Grey
Page 129
She wants to do this now?
“I’ll fetch them for you.”
In my study I fire up my computer and print out the rules, wondering why we are discussing this at five in the morning.
She’s at the sink, drinking a glass of water, when I return with the printout. I sit down on a stool and wait, watching her. Her back is stiff and tense; this does not bode well. When she turns around I slide the sheet of paper toward her across the kitchen island.
“Here you go.”
She scans the rules quickly. “So the obedience thing still stands?”
“Oh yes.”
She shakes her head, and an ironic smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as her eyes dart to the heavens.
Oh joy.
My spirits suddenly lift.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Anastasia?”
“Possibly. Depends what your reaction is.” She looks wary and amused at once.
“Same as always.” If she’ll let me…
She swallows and her eyes widen with anticipation. “So…”
“Yes?”
“You want to spank me now?”
“Yes. And I will.”
“Oh, really, Mr. Grey?” She folds her arms, her chin thrust upward in a challenge.
“Are you going to stop me?”
“You’re going to have to catch me first.” She wears a coquettish smile, which addresses my dick directly.
She wants to play.
I ease myself off the stool, watching her carefully. “Oh, really, Miss Steele?” The air almost crackles between us.
Which way will she run?
Her eyes are on mine, brimming with excitement. Her teeth tease her lower lip.
“And you’re biting your lip.” Is she doing it on purpose? I move slowly to my left.
“You wouldn’t,” she taunts. “After all, you roll your eyes.” With her eyes fixed on me, she, too, moves to her left.
“Yes, but you’ve just raised the bar on the excitement stakes with this game.”
“I’m quite fast, you know,” she teases.
“So am I.”
How does she make everything so thrilling?
“Are you going to come quietly?”
“Do I ever?” She grins, taking the bait.
“Miss Steele, what do you mean?” I stalk her around the kitchen island. “It’ll be worse for you if I have to come and get you.”
“That’s only if you catch me, Christian. And right now, I have no intention of letting you catch me.”
Is she serious?
“Anastasia, you may fall and hurt yourself. Which will put you in direct contravention of rule number seven, now six.”
“I have been in danger since I met you, Mr. Grey, rules or no rules.”
“Yes, you have.”
Perhaps this is not a game. Is she trying to tell me something? She hesitates, and I make a sudden lunge to grab her. She squeals and dashes around the island, to the relative safety of the opposite side of the dining table. With her lips parted, her expression both wary and daring at once, the bathrobe slips off one shoulder. She looks hot. Really fucking hot.
Slowly I prowl toward her, and she backs away.
“You certainly know how to distract a man, Anastasia.”
“We aim to please, Mr. Grey. Distract you from what?”
“Life. The universe.” Ex-subs who’ve gone missing. Work. Our arrangement. Everything.
“You did seem very preoccupied as you were playing.”
She’s not backing down. I stop and fold my arms, reassessing my strategy. “We can do this all day, baby, but I will get you, and it will just be worse for you when I do.”
“No, you won’t,” she says, with absolute certainty.
I frown. “Anyone would think you didn’t want me to catch you.”
“I don’t. That’s the point. I feel about punishment the way you feel about me touching you.”
And from nowhere the darkness crawls over me, shrouding my skin, leaving an icy trail of despair in its wake.
No. No. I can’t bear to be touched. Ever.
“That’s how you feel?” It’s like she’s touched me, her nails leaving white tracks over my chest.
She blinks several times, assessing my reaction, and when she speaks her voice is gentle. “No. It doesn’t affect me quite as much as that, but it gives you an idea.” Her expression is anxious.
Well, hell! This shines a whole different light on our relationship. “Oh,” I mutter, because I can’t think of anything else to say.
She takes a deep breath and approaches me, and when she’s standing in front of me she looks up, her eyes burning with apprehension.
“You hate it that much?” I whisper.
This is it. We are really incompatible.
No. I don’t want to believe that.
“Well…no,” she says, and relief washes through me. “No,” she continues. “I feel ambivalent about it. I don’t like it, but I don’t hate it.”
“But last night, in the playroom, you—”
“I do it for you, Christian, because you need it. I don’t. You didn’t hurt me last night. That was in a different context, and I can rationalize that internally, and I trust you. But when you want to punish me, I worry that you’ll hurt me.”
Fuck. Tell her.
It’s truth-or-dare time, Grey.
“I want to hurt you. But not beyond anything that you couldn’t take.” I’d never go too far.
“Why?”
“I just need it,” I whisper. “I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Won’t.”
“So you know why?”
“Yes.”
“But you won’t tell me.”
“If I do, you will run screaming from this room, and you’ll never want to return. I can’t risk that, Anastasia.”
“You want me to stay.”
“More than you know. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
I can no longer stomach the distance between us. I grab her to stop her from running, and I pull her into my arms, my lips seeking hers. She answers my need, her mouth molding to mine, kissing me back with the same passion and hope and longing. The hovering darkness recedes and I find my solace.
“Don’t leave me,” I whisper against her lips. “You said you wouldn’t leave me, and you begged me not to leave you, in your sleep.”
“I’ll fetch them for you.”
In my study I fire up my computer and print out the rules, wondering why we are discussing this at five in the morning.
She’s at the sink, drinking a glass of water, when I return with the printout. I sit down on a stool and wait, watching her. Her back is stiff and tense; this does not bode well. When she turns around I slide the sheet of paper toward her across the kitchen island.
“Here you go.”
She scans the rules quickly. “So the obedience thing still stands?”
“Oh yes.”
She shakes her head, and an ironic smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as her eyes dart to the heavens.
Oh joy.
My spirits suddenly lift.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Anastasia?”
“Possibly. Depends what your reaction is.” She looks wary and amused at once.
“Same as always.” If she’ll let me…
She swallows and her eyes widen with anticipation. “So…”
“Yes?”
“You want to spank me now?”
“Yes. And I will.”
“Oh, really, Mr. Grey?” She folds her arms, her chin thrust upward in a challenge.
“Are you going to stop me?”
“You’re going to have to catch me first.” She wears a coquettish smile, which addresses my dick directly.
She wants to play.
I ease myself off the stool, watching her carefully. “Oh, really, Miss Steele?” The air almost crackles between us.
Which way will she run?
Her eyes are on mine, brimming with excitement. Her teeth tease her lower lip.
“And you’re biting your lip.” Is she doing it on purpose? I move slowly to my left.
“You wouldn’t,” she taunts. “After all, you roll your eyes.” With her eyes fixed on me, she, too, moves to her left.
“Yes, but you’ve just raised the bar on the excitement stakes with this game.”
“I’m quite fast, you know,” she teases.
“So am I.”
How does she make everything so thrilling?
“Are you going to come quietly?”
“Do I ever?” She grins, taking the bait.
“Miss Steele, what do you mean?” I stalk her around the kitchen island. “It’ll be worse for you if I have to come and get you.”
“That’s only if you catch me, Christian. And right now, I have no intention of letting you catch me.”
Is she serious?
“Anastasia, you may fall and hurt yourself. Which will put you in direct contravention of rule number seven, now six.”
“I have been in danger since I met you, Mr. Grey, rules or no rules.”
“Yes, you have.”
Perhaps this is not a game. Is she trying to tell me something? She hesitates, and I make a sudden lunge to grab her. She squeals and dashes around the island, to the relative safety of the opposite side of the dining table. With her lips parted, her expression both wary and daring at once, the bathrobe slips off one shoulder. She looks hot. Really fucking hot.
Slowly I prowl toward her, and she backs away.
“You certainly know how to distract a man, Anastasia.”
“We aim to please, Mr. Grey. Distract you from what?”
“Life. The universe.” Ex-subs who’ve gone missing. Work. Our arrangement. Everything.
“You did seem very preoccupied as you were playing.”
She’s not backing down. I stop and fold my arms, reassessing my strategy. “We can do this all day, baby, but I will get you, and it will just be worse for you when I do.”
“No, you won’t,” she says, with absolute certainty.
I frown. “Anyone would think you didn’t want me to catch you.”
“I don’t. That’s the point. I feel about punishment the way you feel about me touching you.”
And from nowhere the darkness crawls over me, shrouding my skin, leaving an icy trail of despair in its wake.
No. No. I can’t bear to be touched. Ever.
“That’s how you feel?” It’s like she’s touched me, her nails leaving white tracks over my chest.
She blinks several times, assessing my reaction, and when she speaks her voice is gentle. “No. It doesn’t affect me quite as much as that, but it gives you an idea.” Her expression is anxious.
Well, hell! This shines a whole different light on our relationship. “Oh,” I mutter, because I can’t think of anything else to say.
She takes a deep breath and approaches me, and when she’s standing in front of me she looks up, her eyes burning with apprehension.
“You hate it that much?” I whisper.
This is it. We are really incompatible.
No. I don’t want to believe that.
“Well…no,” she says, and relief washes through me. “No,” she continues. “I feel ambivalent about it. I don’t like it, but I don’t hate it.”
“But last night, in the playroom, you—”
“I do it for you, Christian, because you need it. I don’t. You didn’t hurt me last night. That was in a different context, and I can rationalize that internally, and I trust you. But when you want to punish me, I worry that you’ll hurt me.”
Fuck. Tell her.
It’s truth-or-dare time, Grey.
“I want to hurt you. But not beyond anything that you couldn’t take.” I’d never go too far.
“Why?”
“I just need it,” I whisper. “I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Won’t.”
“So you know why?”
“Yes.”
“But you won’t tell me.”
“If I do, you will run screaming from this room, and you’ll never want to return. I can’t risk that, Anastasia.”
“You want me to stay.”
“More than you know. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
I can no longer stomach the distance between us. I grab her to stop her from running, and I pull her into my arms, my lips seeking hers. She answers my need, her mouth molding to mine, kissing me back with the same passion and hope and longing. The hovering darkness recedes and I find my solace.
“Don’t leave me,” I whisper against her lips. “You said you wouldn’t leave me, and you begged me not to leave you, in your sleep.”
