let's talk about these limits." He fishes out another copy of my email and the list. Does he wander about with these lists in his pocketsI think there's one in his jacket that I have. ****, I'd better not forget that. I drain my cup.

He glances quickly at me.

"More?"

"Please."

He smiles that oh-so-smug-private smile of his, holds the champagne bottle up, and pauses.

"Have you eaten anything?"

Oh no... not this old chestnut.

"Yes. I had a three course meal with Ray." I roll my eyes at him. The champagne is making me bold.

He leans forward and holds my chin, staring intently into my eyes.

"Next time you roll your eyes at me, I will take you across my knee."

What?!

"Oh," I breathe, and I can see the excitement in his eyes.

"Oh," he responds, mirroring my tone. "So it begins, Anastasia."

My heart slams against my chest, and the butterflies escape from my stomach into my constricting throat. Why is that hot?

He fills my cup, and I drink practically all of it. Chastened, I stare up at him.

"Got your attention now, haven't I?"

I nod.

"Answer...

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Sixteen



Slowly the outside world invades my senses, and oh my, what an invasion. I am floating, my limbs soft and languid, utterly spent. I'm lying on top of him, my head on his chest, and he smells divine: fresh, laundered linen and some expensive body wash, and the best, most seductive scent on the planet... Christian. I don't want to move, I want to breathe this elixir for eternity. I nuzzle him, wishing I didn't have the barrier of his t-shirt. And as rhyme and reason return to the rest of my body, I stretch my hand out on his chest. This is the first time I've touched him here. He's firm... strong. His hand swoops up and grabs mine, but he softens the blow by pulling it to his mouth and sweetly kissing my knuckles.

He rolls over so he's gazing down at me.

"Don't," he murmurs, then kisses me lightly.

"Why don't you like to be touched?" I whisper, staring up into soft gray eyes.

"Because I'm fifty shades of ****ed-up, Anastasia."

Oh... his honesty is completely disarming. I blink up at him.

"I had a very tough introduction to life. I don't want to burden you with the details.

Just don't." He strokes his nose against mine, and then he pulls out of me and sits up.

"I think that's all the very basics covered. How was that?"

He looks thoroughly pleased with himself and sounds very matter-of-fact at the same time, like he's just marked another tick box in a checklist. I'm still reeling from the tough introduction to life comment. It's so frustrating - I am desperate to know more. But he won't tell me. I **** my head to one side, like he does, and make an enormous effort to smile at him.

"If you imagine for one minute that I think you ceded control to me, well you haven't taken into account my GPA." I smile shyly at him. "But thank you for the illusion."

"Miss Steele, you are not just a pretty face. You've had six orgasms so far and all of them belong to me," he boasts, playful again.

I flush and blink at the same time, as he stares down at me. He's keeping count! His brow furrows.

"Do you have something to tell me?" his voice is suddenly stern.

I frown . Crap.

"I had a dream this morning."

"Oh?" He glares at me.

Double crap. Am I in trouble?

"I came in my sleep." I throw my arm over my eyes. He says nothing. I peek up at him from under my arm, and he looks amused.

"In your sleep?"

"Woke me up."

"I'm sure it did. What were you dreaming about?"

Crap.

"You."

"What was I doing?"

I throw my arm over my eyes again. And like a small child, I briefly entertain the thought that if I can't see him, then he can't see me.

"Anastasia, what was I doingI won't ask you again."

"You had a riding crop."

He moves my arm.

"Really?"

"Yes." I am crimson.

"There's hope for you yet," he murmurs. "I have several riding crops."

"Brown plaited leather?"

He laughs.

"No, but I'm sure I could get one." His gray eyes blaze with excitement.

Leaning down, he gives me a brief kiss then stands and grabs his boxers, oh no... he's going. I glance quickly at the time - it's only nine-forty. I scoot out of bed too and grab my sweat pants and a cami top, then sit back on the bed, cross-legged, watching him. I don't want him to go. What can I do?

"When is your period due?" He interrupts my thoughts.

What!

"I hate wearing these things," he grumbles. He holds up the condom, then puts it on the floor, and slips on his jeans.

"Well?" he prompts when I don't reply, and he looks at me expectantly as if he's waiting for my opinion on the weather. Holy crap... this is personal stuff.

"Next week." I stare down at my hands.

"You need to sort out some contraception."

He is so bossy. I stare at him blankly. He sits back on the bed as he puts on his shoes and socks.

"Do you have a doctor?"

I shake my head. We are back to mergers and acquisitions - another 180-degree mood swing.

He frowns.

"I can have mine come and see you at your apartment - Sunday morning before you come and see me. Or he can see you at my place. Which would you prefer?"

No pressure then. Something else that he's paying for... but actually this is for his benefit.

"Your place." That means I am guaranteed to see him Sunday.

"Okay. I'll let you know the time."

"Are you leaving?"

Don't go... stay with me please.

"Yes."

Why?

"How are you getting back?" I whisper.

"Taylor will pick me up."

"I can drive you. I have a lovely new car."

He gazes at me, his expression warm.

"That's more like it. But I think you've had too much to drink."

"Did you get me tipsy on purpose?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you over-think everything, and you're reticent like your stepdad. A drop of wine in you and you start talking, and I need you to communicate honestly with me. Otherwise you clam up, and I have no idea what you're thinking. In vino veritas, Anastasia."

"And you think you're always honest with me?"

"I endeavor to be." He looks down at me warily. "This will only work if we're honest with each other."

"I'd like you to stay and use this." I hold up the second condom.

He smiles and his eyes glow with humor.

"Anastasia, I have crossed so many lines here tonight. I have to go. I'll see you on Sunday. I'll have the revised contract ready for you, and then we can really start to play."

"Play?" Holy ****. My heart leaps into my mouth.

"I'd like to do a scene with you. But I won't until you've signed, so I know you're ready."

"Oh. So I could stretch this out, if I don't sign?"

He gazes at me assessing, and then his lips twitch into a smile.

"Well, I suppose you could, but I may crack under the strain."

"CrackHow?" My inner goddess has woken and is paying attention.

He nods slowly, and then he grins, teasing.

"Could get really ugly."

His grin is infectious.

"Ugly, how?"

"Oh you know, explosions, car chases, kidnapping, incarceration."

"You'd kidnap me?"

"Oh yes," he grins.

"Hold me against my will?" Jeez this is hot.

"Oh yes," he nods. "And then we're talking TPE 24/7."

"You've lost me," I breathe, my heart is pounding... is he serious?

"Total Power Exchange - round the clock." His eyes are shining, and I can feel his excitement from where I sit.

Holy ****.

"So you have no choice," he says sardonically.

"Clearly." I can't keep the sarcasm out of my voice as my eyes reach for the heavens.

"Oh, Anastasia Steele, did you just roll your eyes at me?"

Crap.

"No," I squeak.

"I think you did. What did I say I'd do to you if you rolled your eyes at me again?"

****. He sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Come here," he says softly.

I blanch. Jeez... he's serious. I sit staring at him completely immobile.

"I haven't signed," I whisper.

"I told you what I'd do. I'm a man of my word. I'm going to spank you, and then I'm going to **** you very quick and very hard. Looks like we'll need that condom after all."

His voice is so soft, menacing, and it's damned hot. My insides practically contort with potent, needy, liquid, desire. He gazes at me, waiting, eyes blazing. Tentatively, I uncurl my legs. Should I run This is it, our relationship hangs in the balance, right here, right now. Do I let him do this or do I say no, and then that's itBecause I know it will be over if I say no. Do it! My inner goddess pleads with me, my subconscious is as paralyzed as I am."I'm waiting," he says. "I'm not a patient man."

Oh for the love of all that's holy. I'm panting, afraid, turned on. Blood pounding through my body, my legs are like jelly. Slowly, I crawl over to him until I am beside him.

"Good girl," he murmurs. "Now stand up."

Oh ****... can't he just get this over withI'm not sure if I can stand. Hesitantly, I clamber to my feet. He holds his hand out, and I place the condom in his palm. Suddenly he grabs me, tipping me across his lap. With one smooth movement, he angles his body so my torso is resting on the bed beside him. He throws his right leg over both of mine and plants his left forearm on the small of my back, holding me down so I cannot move. Oh ****. "Put your hands up on either side of your head," he orders.

I obey immediately.

"Why am I doing this, Anastasia?" he asks.

"Because I rolled my eyes at you," I can barely speak.

"Do you think that's polite?"

"No."

"Will you do it again?"

"No."

"I will spank you each time you do it, do you understand?"

Very...

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Seventeen



The candle flame is too hot. It flickers and dances in the over-warm breeze, a breeze that brings no respite from the heat. Soft gossamer wings flutter to and fro in the dark, sprinkling dusty scales in the circle of light. I'm struggling to resist, but I'm drawn. And then it's so bright, and I am flying too close to the sun, dazzled by the light, fried and melting from the heat, weary in my endeavors to stay airborne. I am so warm. The heat... it's stifling, overpowering. It wakes me.

I open my eyes, and I'm draped in Christian Grey. He's wrapped around me like a victory flag. He's fast asleep with his head on my chest, his arm over me, holding me close, one of his legs thrown over and hooked around both of mine. He's suffocating me with his body heat, and he's heavy. I take a moment to absorb that he's still in my bed and fast asleep, and it's light outside - morning. He has spent the whole night with me.

My right arm is stretched, no doubt in search of a cool spot, and as I process the fact that he's still with me, the thought occurs that I can touch him. He's asleep. Tentatively, I lift my hand and run the tips of my fingers down his back. Deep in his throat, I hear a faint distressed groan, and he stirs. He nuzzles my chest, inhaling deeply as he wakes. Sleepy, blinking gray eyes meet mine beneath his tousled mop of hair.

"Good morning," he mumbles and frowns. "Jesus, even in my sleep I'm drawn to you." He moves slowly, unpeeling his limbs from me as he gets his bearings. I become

aware of his erection against my hip. He notices my wide-eyed reaction, and he smiles a slow ***y smile.

"Hmm... this has possibilities, but I think we should wait until Sunday." He leans down and nuzzles my ear with his nose.

I flush, but then I feel seven shades of scarlet from his heat.

"You're very hot," I murmur.

"You're not so bad yourself," he murmurs and presses himself against me, suggestively.

I flush some more. That's not what I meant. He props himself up on his elbow gazing down at me, amused. He bends, and to my surprise, plants a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Sleep well?" he asks.

I nod, staring up at him, and I realize that I've slept very well except maybe for the last half-hour when I was too hot.

"So did I." He frowns. "Yes, really well." He raises his eyebrows in confused surprise.

"What's the time?"

I glance at my alarm.

"It's 7:30."

"7:30... ****." He scrambles out of bed and drags on his jeans.

It is my turn to look amused as I sit up. Christian Grey is late and flustered. This is something I have never seen before. I belatedly realize that my behind is no longer sore.

"You are such a bad influence on me. I have a meeting. I have to go - I have to be in Portland at eight. Are you smirking at me?"

"Yes."

He grins.

"I'm late. I don't do late. Another first, Miss Steele." He pulls on his jacket and then bends down and grasps my head, his hands on either side.

"Sunday," he says, and the word is pregnant with an unspoken promise. Everything deep in my body uncurls and then clenches in delicious anticipation, the feeling is exquisite. Holy hell, if my mind could just keep up with my body. He leans forward and kisses me quickly. He grabs his stuff from my side table and his shoes - which he doesn't put on.

"Taylor will come and sort your Beetle. I was serious. Don't drive it. I'll see you at my place on Sunday. I'll email you a time." And like a whirlwind, he's gone .

Oh my, Christian Grey spent the night with me, and I feel rested. And there was no ***, only cuddling. He told me he never slept with anyone - but he's slept three times with me.

I grin and slowly climb out of my bed. I feel more optimistic than I have for the last day or so. I head for the kitchen, needing a cup of tea.

After breakfast, I shower and dress quickly for my last day at Clayton's. It is the end of an era - goodbye to Mr. Mrs. Clayton, WSU, Vancouver, the apartment, my Beetle. I glance at the mean machine - it's only 7:52. I have time.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Assault and Battery: The after-effects Date: May 27 2011 08:05

To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey

You wanted to know why I felt confused after you - which euphemism should we apply - spanked, punished, beat, assaulted me. Well during the whole alarming process I felt demeaned, debased and abused. And much to my mortification, you're right, I was aroused, and that was unexpected. As you are well aware, all things ***ual are new to me - I only wish I was more experienced and therefore more prepared. I was shocked to feel aroused.

What really worried me was how I felt afterwards. And that's more difficult to articulate.

I was happy that you were happy. I felt relieved that it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. And when I was lying in your arms, I felt - sated. But I feel very uncomfortable, guilty even, feeling that way. It doesn't sit well with me, and I'm confused as a result. Does that answer your question?

I hope the world of Mergers and Acquisitions is as stimulating as ever... and that you weren't too late.

Thank you for staying with me.

Ana

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Free Your Mind

Date: May 27 2011 08:24

To: Anastasia Steele

Interesting... if slightly overstated title heading Miss Steele.

To answer your points:

I'll go with spanking - as that's what it was.

So you felt demeaned, debased, abused assaulted - how very Tess Durbeyfield of you. I believe it was you who decided on the debasement if I remember correctly. Do you really feel like this or do you think you ought to feel like this?

Two very different things. If that is how you feel, do you think you could just try and embrace these feelings, deal with them, for meThat's what a submissive would do.

I am grateful for your inexperience. I value it, and I'm only beginning to understand what it means. Simply put... it means that you are mine in every way.

Yes, you were aroused, which in turn was very arousing, there's nothing wrong with that.

Happy does not even begin to cover how I felt. Ecstatic joy comes close.

Punishment spanking hurts far more than sensual spanking - so that's about as hard as it gets, unless of course you commit some major transgression, in which case I'll use some implement to punish you with. My hand was very sore. But I like that.

I felt sated too - more so than you could ever know.

Don't waste your energy on guilt, feelings of wrongdoing etc. We are consent-ing adults and what we do behind closed doors is between ourselves. You need to free your mind and listen to your body.

The world of MA is not nearly as stimulating as you are Miss Steele.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Holy crap... mine in every way. My breath hitches.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Consenting Adults!

Date: May 27 2011 08:26

To: Christian Grey

Aren't you in a meeting?

I'm very glad your hand was sore.

And if I listened to my body, I'd be in Alaska by now.

Ana

PS: I will think about embracing these feelings.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: You Didn't Call the Cops

Date: May 27 2011 08:35

To: Anastasia Steele

Miss Steele

I am in a meeting discussing the futures market if you're really interested.

For the record - you stood beside me knowing what I was going to do.

You didn't at any time ask me to stop - you didn't use either safe word.

You are an adult - you have choices.

Quite frankly, I'm looking forward to the next time my palm is ringing with pain.

You're obviously not listening to the right part of your body.

Alaska is very cold and no place to run. I would find you.

I can track your cell phone - remember?

Go to work.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I scowl at the screen. He's right of course. It's my choice. Hmm. Is he serious about coming to find me, should I decide to escape for a whileMy mind flits briefly to my mother's offer. I hit reply.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Stalker

Date: May 27 2011 08:36

To: Christian Grey

Have you sought therapy for your stalker tendencies?

Ana

From: Christian Grey

Subject: StalkerMe?

Date: May 27 2011 08:38

To: Anastasia Steele

I pay the eminent Dr. Flynn a small fortune with regard to my stalker and other tendencies.

Go to work.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Expensive Charlatans

Date: May 27 2011 08:40

To: Christian Grey

May I humbly suggest you seek a second opinion?

I am not sure that Dr. Flynn is very effective.

Miss Steele

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Second Opinions

Date: May 27 2011 08:43

To: Anastasia Steele

Not that it's any of your business, humble or otherwise, but Dr. Flynn is the second opinion.

You will have to speed, in your new car, putting yourself at unnecessary risk - I think that's against the rules.

GO TO WORK.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: SHOUTY CAPITALS

Date: May 27 2011 08:47

To:...

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Eighteen



Dr. Greene is tall, blond, and immaculate, dressed in a royal blue suit. I'm reminded of the women who work in Christian's office. She's like an identikit model - another Stepford blonde. Her long hair is swept up in an elegant chignon. She must be in her early forties.

"Mr. Grey." She shakes Christian's outstretched hand.

"Thank you for coming at such short notice," Christian says.

"Thank you for making it worth my while, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele." She smiles, her eyes cool and assessing.

We shake hands, and I know she's one of those women who doesn't tolerate fools gladly. Like Kate. I like her immediately. She gives Christian a pointed stare, and after an awkward beat, he takes his cue.

"I'll be downstairs," he mutters, and he leaves what will be my bedroom.

"Well Miss Steele. Mr. Grey is paying me a small fortune to attend to you. What can I do for you?"

After a thorough examination and lengthy discussion, Dr. Greene and I decide on the mini pill. She writes me a pre-paid prescription and instructs me to pick them up tomorrow. I love her no-nonsense attitude - she has lectured me until she's as blue as her dress about taking it at the same time every day. And I can tell she's burning with curiosity about my so-called relationship with Mr. Grey. I don't give her any details. Somehow I don't think she'd look so calm and collected if she'd seen his Red Room of Pain. I flush as we pass its closed door and head back downstairs to the art gallery that is Christian's living room.

Christian is reading, seated on his couch. A breathtaking aria is playing on the music system, swirling round him, cocooning him, filling the room with a sweet, soulful song.

For a moment, he looks serene. He turns and glances at us when we enter and smiles warmly at me.

"Are you done?" he asks as if he's genuinely interested. He points the remote at a sleek white box beneath the fireplace that houses his iPod, and the exquisite melody fades but continues in the background. Standing, he strolls towards us.

"Yes, Mr. Grey. Look after her; she's a beautiful, bright young woman."

Christian is taken aback - as am I. What an inappropriate thing for a doctor to say. Is she giving him some kind of not so subtle warningChristian recovers himself.

"I fully intend to," he mutters, bemused.

Gazing at him, I shrug, embarrassed.

"I'll send you my bill," she says crisply as she shakes his hand.

"Good day, and good luck to you, Ana." She smiles, her eyes crinkling as she does when we shake hands.

Taylor appears from nowhere to escort her through the double doors and out to the elevator. How does he do thatWhere does he lurk?

"How was that?" Christian asks.

"Fine, thank you. She said that I had to abstain from all ***ual activity for the next four weeks."

Christian's mouth drops open in shock, and I cannot keep a straight face any longer and grin at him like an idiot.

"Gotcha!"

He narrows his eyes, and I immediately stop laughing. In fact, he looks rather forbidding. Oh ****. My subconscious quails in the corner as all the blood drains from my face, and I imagine him putting me across his knee again.

"Gotcha!" he says and smirks. He grabs me around my waist and pulls me up against him. "You are incorrigible, Miss Steele," he murmurs, staring down into my eyes as he weaves his fingers into my hair, holding me firmly in place. He kisses me, hard, and I cling on to his muscular arms for support.

"As much as I'd like to take you here, now, you need to eat and so do I. I don't want you passing out on me later," he murmurs against my lips.

"Is that all you want me for - my body?" I whisper.

"That and your smart mouth," he breathes.

He kisses me again passionately, and then abruptly releases me, taking my hand and leading me to the kitchen. I am reeling. One minute we're joking and the next... I fan my heated face. He's just *** on legs, and now I have to recover my equilibrium and eat something. The aria is still playing in the background.

"What's the music?"

"Villa Lobos, an aria from Bachianas Brasileiras. Good, isn't it?"

"Yes," I murmur in total agreement.

The breakfast bar is laid for two; Christian takes a salad bowl from the fridge.

"Chicken caesar salad okay with you?"

Oh thank heavens, nothing too heavy.

"Yes, fine, thank you."

I watch as he moves gracefully through his kitchen. He's so at ease with his body on one level, but then he doesn't like to be touched... so maybe deep down he isn't. No man is an island, I muse - except perhaps Christian Grey.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, pulling me from my reverie. I flush.

"I was just watching the way you move."

He raises an eyebrow, amused.

"And?" he says dryly.

I flush some more.

"You're very graceful."

"Why thank you, Miss Steele," he murmurs. He sits down beside me, holding a bottle of wine. "Chablis?"

"Please."

"Help yourself to salad," he says, his voice soft.

"Tell me - what method did you opt for?"

I am momentarily thrown by his question, when I realize he's talking about Dr. Greene's visit."Mini pill."

He frowns.

"And will you remember to take it regularly, at the right time, every day?"

Jeez... of course I will. How does he knowI blush at the thought, probably from one or more of the fifteen.

"I'm sure you'll remind me," I murmur dryly.

He glances at me with amused condescension.

"I'll put an alarm on my calendar." He smirks. "Eat."

The chicken caesar is delicious. To my surprise, I'm famished, and for the first time since I've been with him, I finish my meal before he does. The wine is crisp, clean, and fruity.

"Eager as ever, Miss Steele?" he smiles down at my empty plate.

I look at him from beneath my lashes.

"Yes," I whisper.

His breath hitches. And as he stares down at me, I feel the atmosphere between us slowly shift, evolve... charge. His look goes from dark to smoldering, taking me with him.

He stands, closing the distance between us, and tugs me off my bar stool into his arms.

"Do you want to do this?" he breathes, looking down at me intently.

"I haven't signed anything."

"I know - but I'm breaking all the rules these days."

"Are you going to hit me?"

"Yes, but it won't be to hurt you. I don't want to punish you right now. If you'd caught me yesterday evening, well, that would have been a different story."

Holy cow. He wants to hurt me... how do I deal with thisI can't hide the horror on my face.

"Don't let anyone try and convince you otherwise, Anastasia. One of the reasons people like me do this is because we either like to give or receive pain. It's very simple.

You don't, so I spent a great deal of time yesterday thinking about that."

He pulls me against him, and his erection presses into my belly. I should run, but I can't. I'm drawn to him on some deep, elemental level, that I can't begin to understand.

"Did you reach any conclusions?" I whisper.

"No, and right now, I just want to tie you up and **** you senseless. Are you ready for that?"

"Yes," I breathe as everything in my body tightens at once... wow.

"Good. Come." He takes my hand and, leaving all the dirty dishes on the breakfast bar, and we head upstairs.

My heart starts pounding. This is it. I'm really going to do this. My inner goddess is spinning like a world-class ballerina, pirouette after pirouette. He opens the door to his playroom, standing back for me to walk through, and I am once more in the Red Room of Pain.It's the same, the smell of leather, citrus, polish and dark wood, all very sensual. My blood is running heated and scared through my system - adrenaline mixed with lust and longing. It's a heady, potent ****tail. Christian's stance has changed completely, subtly altered, harder and meaner. He gazes down at me and his eyes are heated, lustful... hypnotic.

"When you're in here, you are completely mine," he breathes, each word slow and measured. "To do with as I see fit. Do you understand?"

His gaze is so intense. I nod, my mouth dry, my heart thumping for a way out of my chest.

"Take your shoes off," he orders softly.

I swallow, and rather clumsily, I take them off. He bends and picks them up and deposits them beside the door.

"Good. Don't hesitate when I ask you to do something. Now I'm going to peel you out of this dress. Something I've wanted to do for a few days if I recall. I want you to be comfortable with your body, Anastasia. You have a beautiful body, and I like to look at it.

It is a joy to behold. In fact, I could gaze at you all day, and I want you unembarrassed and unashamed of your nakedness. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" He leans over me, glaring.

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you mean that?" he snaps.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Lift your arms up over your head."

I...

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Nineteen



Soft lips brush across my temple, leaving sweet tender kisses in their wake, and part of me wants to turn and respond, but mostly I want to stay asleep. I moan and burrow into my pillow.

"Anastasia, wake up." Christian's voice is soft, cajoling.

"No," I moan.

"We have to leave in half an hour for dinner at my parents." He's amused.

I open my eyes reluctantly. It's dusk outside. Christian is leaning over, gazing at me intently.

"Come on sleepy-head. Get up." He stoops down and kisses me again.

"I've bought you a drink. I'll be downstairs. Don't go back to sleep, or you'll be in trouble," he threatens, but his tone is mild. He kisses me briefly and exits, leaving me blinking sleep from my eyes in the cool, stark room.

I'm refreshed but suddenly nervous. Holy cow, I am meeting his folks! He's just worked me over with a riding crop and tied me up using a cable tie which I sold him, for heaven's sake - and I'm going to meet his parents. It will be Kate's first time meeting them too - at least she'll be there for support. I roll my shoulders. They're stiff. His demands for a personal trainer don't seem so outlandish now, in fact, they're mandatory if I am to have any hope of keeping up with him.

I climb slowly out of bed and note that my dress is hanging outside the wardrobe and my bra is on the chair. Where are my pantiesI check beneath the chair. Nothing. Then I remember - he squirreled them away in the pocket of his jeans. I flush at the memory, after he, I can't even bring myself to think about it, he was so - barbarous. I frown. Why hasn't he given me back my panties?

I steal into the bathroom, bewildered by my lack of underwear. While drying myself after my enjoyable but far too brief shower, I realize he's done this on purpose. He wants me to be embarrassed and ask for my panties back, and he'll either say yes or no. My inner goddess grins at me. Hell... two can play that particular game. Resolving there and then not to ask him for them and not give him that satisfaction, I shall go meet his parents sans culottes. Anastasia Steele! My subconscious chides me, but I don't want to listen to her - I almost hug myself with glee because I know this will drive him crazy.

Back in the bedroom, I put on my bra, slip into my dress, and climb into my shoes. I remove the braid and hastily brush out my hair, I then glance down at the drink he's left.

It's pale pink. What's thisCranberry and sparkling water. Hmm... it tastes delicious and quenches my thirst.

Dashing back into the bathroom, I check myself in the mirror: eyes bright, cheeks slightly flushed, slightly smug look because of my panty plan, and I head downstairs. Fifteen minutes. Not bad, Ana.

Christian is standing by the panoramic window, wearing the grey flannel pants that I love, the ones that hang in that unbelievably ***y way off his hips, and of course, a white linen shirt. Doesn't he have any other colorsFrank Sinatra sings softly over the surround sound speakers.

Christian turns and smiles as I enter. He looks at me expectantly.

"Hi," I say softly, and my sphinx-like smile meets his.

"Hi," he says. "How are you feeling?" His eyes are alight with amusement.

"Good, thanks. You?"

"I feel mighty fine, Miss Steele."

He is so waiting for me to say something.

"Frank. I never figured you for a Sinatra fan."

He raises his eyebrows at me, his look speculative.

"Eclectic taste, Miss Steele," he murmurs, and he paces toward me like a panther until he's standing in front of me, his gaze so intense it takes my breath away.

Frank starts crooning... an old song, one of Ray's favorites. 'Witchcraft.' Christian leisurely traces his fingertips down my cheek, and I feel it all the way down there.

"Dance with me," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Taking the remote out of his pocket, he turns up the volume and holds his hand out to me, his gray gaze full of promise and longing and humor. He is totally beguiling, and I'm bewitched. I place my hand in his. He grins lazily down at me and pulls me into his embrace, his arm curling around my waist, and he starts to sway.

I put my free hand on his shoulder and grin up at him, caught in his infectious, playful mood. And he starts to move. Boy can he dance. We cover the floor, from the window to the kitchen and back again, whirling and turning in time to the music. And he makes it so effortless for me to follow.

We glide around the dining table, over to the piano, and backwards and forwards in front of the glass wall, Seattle twinkling outside, a dark and magical mural to our dance, and I can't help my carefree laugh. He grins down at me as the song comes to a close.

"There's no nicer witch than you," he murmurs, then kisses me sweetly. "Well, that's bought some color to your cheeks, Miss Steele. Thank you for the dance. Shall we go and meet my parents?"

"You're welcome, and yes, I can't wait to meet them," I answer breathlessly.

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Oh, yes," I respond sweetly.

"Are you sure?"

I nod as nonchalantly as I can manage under his intense, amused scrutiny. His face splits into a huge grin, and he shakes his head.

"Okay. If that's the way you want to play it, Miss Steele."

He grabs my hand, collects his jacket which is hanging on one of the barstools, and leads me through the foyer to the elevator. Oh, the many faces of Christian Grey. Will I ever be able to understand this mercurial man?

I peek up at him in the elevator. He's enjoying a private joke, a trace of a smile flirting with his beautiful mouth. I fear that it may be at my expense. What was I thinking I'm going to see his parents, and I'm not wearing any underwear. My subconscious gives me an unhelpful I told you so expression. In the relative safety of his apartment, it seemed like a fun, teasing idea. Now, I'm almost outside with No Panties! He peers down at me, and it's there, the charge building between us. The amused look disappears from his face and his expression clouds, his eyes dark... oh my.

The elevator doors open on the ground floor. Christian shakes his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts and gestures for me to exit before him in a most gentlemanly manner.

Who's he kidding He's no gentleman. He has my panties.

Taylor draws up in the large Audi. Christian opens the rear door for me, and I climb inside as elegantly as I can, considering my state of wanton undress. I'm grateful that Kate's plum dress is so clingy and hangs to the top of my knees.

We speed up the I-5, both of us quiet, no doubt inhibited by Taylor's steady presence in the front. Christian's mood is almost tangible and seems to shift, the humor dissipating slowly as we head north. He's brooding, staring out of the window, and I can feel him slipping away from me. What is he thinkingI can't ask him. What can I say in front of Taylor?

"Where did you learn to dance?" I ask tentatively. He turns to gaze at me, his eyes unreadable beneath the intermittent light of the passing street lamps.

"Do you really want to know?" he replies softly.

My heart sinks, and now I don't because I can guess.

"Yes," I murmur, reluctantly.

"Mrs. Robinson was fond of dancing."

Oh, my worst suspicions confirmed. She has taught him well, and the thought depresses me - there's nothing I can teach him. I have no special skills.

"She must have been a good teacher."

"She was," he says softly.

My scalp prickles. Did she have the best of himBefore he became so closedOr did she bring him out of himselfHe has such a fun, playful side. I smile involuntarily as I recall being in his arms as he spun me around his living room, so unexpected, and he has my panties, somewhere.

And then there's the Red Room of Pain. I rub my wrists reflexively - thin strips of plastic will do that to a girl. She taught him all that too or ruined him, depending on one's point of view. Or perhaps he would have found his way there anyway in spite of Mrs. R.

I realize, in that moment, that I hate her. I hope that I never meet her because I will not be responsible for my actions if I do. I can't remember ever feeling this passionately about anyone, especially someone I've never met. Gazing unseeing out of the window, I nurse my irrational anger and jealousy.

My mind drifts back to the afternoon. Given what I understand of his preferences, I think he's been easy on me. Would I do it again I can't even pretend to put up an argument against that. Of course I would, if he asked me - as long as he didn't hurt me and if it's the only way to be with him.

That's the bottom line. I want to be with him. My inner goddess sighs with relief. I reach the conclusion that she rarely uses her brain to think but another vital part of her anatomy, and at the moment, it's a rather exposed part.

"Don't," he murmurs.

I frown and turn to look at him.

"Don't what?" I haven't touched him.

"Over-think things, Anastasia." Reaching out, he grasps my hand, draws it up to his lips, and kisses my knuckles gently. "I had a wonderful afternoon. Thank you."

And he's back with me again. I blink up at him and smile...

Fifty Shades of Grey
Chapter Twenty



Christian bursts through the wooden door of the boathouse and pauses to flick on some lights. Fluorescents ping and buzz in sequence as harsh white light floods the large wooden building. From my upside-down view, I can see an impressive motor launch in the dock floating gently on the dark water, but I only get a brief look before he's carrying me up some wooden stairs to the room above.

He pauses at the doorway and touches another switch - halogens this time, they are softer, on a dimmer - and we're in an attic room with sloping ceilings. It's decorated with a nautical New England theme: navy blues and creams with a dash of red. The furnishings are sparse, just a couple of couches are all I can see.

Christian sets me on my feet on the wooden floor. I don't have time to examine my surroundings - my eyes can't leave him. I am mesmerized... watching him like one would watch a rare and dangerous predator, waiting for him to strike. His breathing is harsh but then he's just carried me across the lawn and up a flight of stairs. Gray eyes blaze with anger, need, and pure unadulterated lust.

Holy ****. I could spontaneously combust from his look alone.

"Please don't hit me," I whisper, pleading.

His brow furrows, his eyes widening. He blinks twice.

"I don't want you to spank me, not here, not now. Please don't."

His mouth drops open slightly in surprise, and beyond brave, I tentatively reach up and run my fingers down his cheek, along the edge of his sideburn, to the stubble on his chin.

It's a curious mixture of soft and prickly. Slowly closing his eyes, he leans his face into my touch, and his breath hitches in his throat. Reaching up with my other hand, I run my fingers into his hair. I love his hair. His soft moan is barely audible, and when he opens his eyes, his look is - wary, like he doesn't understand what I'm doing.

Stepping forward so I am flush against him, I pull gently on his hair, bringing his mouth down to mine, and I kiss him, forcing my tongue between his lips and into his mouth. He groans, and his arms embrace me, pulling me to him. His hands find their way into my hair, and he kisses me back, hard and possessive. His tongue and my tongue twist and turn together, consuming each other. He tastes divine.

He pulls back suddenly, our collective breathing ragged and mingling. My hands drop to his arms and he glares down at me.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispers confused.

"Kissing you."

"You said no."

"What?" No to what?

"At the dinner table, with your legs."

Oh... that's what this is all about.

"But we were at your parents' dining table." I stare up at him, completely bewildered.

"No one's ever said no to me before. And it's so - hot."

His eyes widen slightly, filled with wonder and lust. It's a heady mix. I swallow instinctively. His hand moves down to my behind. He pulls me sharply against him, and I can feel his erection.

Oh my...

"You're mad and turned on because I said no?" I breathe, astonished.

"I'm mad because you never mentioned Georgia to me. I'm mad because you went drinking with that guy who tried to seduce you when you were drunk and who left you when you were ill with an almost complete stranger. What kind of friend does thatAnd I'm mad and aroused because you closed your legs on me." His eyes glitter dangerously, and he's slowly inching up the hem of my dress.

"I want you, and I want you now. And if you're not going to let me spank you - which you deserve - I'm going to **** you on the couch this minute, quickly, for my pleasure, not yours."

My dress is now barely covering my naked behind. He moves suddenly so that his hand is cupping my ***, and one of his fingers sinks slowly into me. His other arm holds me firmly in place around my waist. I suppress my moan.

"This is mine," he whispers aggressively. "All mine. Do you understand?" He eases his finger in and out as he gazes down at me, gauging my reaction, his eyes burning.

"Yes, yours," I breathe as my desire, hot and heavy, surges through my bloodstream, affecting... everything. My nerve endings, my breathing, my heart is pounding, trying to leave my chest, the blood thrumming in my ears.

Abruptly, he moves, doing several things at once. Withdrawing his fingers, leaving me wanting, unzipping his fly, and pushing me down onto the couch so he's lying on top of me.

"Hands on your head," he commands through gritted teeth as he kneels up, forcing my legs wider, and reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket. He takes out a foil packet, gazing down at me, his expression dark, before shrugging off his jacket so it falls to the floor. He rolls the condom down over his impressive length.

I place my hands on my head, and I know it's so I won't touch him. I'm so turned on.

I feel my hips moving already up to meet him - wanting him inside me, like this - rough and hard. Oh... the anticipation.

"We don't have long. This will be quick, and it's for me, not you. Do you understand?

Don't come, or I will spank you," he says through clenched teeth.

Holy crap... how do I stop?

With one swift thrust, he's fully inside me. I groan loudly, gutturally, and revel in the fullness of his possession. He puts his hands on mine on top of my head, his elbows hold my arms out and down, and his legs pinion me. I am trapped. He's everywhere, overwhelming me, almost suffocating. But it's heavenly too, this is my power, this is what I do to him, and it's a hedonistic, triumphant feeling. He moves quickly and furiously inside me, his breathing harsh at my ear, and my body responds, melting around him. I mustn't come. No. But I'm meeting him thrust for thrust, a perfect counterpoint. Abruptly, and all too soon, he rams into me and stills as he finds his release, air hissing through his teeth.

He relaxes momentarily, so I feel his entire, delicious weight on me. I'm not ready to let him go, my body craving relief, but he's so heavy, and in that moment, I can't push against him. All of a sudden, he withdraws, leaving me aching and hungry for more. He glares down at me.

"Don't touch yourself. I want you frustrated. That's what you do to me by not talking to me, by denying me what's mine." His eyes blaze anew, angry again.

I nod, panting. He stands and removes the condom, knotting it at the end, and puts it in his pants pocket. I gaze at him, my breathing still erratic, and involuntarily I squeeze my thighs together, trying to find some relief. Christian does up his fly and runs his hand through his hair as he reaches down to collect his jacket. He turns back to gaze down at me, his expression softer.

"We'd better get back to the house."

I sit up, a little unsteadily, dazed.

"Here. You may put these on."

From his inside pocket, he produces my panties. I don't grin as I take them from him, but inside I know - I've taken a punishment **** but gained a small victory over the panties. My inner goddess nods in agreement, a satisfied grin over her face - You didn't have to ask for them.

"CHRISTIAN!" Mia shouts from the floor below.

He turns and raises his eyebrows at me.

"Just in time. Christ, she can be really irritating."

I scowl back at him, hastily restore my panties to their rightful place, and stand with as much dignity as I can muster in my just-****ed state. Quickly, I attempt to smooth my just-****ed hair.

"Up here, Mia," he calls down. "Well, Miss Steele, I feel better for that - but I still want to spank you," he says softly.

"I don't believe I deserve it Mr. Grey, especially after tolerating your unprovoked attack."

"UnprovokedYou kissed me." He tries his best to look wounded.

I purse my lips.

"It was attack as the best form of defense."

"Defense against what?"

"You and your twitchy palm."

He ****s his head to one side and smiles at me as Mia comes clattering up the stairs.

"But it was tolerable?" he asks softly.

I flush.

"Barely," I whisper, but I can't help my smirk.

"Oh, there you are." She beams at us.

"I was showing Anastasia around." Christian holds his hand out to me, his gray eyes intense.

I put my hand into his, and he gives it a soft squeeze.

"Kate and Elliot are about to leave. Can you believe those twoThey can't keep their hands off each other." Mia feigns disgust and looks from Christian to me. "What have you been doing in here?"

Jeez, she's forward. I blush scarlet.

"Showing Anastasia my rowing trophies," Christian says without missing a beat, completely poker-faced. "Let's go say goodbye to Kate and Elliot."

Rowing trophies He pulls me gently in front of him, and as Mia turns to go, he swats my behind. I gasp in surprise.

"I will do it again, Anastasia, and soon," he threatens quietly close to my ear, then he pulls me into an embrace, my back to his front, and kisses my hair.

Back in the house, Kate and Elliot are making their farewells to Grace and Mr. Grey. Kate hugs me hard.

"I need to speak to you about antagonizing Christian," I hiss quietly in her ear as she embraces me.

"He needs antagonizing,...