Fifty Shades Darker(232)

"Turn around," he orders gently and I obey. Pulling my hair free of the tie, he quickly braids and secures it. He tugs the braid so my head tilts up.

"You have beautiful hair, Anastasia," he murmurs and kisses my throat, sending shivers running up and down my spine. "You just have to say stop. You know that, don't you?"

he whispers against my throat.

I nod, my eyes closed, and relish his lips on me. He turns me round once more and picks up the end of the tie.

"Come," he says, tugging gently, leading me over to the chest where the rest of the box's contents are on display.

"Anastasia, these objects." He holds up the butt plug. "This is a size too big. As an anal virgin, you don't want to start with this. We want to start with this." He holds up his pinky finger, and I gasp, shocked. Fingers... there? He smirks at me, and the unpleasant thought of the anal fisting mentioned in the contract comes to mind.

"Just finger - singular," he says softly with that uncanny ability he has to read my mind. My eyes dart to his. How does he do that?

"These clamps are vicious." He prods the nipple clamps. "We'll use these." He places a different pair of clamps on the chest. They look like giant black hairpins, but with little jet jewels hanging down. "They're adjustable," Christian murmurs, his voice laced with gentle concern.

I blink up at him, wide-eyed. Christian, my sexual mentor. He knows so much more about all this than I do. I'll never catch up. I frown. He knows more than me about most things... except cooking.

"Clear?" he asks.

"Yes," I whisper, my mouth dry. "Are you going to tell me what you intend to do?"

"No. I'm making this up as I go along. This isn't a scene, Ana."

"How should I behave?"

His brow creases. "However you want to."

Oh!

"Were you expecting my alter ego, Anastasia?" he asks, his tone vaguely mocking and bemused at once. I blink at him.

"Well, yes. I like him," I murmur. He smiles his private smile and reaches up to run his thumb down my cheek.

"Do you now," he breathes and runs his thumb across my lower lip. "I'm your lover, Anastasia, not your Dom. I love to hear your laugh and your girlish giggle. I like you relaxed and happy, like you are in Jose's photos. That's the girl that fell into my office. That's the girl I fell in love with."

Holy cow. My mouth drops open, and a welcome warmth blooms in my heart. It's joy - pure joy.

"But having said all that, I also like to do rude things to you, Miss Steele; and my alter ego knows a trick or two. So, do as you're told and turn around." His eyes glint wickedly, and the joy moves sharply south, seizing me tightly and gripping every sinew below my waist. I do as I'm told. Behind me, he opens one of the drawers and a moment later he's in front of me again.

"Come," he orders and tugs on the tie, leading me to the table. As we walk past the couch, I notice for the first time that all the canes have vanished. It distracts me. Were they there yesterday when I came in? I don't remember. Did Christian move them? Mrs. Jones?

Christian interrupts my train of thought.

"I want you to kneel up on this," he says when we're at the table.

Oh, okay. What does he have in mind? My inner goddess can't wait to find out - she's already scissor-kicked onto the table and is watching him with adoration.

He gently lifts me onto the table, and I fold my legs beneath me and kneel in front of him, surprised by my own grace. Now we are eye to eye. He runs his hands down my thighs, grasps my knees, and pulls my legs apart and stands directly in front of me. He looks very serious, his eyes darker, hooded... lustful.