Grey
Page 72
“I don’t want to change you.” God forbid. You’re enchanting. “I’d like you to be courteous and to follow the set of rules I’ve given you and not defy me. Simple.” I want you safe.
“But you want to punish me?”
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s what I don’t understand.”
I sigh. “It’s the way I’m made. I need to control you. I need you to behave in a certain way, and if you don’t—” My mind drifts. I find it arousing, Ana. You did, too. Can’t you accept that? Bending you over my knee…feeling your ass beneath my palm. “I love to watch your beautiful alabaster skin pink and warm up under my hands. It turns me on.” Just thinking about it stirs my body.
“So it’s not the pain you’re putting me through?”
Hell.
“A bit, to see if you can take it.” Actually, it’s a lot, but I don’t want to go there right now. If I tell her, she’ll throw me out. “But that’s not the whole reason. It’s the fact that you are mine to do with as I see fit—ultimate control over someone else. And it turns me on. Big-time.”
I must lend her a book or two on being a submissive.
“Look, I’m not explaining myself very well. I’ve never had to before. I’ve not really thought about this in any great depth. I’ve always been with like-minded people.” I pause to check she’s still with me. “And you haven’t answered my question—how did you feel afterward?”
She blinks. “Confused.”
“You were sexually aroused by it, Anastasia.”
You have an inner freak, Ana. I know it.
Closing my eyes, I recall her wet and wanting around my fingers after I spanked her. When I open them, she’s staring at me, pupils dilated, her lips parted…her tongue moistening her top lip. She wants it, too.
Shit. Not again, Grey. Not when she’s like this.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warn, my voice gruff.
Her eyebrows rise in surprise.
You know what I mean, Ana. “I don’t have any condoms, and you know, you’re upset. Contrary to what your roommate believes, I’m not a priapic monster. So, you felt confused?”
She remains mute.
Jesus.
“You have no problem being honest with me in print. Your e-mails always tell me exactly how you feel. Why can’t you do that in conversation? Do I intimidate you that much?”
Her fingers fiddle with the quilt.
“You beguile me, Christian. Completely overwhelm me. I feel like Icarus, flying too close to the sun.” Her voice is quiet, but brimming with emotion.
Her confession floors me like a swift kick to the head.
“Well, I think you’ve got that the wrong way round,” I whisper.
“What?”
“Oh, Anastasia, you’ve bewitched me. Isn’t it obvious?”
That’s why I’m here.
She’s not convinced.
Ana. Believe me. “You’ve still not answered my question. Write me an e-mail, please. But right now, I’d really like to sleep. Can I stay?”
“Do you want to stay?”
“You wanted me here.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” she persists.
Impossible woman. I just drove like a maniac to get here after your fucking message. There’s your answer.
I grumble that I’ll respond by e-mail. I’m not talking about this. This conversation is over.
Before I can change my mind and head back to The Heathman, I stand, empty my pockets, remove my shoes and socks, and strip off my pants. Slinging my jacket over her chair, I climb into her bed.
“Lie down,” I growl.
She complies, and I lean up on my elbow, looking at her. “If you are going to cry, cry in front of me. I need to know.”
“Do you want me to cry?”
“Not particularly. I just want to know how you’re feeling. I don’t want you slipping through my fingers. Switch the light off. It’s late, and we both have to work tomorrow.”
She does.
“Lie on your side, facing away from me.”
I don’t want you to touch me.
The bed dips as she moves, and I wrap my arm around her and gently pull her against me.
“Sleep, baby,” I murmur, and breathe in the scent of her hair.
Damn, she smells good.
Lelliot is running through the grass.
He’s laughing. Loud.
I am running after him. My face is smiling.
I am going to catch him.
There are small trees around us.
Baby trees covered in apples.
Mommy lets me pick the apples.
Mommy lets me eat the apples.
I put the apples in my pockets. Every pocket.
I hide them in my sweater.
Apples taste good.
Apples smell good.
Mommy makes apple pie.
Apple pie and ice cream.
They make my tummy smile.
I hide the apples in my shoes. I hide them under my pillow.
There is a man. Grandpa Trev-Trev-yan.
His name is hard. Hard to say in my head.
He has another name. Thee-o-door.
Theodore is a funny name.
The baby trees are his trees.
At his house. Where he lives.
He is Mommy’s daddy.
He has a loud laugh. And big shoulders.
And happy eyes.
He runs to catch Lelliot and me.
You can’t catch me.
Lelliot runs. He laughs.
I run. I catch him.
And we fall down in the grass.
He is laughing.
The apples sparkle in the sun.
And they taste so good.
Yummy.
And they smell so good.
So, so good.
The apples fall.
They fall on me.
I twist and they hit my back. Stinging me.
Ow.
But the scent is still there, sweet and crisp.
Ana.
When I open my eyes I’m wrapped around her, our limbs entwined. She’s regarding me with a tender smile. Her face is no longer blotchy and puffy; she looks radiant. My cock agrees, and stiffens in greeting.
“Good morning.” I’m disoriented. “Jesus, even in my sleep I’m drawn to you.” Stretching out, I disentangle myself from her and scan my surroundings. Of course, we’re in her bedroom. Her eyes glow with eager curiosity as my cock presses against her. “Hmm, this has possibilities, but I think we should wait until Sunday.” I nuzzle her just below her ear and lean up on my elbow.
“But you want to punish me?”
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s what I don’t understand.”
I sigh. “It’s the way I’m made. I need to control you. I need you to behave in a certain way, and if you don’t—” My mind drifts. I find it arousing, Ana. You did, too. Can’t you accept that? Bending you over my knee…feeling your ass beneath my palm. “I love to watch your beautiful alabaster skin pink and warm up under my hands. It turns me on.” Just thinking about it stirs my body.
“So it’s not the pain you’re putting me through?”
Hell.
“A bit, to see if you can take it.” Actually, it’s a lot, but I don’t want to go there right now. If I tell her, she’ll throw me out. “But that’s not the whole reason. It’s the fact that you are mine to do with as I see fit—ultimate control over someone else. And it turns me on. Big-time.”
I must lend her a book or two on being a submissive.
“Look, I’m not explaining myself very well. I’ve never had to before. I’ve not really thought about this in any great depth. I’ve always been with like-minded people.” I pause to check she’s still with me. “And you haven’t answered my question—how did you feel afterward?”
She blinks. “Confused.”
“You were sexually aroused by it, Anastasia.”
You have an inner freak, Ana. I know it.
Closing my eyes, I recall her wet and wanting around my fingers after I spanked her. When I open them, she’s staring at me, pupils dilated, her lips parted…her tongue moistening her top lip. She wants it, too.
Shit. Not again, Grey. Not when she’s like this.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warn, my voice gruff.
Her eyebrows rise in surprise.
You know what I mean, Ana. “I don’t have any condoms, and you know, you’re upset. Contrary to what your roommate believes, I’m not a priapic monster. So, you felt confused?”
She remains mute.
Jesus.
“You have no problem being honest with me in print. Your e-mails always tell me exactly how you feel. Why can’t you do that in conversation? Do I intimidate you that much?”
Her fingers fiddle with the quilt.
“You beguile me, Christian. Completely overwhelm me. I feel like Icarus, flying too close to the sun.” Her voice is quiet, but brimming with emotion.
Her confession floors me like a swift kick to the head.
“Well, I think you’ve got that the wrong way round,” I whisper.
“What?”
“Oh, Anastasia, you’ve bewitched me. Isn’t it obvious?”
That’s why I’m here.
She’s not convinced.
Ana. Believe me. “You’ve still not answered my question. Write me an e-mail, please. But right now, I’d really like to sleep. Can I stay?”
“Do you want to stay?”
“You wanted me here.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” she persists.
Impossible woman. I just drove like a maniac to get here after your fucking message. There’s your answer.
I grumble that I’ll respond by e-mail. I’m not talking about this. This conversation is over.
Before I can change my mind and head back to The Heathman, I stand, empty my pockets, remove my shoes and socks, and strip off my pants. Slinging my jacket over her chair, I climb into her bed.
“Lie down,” I growl.
She complies, and I lean up on my elbow, looking at her. “If you are going to cry, cry in front of me. I need to know.”
“Do you want me to cry?”
“Not particularly. I just want to know how you’re feeling. I don’t want you slipping through my fingers. Switch the light off. It’s late, and we both have to work tomorrow.”
She does.
“Lie on your side, facing away from me.”
I don’t want you to touch me.
The bed dips as she moves, and I wrap my arm around her and gently pull her against me.
“Sleep, baby,” I murmur, and breathe in the scent of her hair.
Damn, she smells good.
Lelliot is running through the grass.
He’s laughing. Loud.
I am running after him. My face is smiling.
I am going to catch him.
There are small trees around us.
Baby trees covered in apples.
Mommy lets me pick the apples.
Mommy lets me eat the apples.
I put the apples in my pockets. Every pocket.
I hide them in my sweater.
Apples taste good.
Apples smell good.
Mommy makes apple pie.
Apple pie and ice cream.
They make my tummy smile.
I hide the apples in my shoes. I hide them under my pillow.
There is a man. Grandpa Trev-Trev-yan.
His name is hard. Hard to say in my head.
He has another name. Thee-o-door.
Theodore is a funny name.
The baby trees are his trees.
At his house. Where he lives.
He is Mommy’s daddy.
He has a loud laugh. And big shoulders.
And happy eyes.
He runs to catch Lelliot and me.
You can’t catch me.
Lelliot runs. He laughs.
I run. I catch him.
And we fall down in the grass.
He is laughing.
The apples sparkle in the sun.
And they taste so good.
Yummy.
And they smell so good.
So, so good.
The apples fall.
They fall on me.
I twist and they hit my back. Stinging me.
Ow.
But the scent is still there, sweet and crisp.
Ana.
When I open my eyes I’m wrapped around her, our limbs entwined. She’s regarding me with a tender smile. Her face is no longer blotchy and puffy; she looks radiant. My cock agrees, and stiffens in greeting.
“Good morning.” I’m disoriented. “Jesus, even in my sleep I’m drawn to you.” Stretching out, I disentangle myself from her and scan my surroundings. Of course, we’re in her bedroom. Her eyes glow with eager curiosity as my cock presses against her. “Hmm, this has possibilities, but I think we should wait until Sunday.” I nuzzle her just below her ear and lean up on my elbow.
