Grey Page 10

  Oh...her smart mouth.

  "As you wish, Miss Steele." And I hide my smirk.

  "How many women?" she asks, and she pops a grape into that mouth.

  "Fifteen." I have to look away.

  "For long periods of time?"

  "Some of them, yes."

  "Have you ever hurt anyone?"

  "Yes."

  "Badly?"

  "No." Dawn was fine, if a little shaken by the experience. And if I'm honest, so was I.

  "Will you hurt me?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Physically, will you hurt me?"

  Only what you can take.

  "I will punish you when you require it, and it will be painful."

  For example, when you get drunk and put yourself at risk.

  "Have you ever been beaten?" she asks.

  "Yes."

  Many, many times. Elena was devilishly handy with a cane. It's the only touch I could tolerate.

  Her eyes widen and she puts the uneaten grapes on her plate and takes another sip of wine. Her lack of appetite is irritating and is affecting mine. Perhaps I should just bite the bullet and show her the rules.

  "Let's discuss this in my study. I want to show you something."

  She follows me and sits in the leather chair in front of my desk as I lean against it, arms folded.

  This is what she wants to know. It's a blessing that she's curious--she hasn't run yet. From the contract laid out on my desk I take one of the pages and hand it to her. "These are the rules. They may be subject to change. They form part of the contract, which you can also have. Read these rules and let's discuss."

  Her eyes scan the page. "Hard limits?" she asks.

  "Yes. What you won't do, what I won't do, we need to specify in our agreement."

  "I'm not sure about accepting money for clothes. It feels wrong."

  "I want to lavish money on you. Let me buy you some clothes. I may need you to accompany me to functions."

  Grey, what are you saying? This would be a first. "And I want you dressed well. I'm sure your salary, when you do get a job, won't cover the kind of clothes I'd like you to wear."

  "I don't have to wear them when I'm not with you?"

  "No."

  "Okay. I don't want to exercise four times a week."

  "Anastasia, I need you supple, strong, and with stamina. Trust me, you need to exercise."

  "But surely not four times a week. How about three?"

  "I want you to do four."

  "I thought this was a negotiation?"

  Again, she's disarming, calling me out on my shit. "Okay, Miss Steele, another point well made. How about an hour on three days and one day half an hour?"

  "Three days, three hours. I get the impression you're going to keep me exercised when I'm here."

  Oh, I hope so.

  "Yes, I am. Okay, agreed. Are you sure you don't want to intern at my company? You're a good negotiator."

  "No, I don't think that's a good idea."

  Of course she's right. And it's my number-one rule: never fuck the staff.

  "So, limits. These are mine." I hand her the list.

  This is it, shit-or-bust time. I know my limits by heart, and mentally tick off the list as I watch her read through. Her face grows paler and paler as she nears the end.

  Fuck, I hope this isn't frightening her off.

  I want her. I want her submission...badly. She swallows, glancing nervously up at me. How can I persuade her to give this a try? I should reassure her, show her that I'm capable of caring.

  "Is there anything you'd like to add?"

  Deep down I hope she won't add anything. I want carte blanche with her. She stares at me, still at a loss for words. It's irritating. I'm not used to waiting for answers. "Is there anything you won't do?" I prompt.

  "I don't know."

  Not the response I was expecting.

  "What do you mean you don't know?"

  She shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable, her teeth toying with her bottom lip. Again. "I've never done anything like this."

  Hell, of course she hasn't.

  Patience, Grey. For fuck's sake. You've thrown a great deal of information at her. I continue my gentle approach. It's novel.

  "Well, when you've had sex, was there anything that you didn't like doing?" And I'm reminded of the photographer fumbling all over her yesterday.

  She flushes and my interest is piqued. What has she done that she didn't like? Is she adventurous in bed? She seems so--innocent. Normally I don't find that attractive.

  "You can tell me, Anastasia. We have to be honest with each other or this isn't going to work." I really have to encourage her to loosen up--she won't even talk about sex. She's squirming again and staring at her fingers.

  Come on, Ana.

  "Tell me," I order. Sweet Lord, she's frustrating.

  "Well, I've not had sex before, so I don't know," she whispers.

  The earth stops spinning.

  I don't fucking believe it.

  How?

  Why?

  Fuck!

  "Never?" I'm incredulous.

  She shakes her head, eyes wide.

  "You're a virgin?" I don't believe it.

  She nods, embarrassed. I close my eyes. I can't look at her.

  How the hell did I get this so wrong?

  Anger lances through me. What can I do with a virgin? I glare at her as fury surges through my body.

  "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" I growl, and start pacing my study. What do I want with a virgin? She shrugs apologetically, at a loss for words.

  "I don't understand why you didn't tell me." The exasperation is clear in my voice.

  "The subject never came up," she says. "I'm not in the habit of revealing my sexual status to everyone I meet. I mean, we hardly know each other."

  As ever, it's a fair point. I can't believe I've given her the bus tour of my playroom--thank heavens for the NDA.

  "Well, you know a lot more about me now," I snarl. "I knew you were inexperienced, but a virgin! Hell, Ana, I just showed you..."

  Not only the playroom: my rules, hard limits. She knows nothing. How could I do this? "May God forgive me," I mutter under my breath. I'm at a loss.

  A startling thought occurs to me--our one kiss in the elevator, where I could have fucked her there and then--was that her first kiss?

  "Have you ever been kissed, apart from by me?" Please say yes.

  "Of course I have." She looks offended. Yeah, she's been kissed, but not often. And for some reason the thought is...pleasing.

  "And a nice young man hasn't swept you off your feet? I just don't understand. You're twenty-one, nearly twenty-two. You're beautiful." Why hasn't some guy taken her to bed?

  Shit, maybe she's religious. No, Welch would have uncovered that. She gazes down at her fingers, and I think she's smiling. She thinks this is funny? I could kick myself. "And you're seriously discussing what I want to do, when you have no experience."

  Words fail me. How can this be?

  "How have you avoided sex? Tell me, please." Because I don't get it. She's in college--and from what I remember of college all the kids were fucking like rabbits.

  All of them. Except me.

  The thought is a dark one, but I push it aside for the moment.

  Ana shrugs, her small shoulders lifting slightly. "No one's really, you know..." She trails off.

  No one has what? Seen how attractive you are? No one's lived up to your expectations--and I do?

  Me?

  She really knows nothing. How could she ever be a submissive if she has no idea about sex? This is not going to fly...and all the groundwork I've done has been for nothing. I can't close this deal.

  "Why are you so angry with me?" she whispers.

  Of course she would think that. Make this right, Grey.

  "I'm not angry with you, I'm angry at myself. I just assumed--" Why the hell would I be angry with you? What a mess this is. I run my hands through m
y hair, trying to rein in my temper.

  "Do you want to go?" I ask, concerned.

  "No, unless you want me to go," she says softly, her voice tinged with regret.

  "Of course not. I like having you here." The statement surprises me as I say it. I do like having her here. Being with her. She's so...different. And I want to fuck her, and spank her, and watch her alabaster skin pink beneath my hands. That's out of the question now--isn't it? Perhaps not the fucking...perhaps I could. The thought is a revelation. I could take her to bed. Break her in. It would be a novel experience for both of us. Would she want to? She asked me earlier if I was going to make love to her. I could try, without tying her up.

  But she might touch me.

  Fuck. I glance down at my watch and note the time. It's late. When I look back at her the sight of her toying with her bottom lip arouses me.

  I still want her, in spite of her innocence. Could I take her to bed? Would she want to, knowing what she knows about me now? Hell, I have no idea. Do I just ask her? But she's turning me on, biting her lip again. I point it out and she apologizes.

  "Don't apologize. It's just that I want to bite it, too, hard."

  Her breath hitches.

  Oh. Maybe she's interested. Yes. Let's do this. My decision is made.

  "Come," I offer, holding out my hand.

  "What?"

  "We're going to rectify the situation right now."

  "What do you mean? What situation?"

  "Your situation. Ana, I'm going to make love to you, now."

  "Oh."

  "That's if you want to. I mean, I don't want to push my luck."

  "I thought you didn't make love. I thought you fucked hard," she says, her voice husky and so damned seductive, her eyes wide, pupils dilating. She's flushed with desire--she wants this, too.

  And a wholly unexpected thrill unfurls inside me. "I can make an exception, or maybe combine the two, we'll see. I really want to make love to you. Please, come to bed with me. I want our arrangement to work, but you really need to have some idea what you're getting yourself into. We can start your training tonight--with the basics. This doesn't mean I've come over all hearts and flowers--it's a means to an end, but one that I want, and hopefully you do, too." The words rush out in a torrent.

  Grey! Get ahold of yourself.

  Her cheeks pink.

  Come on, Ana, yes or no. I'm dying here.

  "But I haven't done all the things you require from your list of rules." Her voice is timid. Is she afraid? I hope not. I don't want her to be afraid.

  "Forget about the rules. Forget about all those details for tonight. I want you. I've wanted you since you fell into my office, and I know you want me. You wouldn't be sitting here calmly discussing punishment and hard limits if you didn't. Please, Ana, spend the night with me."

  I offer her my hand again, and this time she takes it, and I pull her into my arms, holding her flush against my body. She gasps with surprise and I feel her against me. The darkness is quiet, perhaps subdued by my libido. I want her. She's so alluring. This girl confounds me, every step of the way. I've revealed my dark secret, yet she's still here; she hasn't run.

  My fingers tug at her hair, pulling her face up to mine, and I gaze into captivating eyes.

  "You are one brave young woman," I breathe. "I am in awe of you." I lean down and gently kiss her, then tease her lower lip with my teeth. "I want to bite this lip." I tug harder and she whimpers. My cock hardens in response.

  "Please, Ana, let me make love to you," I whisper against her mouth.

  "Yes," she responds--and my body lights up like the Fourth of July.

  Get a grip, Grey. We have no arrangement in place, no limits set, she's not mine to do with as I please--and yet I'm excited. Aroused. It's an unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling, desire for this woman coursing through me. I'm at the tipping edge of a giant roller coaster.

  Vanilla sex?

  Can I do this?

  Without another word I lead her out of my study, through the living room, and down the corridor to my bedroom. She follows, her hand tightly holding mine.

  Shit. Contraception. I'm sure she's not on the pill...Fortunately, I have condoms for backup. At least I don't have to worry about every dick she's slept with. I release her by the bed, walk over to my chest of drawers, and remove my watch, shoes, and socks.

  "I assume you're not on the pill."

  She shakes her head.

  "I didn't think so." From the drawer I take out a packet of condoms, letting her know I'm prepared. She studies me, her eyes impossibly large in her beautiful face, and I have a moment's hesitation. This is supposed to be a big deal for her, isn't it? I remember my first time with Elena, how embarrassing it was...but what a heavensent relief. Deep down I know I should send her home. But the simple truth is, I don't want her to go, and I want her. What's more, I can see my desire reflected in her expression, in her darkening eyes.

  "Do you want the blinds drawn?" I ask.

  "I don't mind," she says. "I thought you didn't let anyone sleep in your bed."

  "Who says we're going to sleep?"

  "Oh." Her lips form a perfect small o. My cock hardens further. Yes, I'd like to fuck that mouth, that o. I stalk toward her like she's my prey. Oh, baby, I want to bury myself in you. Her breathing is shallow and quick. Her cheeks are rosy...she's wary, but excited. She's at my mercy, and knowing that makes me feel powerful. She has no idea what I'm going to do to her. "Let's get this jacket off, shall we?" Reaching up, I gently push her jacket off her shoulders, fold it, and place it on my chair.

  "Do you have any idea how much I want you, Ana Steele?"

  Her lips part as she inhales, and I reach up to touch her cheek. Her skin is petal-soft beneath my fingertips as they glide down to her chin. She's entranced--lost--under my spell. She's already mine. It's intoxicating.

  "Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you?" I murmur, and hold her chin between my thumb and forefinger. Leaning down, I kiss her firmly, molding her lips to mine. Returning my kiss, she's soft and sweet and willing, and I have an overwhelming need to see her, all of her. I make quick work of her buttons, slowly peeling off her blouse and letting it fall to the floor. I stand back to look at her. She's wearing the pale blue bra that Taylor bought.

  She's stunning.

  "Oh, Ana. You have the most beautiful skin, pale and flawless. I want to kiss every single inch of it." There's not a mark on her. The thought is unsettling. I want to see her marked...pink...with tiny, thin welts from a crop maybe.

  She colors a delicious rose--embarrassed, no doubt. If I do nothing else, I will teach her not to be shy of her body. Reaching up, I pull her hair tie, freeing her hair. It tumbles lush and chestnut around her face, down to her breasts.

  "Mmm, I like brunettes." She's lovely, exceptional, a jewel.

  Holding her head, I run my fingers through her hair and pull her to me, kissing her. She moans against me and parts her lips, allowing me access to her warm, wet mouth. The sweet appreciative noise echoes through me--to the end of my cock. Her tongue shyly meets mine, tentatively probing my mouth, and for some reason, her fumbling inexperience is...hot.

  She tastes luscious. Wine, grapes, and innocence--a potent, heady mix of flavors. I fold my arms tightly around her, relieved that she grips only my upper arms. With one hand in her hair, holding her in place, I run my other hand down her spine to her ass and push her against me, against my erection. She moans again. I continue to kiss her, coaxing her unschooled tongue to explore my mouth as I explore hers. My body tenses when she moves her hands up my arms--and for a moment I worry where she'll touch me next. She caresses my cheek, then strokes my hair. It's a little unnerving. But when she twists her fingers in my hair, pulling gently...

  Damn, that feels good.

  I groan in response but can't let her continue. Before she can touch me again, I push her against the bed and drop to my knees. I want her out of these jeans--I want to strip her, arouse her some
more, and...keep her hands off me. Grasping her hips, I run my tongue just north of the waistband up to her navel. She tenses and inhales sharply. Fuck, does she smell and taste good, an orchard in springtime, and I want my fill. Her hands fist in my hair once more; this I don't mind--in fact, I like it. I nip her hipbone and her grip tightens in my hair. Her eyes are closed, her mouth slack, and she's panting. As I reach up and undo the button on her jeans, she opens her eyes and we study each other. Slowly I ease down the zipper and move my hands around her ass. Slipping my hands inside the waistband, my palms against the soft cheeks of her behind, I slide her jeans off.

  I can't stop myself. I want to shock her...test her boundaries right now. Not taking my eyes off hers, I deliberately lick my lips, then lean forward and run my nose up the center of her panties, inhaling her arousal. Closing my eyes, I savor her.

  Lord, she's enticing.

  "You smell so good." My voice is husky with want and my jeans are becoming extremely uncomfortable. I need to take them off. Gently, I push her onto the bed and, grasping her right foot, I make quick work of removing her sneaker and sock. To tease her I run my thumbnail along her instep and she writhes gratifyingly on the bed, her mouth open, watching me, fascinated. Leaning down, I trace my tongue along her instep, and my teeth graze the little line that my thumbnail has left in its wake. She lies back on the bed, eyes closed, groaning. She's so responsive, it's delightful.

  "Oh, Ana, what I could do to you," I whisper, as images of her writhing beneath me in my playroom flash through my mind: shackled to my four-poster bed, bent over the table--suspended from the cross. I could tease and torture her until she begged for release...the images make my jeans even tighter.

  Hell.

  Quickly I remove her other shoe and sock, and pull off her jeans. She's almost naked on my bed, her hair framing her face perfectly, her long, pale legs stretched out in invitation before me. I have to make allowances for her inexperience. But she's panting. Wanting. Her eyes fixed on me.

  I've never fucked anyone in my bed before. Another first with Miss Steele.

  "You're very beautiful, Anastasia Steele. I can't wait to be inside you." My voice is gentle; I want to tease her some more, find out what she does know. "Show me how you pleasure yourself," I ask, gazing intently down at her.

  She frowns.

  "Don't be coy, Ana, show me." Part of me wants to spank the shyness out of her.

  She shakes her head. "I don't know what you mean."

  Is she playing games?

  "How do you make yourself come? I want to see."