Grey
Page 73
She looks flushed. Warm.
“You’re very hot,” she scolds.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I grin and flex my hips, teasing her with my favorite body part. She tries a disapproving look but fails miserably—she’s highly amused. Leaning down, I kiss her.
“Sleep well?” I ask.
She nods.
“So did I.”
I’m surprised. I did sleep really well. I tell her so. No nightmares. Only dreams…
“What’s the time?” I ask.
“It’s seven thirty.”
“Seven thirty? Shit!” I leap out of bed and start dragging on my jeans. She watches me dress, trying to suppress her laughter.
“You are such a bad influence on me,” I complain. “I have a meeting. I have to go—I have to be in Portland at eight. Are you smirking at me?”
“Yes,” she admits.
“I’m late. I don’t do late. Another first, Miss Steele.” I tug on my jacket, reach down and take her head in both my hands. “Sunday,” I whisper, and kiss her. I grab my watch, wallet, and money from her bedside table, pick up my shoes, and head for the door. “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 e-mail you a time.”
Leaving her a little dazed, I rush out of the apartment and to my car.
I put on my shoes while I’m driving. Once they’re on I open up the throttle and weave in and out of the traffic heading to Portland. I’ll have to meet Eamon Kavanagh’s associates in my jeans. Thankfully this meeting is via WebEx.
I burst into my room at The Heathman and switch on my laptop: 8:02. Shit. I haven’t shaved, but I smooth my hair and straighten my jacket, and hope they don’t notice I’m only wearing a T-shirt underneath.
Who gives a fuck, anyway?
I open WebEx and Andrea is online, waiting for me. “Good morning, Mr. Grey. Mr. Kavanagh is delayed, but they’re ready for you in New York and here in Seattle.”
“Fred and Barney?” My Flintstones. I smirk at the thought.
“Yes, sir. And Ros, too.”
“Great. Thanks.” I’m breathless. I catch Andrea’s fleeting puzzled look and choose to ignore it. “Can you order me a toasted bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon and a coffee, black. Have it sent to my suite ASAP.”
“Yes, Mr. Grey.” She posts the link to the conference in the window. “Here you go, sir,” she says. I click the link—and I’m in.
“Good morning.” There are two executives seated at a conference table in New York, both gazing expectantly at the camera. Ros, Barney, and Fred are each in separate windows.
To business. Kavanagh says he wants to upgrade his media network to high-speed fiber-optic connections. GEH can do it for them—but are they serious about buying in? It’s a big investment up front, but a great payoff down the line.
While we’re talking an e-mail notification with an arresting title from Ana floats onto the top right corner of my screen. As quietly as I can, I click on it.
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.
A tad overdramatic, Miss Steele. You could have said no.
Well, during the whole alarming process, I felt demeaned, debased, and abused.
If you felt that way, why didn’t you stop me? You have safe words.
And much to my mortification, you’re right, I was aroused, and that was unexpected.
I know. Good. You’ve finally acknowledged it.
As you are well aware, all things sexual 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 afterward. 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.
As did I, Ana, as did I…
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
Kavanagh joins the conversation, apologizing for his tardiness. While the introductions are made and Fred talks about what GEH can offer, I type out my reply to Ana. I hope to those on the other side of the computer screen it looks like I’m taking notes.
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, and 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 to embrace these feelings, deal with them, for me? That’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 consenting 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 M&A is not nearly as stimulating as you are, Miss Steele.
Christian Grey
“You’re very hot,” she scolds.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I grin and flex my hips, teasing her with my favorite body part. She tries a disapproving look but fails miserably—she’s highly amused. Leaning down, I kiss her.
“Sleep well?” I ask.
She nods.
“So did I.”
I’m surprised. I did sleep really well. I tell her so. No nightmares. Only dreams…
“What’s the time?” I ask.
“It’s seven thirty.”
“Seven thirty? Shit!” I leap out of bed and start dragging on my jeans. She watches me dress, trying to suppress her laughter.
“You are such a bad influence on me,” I complain. “I have a meeting. I have to go—I have to be in Portland at eight. Are you smirking at me?”
“Yes,” she admits.
“I’m late. I don’t do late. Another first, Miss Steele.” I tug on my jacket, reach down and take her head in both my hands. “Sunday,” I whisper, and kiss her. I grab my watch, wallet, and money from her bedside table, pick up my shoes, and head for the door. “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 e-mail you a time.”
Leaving her a little dazed, I rush out of the apartment and to my car.
I put on my shoes while I’m driving. Once they’re on I open up the throttle and weave in and out of the traffic heading to Portland. I’ll have to meet Eamon Kavanagh’s associates in my jeans. Thankfully this meeting is via WebEx.
I burst into my room at The Heathman and switch on my laptop: 8:02. Shit. I haven’t shaved, but I smooth my hair and straighten my jacket, and hope they don’t notice I’m only wearing a T-shirt underneath.
Who gives a fuck, anyway?
I open WebEx and Andrea is online, waiting for me. “Good morning, Mr. Grey. Mr. Kavanagh is delayed, but they’re ready for you in New York and here in Seattle.”
“Fred and Barney?” My Flintstones. I smirk at the thought.
“Yes, sir. And Ros, too.”
“Great. Thanks.” I’m breathless. I catch Andrea’s fleeting puzzled look and choose to ignore it. “Can you order me a toasted bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon and a coffee, black. Have it sent to my suite ASAP.”
“Yes, Mr. Grey.” She posts the link to the conference in the window. “Here you go, sir,” she says. I click the link—and I’m in.
“Good morning.” There are two executives seated at a conference table in New York, both gazing expectantly at the camera. Ros, Barney, and Fred are each in separate windows.
To business. Kavanagh says he wants to upgrade his media network to high-speed fiber-optic connections. GEH can do it for them—but are they serious about buying in? It’s a big investment up front, but a great payoff down the line.
While we’re talking an e-mail notification with an arresting title from Ana floats onto the top right corner of my screen. As quietly as I can, I click on it.
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.
A tad overdramatic, Miss Steele. You could have said no.
Well, during the whole alarming process, I felt demeaned, debased, and abused.
If you felt that way, why didn’t you stop me? You have safe words.
And much to my mortification, you’re right, I was aroused, and that was unexpected.
I know. Good. You’ve finally acknowledged it.
As you are well aware, all things sexual 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 afterward. 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.
As did I, Ana, as did I…
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
Kavanagh joins the conversation, apologizing for his tardiness. While the introductions are made and Fred talks about what GEH can offer, I type out my reply to Ana. I hope to those on the other side of the computer screen it looks like I’m taking notes.
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, and 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 to embrace these feelings, deal with them, for me? That’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 consenting 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 M&A is not nearly as stimulating as you are, Miss Steele.
Christian Grey
