Grey
Page 110
“What does that mean? Anyone who didn’t just automatically sign your paperwork, no questions asked?”
I shake my head. No. “I need advice.”
“And you take advice from Mrs. Pedo?” she snaps.
“Anastasia—enough,” I almost shout. “Or I’ll put you across my knee. I have no sexual or romantic interest in her whatsoever. She’s a dear, valued friend and a business partner. That’s all. We have a past, a shared history, which was monumentally beneficial for me, though it fucked up her marriage—but that side of our relationship is over.”
She squares her shoulders. “And your parents never found out?”
“No,” I growl. “I’ve told you this.”
She regards me warily, and I think she knows she’s pushed me to my limit.
“Are you done?” I ask.
“For now.”
Thank God for that. She wasn’t lying when she told me there was much she wanted to say. But we’re not talking about what I want to talk about. I need to know where I stand. If our arrangement has a chance.
Seize the day, Grey.
“Right—my turn. You haven’t responded to my e-mail.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear, then shakes her head. “I was going to respond. But now you’re here.”
“You’d rather I wasn’t?” I hold my breath.
“No, I’m pleased,” she says.
“Good. I’m pleased I’m here, too—in spite of your interrogation. So, while it’s acceptable to grill me, you think you can claim some kind of diplomatic immunity just because I’ve flown all this way to see you? I’m not buying it, Miss Steele. I want to know how you feel.”
Her brows knit together. “I told you. I am pleased you’re here. Thank you for coming all this way.” She sounds sincere.
“It’s my pleasure.” I lean down and kiss her, and she opens like a flower, offering and wanting more. I pull back. “No. I think I want some answers first before we do any more.”
She sighs, her wary look returning. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, how you feel about our would-be arrangement, for starters.”
She makes a moue with her mouth, as if her response will be unpalatable.
Oh dear.
“I don’t think I can do it for an extended period of time. A whole weekend being someone I’m not.” She looks down, away from me.
That’s not a “no.” What’s more, I think she’s right.
Grasping her chin, I tilt her head up so I can see her eyes.
“No, I don’t think you could, either.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Yes, but in a good way.” I kiss her again. “You’re not a great submissive.”
Her mouth drops open. Is she feigning offense? And then she laughs, a sweet, infectious laugh, and I know she’s not offended.
“Maybe I don’t have a good teacher.”
Good point well made, Miss Steele.
I laugh, too. “Maybe. Perhaps I should be stricter with you.” I search her face. “Was it that bad when I spanked you the first time?”
“No, not really,” she says, her cheeks flushing a little.
“It’s more the idea of it?” I ask, pressing her further.
“I suppose. Feeling pleasure when one isn’t supposed to.”
“I remember feeling the same. Takes a while to get your head around it.”
We are finally having the discussion. “You can always use the safe word, Anastasia. Don’t forget that. And, as long as you follow the rules, which fulfill a deep need in me for control and to keep you safe, then perhaps we can find a way forward.”
“Why do you need to control me?”
“Because it satisfies a need in me that wasn’t met in my formative years.”
“So it’s a form of therapy?”
“I’ve not thought of it like that, but yes, I suppose it is.”
She nods. “But, here’s the thing—one moment you say ‘don’t defy me,’ the next you say you like to be challenged. That’s a very fine line to tread successfully.”
“I can see that. But you seem to be doing fine so far.”
“But at what personal cost? I’m tied up in knots here.”
“I like you tied up in knots.”
“That’s not what I meant!” She dashes her hand through the water, soaking me.
“Did you just splash me?”
“Yes,” she says.
“Oh, Miss Steele.” I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her onto my lap, slopping water onto the floor once again. “I think we’ve done enough talking for now.”
I hold her head between my hands and kiss her, my tongue teasing her lips apart, then delving into her mouth, dominating her. She runs her fingers through my hair, returning my kiss, twisting her tongue around mine. Angling her head with one hand, I shift her with the other so she’s astride me.
I pull back to take a breath. Her eyes are dark and carnal, her lust plain to see. I pull her wrists behind her back and grasp them in one hand. “I’m going to have you now,” I declare, and I lift her so that my erection is poised beneath her. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she breathes, and slowly I lower her onto me, watching her expression as I fill her. She moans and closes her eyes, thrusting her breasts forward into my face.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
I flex my hips, lifting her, burying myself even deeper inside her, and lean forward so our foreheads are touching.
She feels so good.
“Please, let my hands go,” she whispers.
I open my eyes and see her mouth open as she drags air into her lungs.
“Don’t touch me,” I plead, and release her hands and grasp her hips. She grabs the edge of the bath and slowly starts to take me. Up. Then down. Oh so slowly. She opens her eyes to find mine on her face. Watching her. Riding me. Leaning down, she kisses me, her tongue invading my mouth. I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation.
Oh yes, Ana.
Her fingers are in my hair, tugging and pulling as she kisses me, her wet tongue entwining with mine as she moves. I hold her hips and start lifting her higher and faster, vaguely aware that water is cascading out of the bath.
But I don’t care. I want her. Like this.
I shake my head. No. “I need advice.”
“And you take advice from Mrs. Pedo?” she snaps.
“Anastasia—enough,” I almost shout. “Or I’ll put you across my knee. I have no sexual or romantic interest in her whatsoever. She’s a dear, valued friend and a business partner. That’s all. We have a past, a shared history, which was monumentally beneficial for me, though it fucked up her marriage—but that side of our relationship is over.”
She squares her shoulders. “And your parents never found out?”
“No,” I growl. “I’ve told you this.”
She regards me warily, and I think she knows she’s pushed me to my limit.
“Are you done?” I ask.
“For now.”
Thank God for that. She wasn’t lying when she told me there was much she wanted to say. But we’re not talking about what I want to talk about. I need to know where I stand. If our arrangement has a chance.
Seize the day, Grey.
“Right—my turn. You haven’t responded to my e-mail.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear, then shakes her head. “I was going to respond. But now you’re here.”
“You’d rather I wasn’t?” I hold my breath.
“No, I’m pleased,” she says.
“Good. I’m pleased I’m here, too—in spite of your interrogation. So, while it’s acceptable to grill me, you think you can claim some kind of diplomatic immunity just because I’ve flown all this way to see you? I’m not buying it, Miss Steele. I want to know how you feel.”
Her brows knit together. “I told you. I am pleased you’re here. Thank you for coming all this way.” She sounds sincere.
“It’s my pleasure.” I lean down and kiss her, and she opens like a flower, offering and wanting more. I pull back. “No. I think I want some answers first before we do any more.”
She sighs, her wary look returning. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, how you feel about our would-be arrangement, for starters.”
She makes a moue with her mouth, as if her response will be unpalatable.
Oh dear.
“I don’t think I can do it for an extended period of time. A whole weekend being someone I’m not.” She looks down, away from me.
That’s not a “no.” What’s more, I think she’s right.
Grasping her chin, I tilt her head up so I can see her eyes.
“No, I don’t think you could, either.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Yes, but in a good way.” I kiss her again. “You’re not a great submissive.”
Her mouth drops open. Is she feigning offense? And then she laughs, a sweet, infectious laugh, and I know she’s not offended.
“Maybe I don’t have a good teacher.”
Good point well made, Miss Steele.
I laugh, too. “Maybe. Perhaps I should be stricter with you.” I search her face. “Was it that bad when I spanked you the first time?”
“No, not really,” she says, her cheeks flushing a little.
“It’s more the idea of it?” I ask, pressing her further.
“I suppose. Feeling pleasure when one isn’t supposed to.”
“I remember feeling the same. Takes a while to get your head around it.”
We are finally having the discussion. “You can always use the safe word, Anastasia. Don’t forget that. And, as long as you follow the rules, which fulfill a deep need in me for control and to keep you safe, then perhaps we can find a way forward.”
“Why do you need to control me?”
“Because it satisfies a need in me that wasn’t met in my formative years.”
“So it’s a form of therapy?”
“I’ve not thought of it like that, but yes, I suppose it is.”
She nods. “But, here’s the thing—one moment you say ‘don’t defy me,’ the next you say you like to be challenged. That’s a very fine line to tread successfully.”
“I can see that. But you seem to be doing fine so far.”
“But at what personal cost? I’m tied up in knots here.”
“I like you tied up in knots.”
“That’s not what I meant!” She dashes her hand through the water, soaking me.
“Did you just splash me?”
“Yes,” she says.
“Oh, Miss Steele.” I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her onto my lap, slopping water onto the floor once again. “I think we’ve done enough talking for now.”
I hold her head between my hands and kiss her, my tongue teasing her lips apart, then delving into her mouth, dominating her. She runs her fingers through my hair, returning my kiss, twisting her tongue around mine. Angling her head with one hand, I shift her with the other so she’s astride me.
I pull back to take a breath. Her eyes are dark and carnal, her lust plain to see. I pull her wrists behind her back and grasp them in one hand. “I’m going to have you now,” I declare, and I lift her so that my erection is poised beneath her. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she breathes, and slowly I lower her onto me, watching her expression as I fill her. She moans and closes her eyes, thrusting her breasts forward into my face.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
I flex my hips, lifting her, burying myself even deeper inside her, and lean forward so our foreheads are touching.
She feels so good.
“Please, let my hands go,” she whispers.
I open my eyes and see her mouth open as she drags air into her lungs.
“Don’t touch me,” I plead, and release her hands and grasp her hips. She grabs the edge of the bath and slowly starts to take me. Up. Then down. Oh so slowly. She opens her eyes to find mine on her face. Watching her. Riding me. Leaning down, she kisses me, her tongue invading my mouth. I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation.
Oh yes, Ana.
Her fingers are in my hair, tugging and pulling as she kisses me, her wet tongue entwining with mine as she moves. I hold her hips and start lifting her higher and faster, vaguely aware that water is cascading out of the bath.
But I don’t care. I want her. Like this.
