"Strange."
"Strange good or strange bad?"
"Strange good," she answers.
"Good."
She'll need to get used to them. What better way than to stretch and reach for something?
"I want a glass of water. Go and fetch one for me, please. And when you come back, I shall put you across my knee. Think about that, Anastasia."
She's puzzled, but she turns and walks gingerly, with tentative steps, out of the room. While she's gone I collect a condom from my drawer. I'm running low; I'll need to stock up on these until her pill kicks in. Sitting back down on the bed, I wait with impatience.
When she reenters her walk is more confident, and she has my water.
"Thank you," I say, taking a quick sip and placing the glass on my bedside table. When I look up she's watching me with overt desire.
It's a good look on her.
"Come. Stand beside me. Like last time."
She does, and now her breathing is irregular...heavy. Boy, she's really turned on. So different from the last time I spanked her.
Let's rile her up some more, Grey.
"Ask me." My voice is firm.
A mystified look crosses her face.
"Ask me."
Come on, Ana.
Her brow furrows.
"Ask me, Anastasia. I won't say it again." My voice is sharper.
Finally, she realizes what I'm asking for and she blushes. "Spank me, please, Sir," she says quietly.
Those words...I close my eyes and let them ring through my head. Grasping her hand, I tug her over my knees so her torso lands on the bed. While stroking her behind with one hand, I smooth her hair off her face with the other, and tuck it behind her ear. Then I grasp her hair at the nape of her neck to hold her in place.
"I want to see your face while I spank you." I caress her behind and push against her vulva, knowing that the action will push the balls deeper inside her.
She hums her approval.
"This is for pleasure, Anastasia, mine and yours."
I lift my hand, then smack her right there.
"Ah!" she mouths, screwing up her face, and I caress her sweet, sweet ass while she adjusts to the sensation. When she relaxes, I smack her again. She groans, and I suppress my response. I begin in earnest, right cheek, left cheek, then the junction of her thighs and ass. Between each smack I fondle and knead her backside, watching her skin turn a delicate shade of pink beneath her lacy underwear.
She moans, absorbing the pleasure, enjoying the experience.
I stop. I want to see her ass in all its rosy glory. Unhurriedly, teasing her, I tug down her panties, skimming my fingertips down her thighs, the backs of her knees, and her calves. She lifts her feet, and I discard her panties on the floor. She squirms, but stops when I place my hand flat against her pink, glowing skin. Grabbing her hair again, I start anew. Gently first, then resuming the pattern.
She's wet; her arousal is on my palm.
I grip her hair harder and she moans, eyes closed, mouth open and slack.
Fuck, she's hot.
"Good girl." My voice is hoarse, my breathing erratic.
I spank her a couple more times until I can bear it no more.
I want her.
Now.
I wrap my fingers around the tab and draw the balls out of her.
She cries out in pleasure. Turning her over, I pause to yank my pants off and put on a wretched condom, then lie down beside her. I grab her hands, lift them over her head, and slowly ease myself onto her and into her as she mewls like a cat.
"Oh, baby." She feels incredible.
"I want you to make love to me." Her words ring in my head.
And gently, oh so gently, I start to move, feeling every precious inch of her beneath and around me. I kiss her, appreciating her mouth and her body at once. She wraps her legs around mine, meeting each gentle thrust, rocking against me until she spirals up and up and up and lets go.
Her orgasm tips me over the edge. "Ana!" I call, pouring myself into her. Letting go. A welcome release that leaves me...wanting more. Needing more.
As my equilibrium returns, I push away the strange swell of emotion that gnaws at my insides. It's not like the darkness, but it's something to fear. Something I don't understand.
She flexes her fingers around mine, and I open my eyes and look down into her sleepy, sated gaze.
"I enjoyed that," I whisper, and give her a lingering kiss.
She rewards me with a drowsy smile. I get up, cover her with the comforter, pick up my PJ pants, and pad into the bathroom, where I remove and dispose of the condom. I pull on my pants and find the arnica cream.
Back at the bed, Ana gives me a contented grin.
"Roll over," I order, and for a moment I think she's going to roll her eyes, but she indulges me and moves. "Your ass is a glorious color," I observe, pleased with the results. I squirt some cream on my palm and slowly massage it into her behind.
"Spill the beans, Grey," she says with a yawn.
"Miss Steele, you know how to ruin a moment."
"We had a deal," she insists.
"How do you feel?"
"Shortchanged."
With a heavy sigh I place the arnica cream on the bedside table and slip into bed, pulling Ana into my arms. I kiss her ear. "The woman who brought me into this world was a crack whore, Anastasia. Go to sleep."
She tenses in my arms.
I still. I do not want her sympathy or her pity.
"Was?" she whispers.
"She's dead."
"How long?"
"She died when I was four. I don't really remember her. Carrick has given me some details. I only remember certain things. Please go to sleep."
After a while she relaxes against me. "Good night, Christian." Her voice is sleepy.
"Good night, Ana." I kiss her once more, inhaling her soothing scent and fighting off my memories.
"Don't just pick the apples and throw them away, asshole!"
"Fuck off, you righteous dweeb."
Elliot picks an apple, takes a bite, and throws it at me.
"Maggot," he taunts.
No! Don't call me that.
I jump him. Pounding my fists into his face.
"You fucking pig. This is food. You're just wasting it. Grandpa sells these. You pig. Pig. Pig."
"ELLIOT. CHRISTIAN."
Dad drags me off Elliot, who is cowering on the ground.
"What is this about?"
"He's insane."
"Elliot!"
"He's destroying the apples." Anger swells in my chest, in my throat. I think I might explode. "He's taking a bite and then throwing them away. Throwing them at me."
"Elliot, is this true?"
Elliot turns red under Dad's hard stare.
"I think you'd better come with me. Christian, pick up the apples. You can help Mom bake a pie."
She's fast asleep when I wake, my nose in her fragrant hair, my arms cocooning her. I've dreamed about romping through my grandfather's apple orchard with Elliot; those were happy, angry days.
It's nearly seven--another lie-in with Miss Steele. It's odd waking up beside her, but odd in a good way. I contemplate waking her with a morning fuck; my body is more than willing--but she's practically comatose and she might be sore. I should let her sleep. I climb out of bed, careful not to wake her, grab a T-shirt, gather her clothes from the floor, and wander into the living room.
"Good morning, Mr. Grey." Mrs. Jones is busy in the kitchen.
"Good morning, Gail." Stretching, I look out the windows at the remnants of a vivid dawn.
"You have some laundry there?" she asks.
"Yes. These are Anastasia's."
"Do you want me to wash and press them?"
"Do you have time?"
"I'll put them on the quick cycle."
"Excellent, thank you." I pass her Ana's clothes. "How was your sister?"
"Very well, thanks. The kids are growing. Boys can be rough."
"I know."
She smiles and offers to make me some coffee.
"Please. I'll be in my study." As she watches me her smile changes from pleasant to knowing...in the way that's feminine and secretive. Then she hurries out of the kitchen, I assume to the laundry room.
What's her problem?
Okay, this is the first Monday--the first time--in the four years she's worked for me that there's been a woman asleep in my bed. But it's not that big a deal. Breakfast for two, Mrs. Jones. I think you can manage that.
I shake my head and wander into my study to start work. I'll shower later...maybe with Ana.
I check my e-mails and send one to Andrea and Ros, saying I'll be in this afternoon, not this morning. Then I take a look at Barney's latest schematics.
GAIL KNOCKS AND BRINGS me a second cup of coffee, letting me know it's already 8:15.
That late?
"I'm not going into the office this morning."
"Taylor was asking."
"I'll go this afternoon."
"I'll tell him. I've hung Miss Steele's clothes in your closet."
"Thank you. That was quick. She still asleep?"
"I think so." And there's that little smile again. I arch my brows and her smile broadens as she turns to leave my study. I put my work aside and head off with my coffee to take a shower and have a shave.
ANA IS STILL OUT for the count when I finish dressing.
You've exhausted her, Grey. And it was pleasurable, more than pleasurable. She looks serene, as if she doesn't have a care in the world.
Good.
From the chest I take my watch, and on an impulse open the top drawer and pocket my last condom.
You never know.
I amble back through the living room toward my study.
"Do you want your breakfast yet, sir?"
"I'll have breakfast with Ana. Thanks."
I pick up the phone and call Andrea from my desk. After we've exchanged a few words she puts me through to Ros.
"So when can we expect you?" Ros's tone is sarcastic.
"Good morning, Ros. How are you?" I say sweetly.
"Pissed."
"At me?"
"Yes, at you, and your hands-off work ethic."
"I'll be in later. The reason I'm calling is I've decided to liquidate Woods's company." I've told her this already, but she and Marco are taking too long. I want this done, now. I remind her that this was going to happen if the company's P&L didn't improve. And it hasn't.
"He needs more time."
"I'm not interested, Ros. We're not carrying deadweight."
"Are you sure?"
"I don't want any more lame excuses." Enough, already. I've made up my mind.
"Christian--"
"Have Marco call me, it's shit-or-bust time."
"Okay. Okay. If that's what you really want. Anything else?"
"Yes. Tell Barney that the prototype looks good, though I'm not sure about the interface."
"I thought the interface worked well, once I figured it out. Not that I'm an expert."
"No, it's just missing something."
"Talk to Barney."
"I want to meet him this afternoon to discuss."
"Face-to-face?"
Her sarcasm is irritating. But I ignore her tone and tell her that I want his whole team there to brainstorm.
"He'll be pleased. So I'll see you this afternoon?" She sounds hopeful.
"Okay," I reassure her. "Transfer me back to Andrea."
While I wait for her to pick up the phone I gaze out at the cloudless sky. It's the same shade as Ana's eyes.
Sappy, Grey.
"Andrea--"
A movement distracts me. Looking up, I'm pleased to see Ana standing in the doorway, dressed in nothing but my T-shirt. Her legs, long and shapely, are on display for my eyes only. She has great legs.
"Mr. Grey," Andrea answers.
My eyes lock with Ana's. They are the color of a summer sky and just as warm. Good Lord, I could bask in her warmth all day--every day.
Don't be absurd, Grey.
"Clear my schedule this morning, but get Bill to call me. I'll be in at two. I need to talk to Marco this afternoon, that will need at least half an hour."
A soft smile tugs at Ana's lips and I find myself mirroring her.
"Yes, sir," Andrea says.
"Schedule Barney and his team in after Marco or maybe tomorrow, and find time for me to see Claude every day this week."
"Sam wants to talk to you, this morning."
"Tell him to wait."
"It's about Darfur."
"Oh?"
"Apparently he sees the aid convoy as a great personal PR opportunity."
Oh, God. He would, wouldn't he?
"No, I don't want publicity for Darfur." My voice is gruff with exasperation.
"He says there's a journalist from Forbes who wants to talk to you about it."
How the hell do they know?
"Tell Sam to deal with it," I snap. That's what he's paid to do.
"Do you want to speak to him directly?" she asks.
"No."
"Will do. I also need to RSVP to the event on Saturday."
"Which event?"
"Chamber of Commerce Gala."
"That's next Saturday?" I ask, as an idea pops into my head.
"Yes, sir."
"Hold on--" I turn to Ana, who's jiggling her left foot but not taking her sky-blue eyes off me. "When will you be back from Georgia?"
"Friday," she says.
"I'll need an extra ticket, because I have a date," I inform Andrea.
"A date?" Andrea squeaks with incredulity.
I sigh. "Yes, Andrea, that's what I said. A date. Miss Anastasia Steele will accompany me."
"Yes, Mr. Grey." She sounds as if I've made her day.
For fuck's sake. What is it with my staff?
"That's all." I hang up. "Good morning, Miss Steele."
"Mr. Grey," Ana says in greeting. I walk around my desk until I'm in front of her, and caress her face.
"I didn't want to wake you, you looked so peaceful. Did you sleep well?"
"I am very well rested, thank you. I just came to say hi before I had a shower." She's smiling and her eyes are shining with delight. It's a pleasure to see her like this. Before I get back to work I lean down to give her a gentle kiss. Suddenly she wraps her arms around my neck and tangles her fingers in my hair, and presses her body along the length of mine.
Whoa.
Her lips are persistent, so I respond, kissing her back, surprised by the intensity of her ardor. With one hand I cup her head, with the other her naked, recently spanked ass, and my body ignites like dry tinder.
"Well, sleep seems to agree with you." My voice is laced with sudden lust. "I suggest you go and have your shower, or shall I lay you across my desk now?"
"I choose the desk," she whispers at the corner of my mouth, grinding her sex against my erection.
Well, this is a surprise.
Her eyes are dark and greedy with want. "You've really got a taste for this, haven't you, Miss Steele? You're becoming insatiable."
"I've only got a taste for you."
"Damn right. Only me!" Her words are a siren's call to my libido. Losing all self-restraint, I sweep everything off my desk, sending my papers, phone, and pens all clattering or floating to the floor, but I don't give a damn. I lift Ana and lay her across my desk so her hair spills over the edge and onto the seat of my chair.
"You want it, you got it, baby," I growl, whipping out the condom and unzipping my pants. Making quick work of covering my cock, I stare down at the insatiable Miss Steele. "I sure hope you're ready," I warn her, grabbing hold of her wrists and keeping them at her sides. With one swift move I'm inside her.
"Ah...Christ, Ana. You're so ready." I give her a nanosecond to adjust to my presence. Then I start to push. Back and forth. Over and over. Harder and harder. She tips her head back, mouth open in a wordless plea,
as her breasts rise and fall in rhythm with each jolt to her body. She wraps her legs around me while I stand, drilling into her.
This what you want, baby?
She meets every thrust, rocking against me and moaning as I possess her. Taking her--higher and higher and higher--until I feel her stiffening around me.
"Come on, baby, give it up for me," I grit through clenched teeth, and she does, spectacularly, crying out and sucking me into my own orgasm.
Fuck. I come as spectacularly as she does, and I slump down on top of her while her body tightens around me with aftershocks.
Damn. That was unexpected.
"What the hell are you doing to me?" I'm breathless, my lips skimming her neck. "You completely beguile me, Ana. You weave some powerful magic."
And you jumped me!
I release her wrists and move to stand, but she tightens her legs around me, her fingers tangling in my hair.
"I'm the one beguiled," she whispers. Our eyes are locked, her scrutiny intense, as if she's seeing through me. Seeing the darkness in my soul.
Shit. Let me go. This is too much.
I cup her face in my hands to kiss her quickly, but as I do the unwelcome thought of her being in this position with someone else pops into my mind. No. She's not doing this with anyone else. Ever.
"You. Are. Mine." My words crack between us. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, yours," she says, her expression heartfelt, her words full of conviction, and my irrational jealousy recedes.
"Are you sure you have to go to Georgia?" I ask, smoothing her hair from around her face.
She nods.
Damn.
I pull out of her and she winces.
"Are you sore?"
"A little," she says with a timid smile.
"I like you sore. Reminds you where I've been, and only me." I give her a rough, possessive kiss.
Because I don't want her to go to Georgia.
And no one's jumped me since...since Elena.
And even then, it was always calculated, part of a scene.
Standing, I hold out my hand and pull her to a sitting position. As I tug off the condom, she murmurs, "Always prepared."
I give her a confounded look as I fasten my fly. She holds up the empty foil packet by way of explanation.
"A man can hope, Anastasia, dream even, and sometimes his dreams come true." I had no idea I'd get to use it so soon, and on her terms, not mine. Miss Steele, for such an innocent, you are, as ever, unexpected.
"So...on your desk...that's been a dream?" she asks.
Sweetheart. I've had sex on this desk many, many times, but always at my instigation, never at a submissive's.
This is not how it works.
Her face falls as she reads my thoughts.
Shit. What can I say? Ana, unlike you, I have a past.
I run my hand through my hair in frustration; this morning is not going according to plan.