Fifty Shades of Grey(205)

"You wore my underwear."

"Did that shock you?"

"Yes." My inner goddess pole-vaults over the fifteen-foot bar.

"You didn't wear your panties to meet my parents."

"Did that shock you?"

"Yes."

Jeez, the bar's moved to sixteen feet.

"It seems I can only shock you in the underwear department."

"You told me you were a virgin. That's the biggest shock I've ever had."

"Yes, your face was a picture, a Kodak moment." I giggle.

"You let me work you over with a riding crop."

"Did that shock you?"

"Yep."

I grin.

"Well, I may let you do it again."

"Oh, I do hope so, Miss Steele. This weekend?"

"Okay," I agree, shyly.

"Okay?"

"Yes. I'll go to the Red Room of Pain again."

"You say my name."

"That shocks you?"

"The fact that I like it shocks me."

"Christian."

He grins.

"I want to do something tomorrow." His eyes glow with excitement.

"What?"

"A surprise. For you." His voice is low and soft.

I raise an eyebrow and stifle a yawn at the same time.

"Am I boring you, Miss Steele?" His tone is sardonic.

"Never."

He leans across and kisses me gently on my lips.

"Sleep," he commands, then switches off the light.

And in this quiet moment, as I close my eyes, spent and sated, I think I'm in the eye of the storm. And in spite of all he's said, and what he hasn't said, I don't think I have ever been so happy.


Christian stands in a steel-barred cage. Wearing his soft, ripped jeans, his chest and feet are mouthwateringly naked, and he's staring at me. His private-joke smile etched on his beautiful face and his eyes a molten gray. In his hands he holds a bowl of strawberries.

He ambles with athletic grace to the front of the cage, gazing intently at me. Holding up a plump ripe strawberry, he extends his hand through the bars.

"Eat," he says, his tongue caressing the front of his palate as he enunciates the 't'.

I try and move toward him, but I'm tethered, held back by some unseen force around my wrist, holding me . Let me go.

"Come, eat," he says, smiling his delicious crooked smile.

I pull and pull... let me go! I want to scream and shout, but no sound emerges. I am mute. He stretches a little further, and the strawberry is at my lips.

"Eat, Anastasia." His mouth forms my name, lingering sensually on each syllable.

I open my mouth and bite, the cage disappears, and my hands are free. I reach up to touch him, graze my fingers through his chest hair.

"Anastasia."

No. I moan.

"Come on, baby."

No. I want to touch you.

"Wake up."

No. Please. My eyes flicker unwillingly open for a split second. I'm in bed and someone is nuzzling my ear.

"Wake up, baby," he whispers, and the effect of his sweet voice spreads like warm melted caramel through my veins.

It's Christian. Jeez, it's still dark, and the images of him from my dream persists, disconcerting and tantalizing in my head.

"Oh... no," I groan. I want back at his chest, back to my dream. Why is he waking me?

It's the middle of the night, or so it feels . Holy shit. Does he want sex - now?