Fifty Shades of Grey(50)

"It's all part of the incentive package. Both reward and punishment."

"So you'll get your kicks by exerting your will over me."

"It's about gaining your trust and your respect, so you'll let me exert my will over you.

I will gain a great deal of pleasure, joy, even in your submission. The more you submit, the greater my joy - it's a very simple equation."

"Okay, and what do I get out of this?"

He shrugs and looks almost apologetic.

"Me," he says simply.

Oh my. Christian rakes his hand through his hair as he gazes at me.

"You're not giving anything away, Anastasia," he murmurs, exasperated. "Let's go back downstairs where I can concentrate better. It's very distracting having you in here."

He holds his hand out to me, and now I'm hesitant to take it.

Kate had said he was dangerous, she was so right. How did she know He's dangerous to my health, because I know I'm going to say yes. And part of me doesn't want to.

Part of me wants to run screaming from this room and all it represents. I am so out of my depth here.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Anastasia." His gray eyes implore, and I know he speaks the truth. I take his hand, and he leads me out of the door.

"If you do this, let me show you." Rather than going back downstairs, he turns right out of the playroom, as he calls it, and down a corridor. We pass several doors until we reach the one at the end. Beyond it is a bedroom with a large double bed, all in white...

everything, furniture, walls, bedding. It's sterile and cold but with the most glorious view of Seattle through the glass wall.

"This will be your room. You can decorate it how you like, have whatever you like in here."

"My roomYou're expecting me to move in?" I can't hide the horror in my voice.

"Not full time. Just say, Friday evening through Sunday. We have to talk about all that, negotiate. If you want to do this," he adds, his voice quiet and hesitant.

"I'll sleep here?"

"Yes."

"Not with you."

"No. I told you, I don't sleep with anyone, except you, when you're stupefied with drink." His eyes are reprimanding.

My mouth presses in a hard line. This is what I cannot reconcile. Kind, caring Christian, who rescues me from inebriation and holds me gently while I'm throwing up into the azaleas, and the monster who possesses whips and chains in a special room.

"Where do you sleep?"

"My room is downstairs. Come, you must be hungry."

"Weirdly, I seem to have lost my appetite," I murmur petulantly.

"You must eat, Anastasia," he admonishes and, taking my hand, leads me back downstairs.

Back in the impossibly big room, I am filled with deep trepidation. I am on the edge of a precipice, and I have to decide whether or not to jump.

"I'm fully aware that this is a dark path I'm leading you down, Anastasia, which is why I really want you to think about this. You must have some questions," he says as he wanders into the kitchen area, releasing my hand.

I do. But where to start?

"You've signed your NDA, you can ask me anything you want, and I'll answer."

I stand at the breakfast bar watching him as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out a plate of different cheeses with two large bunches of green and red grapes. He sets the plate down on the worktop and proceeds to cut up a French baguette.

"Sit." He points to one of the bar stools at the breakfast bar, and I obey his command.