Fifty Shades of Grey

"You are one challenging woman, Ana Steele." He kisses me passionately, forcing my lips apart with his tongue, taking no prisoners.

My blood heats immediately, and I'm returning his kiss with my own passion. I want him badly - in spite of the car, the books, the soft limits... the caning... I want him.

"It's taking all my self-control not to f*ck you on the hood of this car right now, just to show you that you are mine, and if I want to buy you a f*cking car, I'll buy you a f*cking car," he growls. "Now let's get you inside and naked." He plants a swift rough kiss on me.

Boy, he's angry. He grabs my hand and leads me back into the apartment and straight into my bedroom... no passing go. My subconscious is behind the sofa again, head hidden under her hands. He switches on the sidelight and halts, staring at me.

"Please don't be angry with me," I whisper.

His gaze is impassive; his gray eyes cold shards of smoky glass.

"I'm sorry about the car and the books," I trail off. He remains silent and brooding.

"You scare me when you're angry," I breathe, staring at him.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them, his expression has softened fractionally. He takes a deep breath and swallows.

"Turn round," he whispers. "I want to get you out of that dress."

Another mercurial mood swing, it's so hard to keep up. Obediently, I turn and my heart is thumping, desire instantly replacing unease, coursing through my blood and settling dark and yearning low, low in my belly. He scoops my hair off my back so it hangs down my right side, curling at my breast. He places his index finger at the nape of my neck and achingly slowly drags it down my spine. His well-manicured fingernail gently grazes down my back.

"I like this dress," he murmurs. "I like to see your flawless skin."

His finger reaches the back of my halter dress midway down my spine, and hooking his finger beneath the top, he pulls me closer so that I step back against him. I feel him flush against my body. Leaning down, he inhales my hair.

"You smell so good, Anastasia. So sweet." His nose skims past my ear down my neck, and he trails soft, feather light kisses along my shoulder.

My breathing changes, becoming shallow, rushed, full of expectation. His fingers are at my zipper. Achingly slow, once more he eases it down while his lips move, licking and kissing and sucking their way across to my other shoulder. He is so tantalizingly good at this. My body resonates, and I start to squirm languidly beneath his touch.

"You. Are. Going. To. Have. To. Learn. To. Keep. Still," he whispers, kissing me around my nape between each word.

He tugs at the fastening at the halter neck, and the dress drops and pools at my feet.

"No bra, Miss Steele. I like that."

His hands reach round and cup my breasts, and my nipples pucker at his touch.

"Lift your arms and put them around my head," he murmurs against my neck.

I obey immediately, and my breasts rise and push into his hands, my nipples hardening further. My fingers weave into his hair, and very gently I tug his soft, sexy hair. I roll my head to one side to give him easier access to my neck.

"Mmm... " he murmurs into that space behind my ear, as he starts to extend my nipples with his long fingers, mirroring my hands in his hair.

I groan as the sensation registers sharp and clear in my groin.

"Shall I make you come this way?" he whispers.

I arch my back to force my breasts into his expert hands.

"You like this, don't you, Miss Steele?"

"Mmm... "

"Tell me." He continues the slow sensuous torture, pulling gently.

"Yes."

"Yes, what."

"Yes... Sir."

"Good girl." He pinches me hard, and my body writhes convulsively against his front.

I gasp at the exquisite, acute, pleasure/pain. I feel him against me. I moan and my hands clench in his hair pulling harder.

"I don't think you're ready to come yet," he whispers, stilling his hands, and he gently bites my earlobe and tugs at it. "Besides, you have displeased me."

Oh... no, what will this mean My brain registers through the fog of needy desire as I groan.

"So perhaps I won't let you come after all." He returns the attention of his fingers to my nipples, pulling, twisting, kneading. I grind my behind against him... moving side to side.

I feel his grin against my neck as his hands move down to my hips. His fingers hook into my panties at the back, stretching them, and he pushes his thumbs through the material, shredding them and tossing them in front of me so I can see ... holy shit. His hands move down to my sex... and from behind, he slowly inserts his finger.

"Oh, yes. My sweet girl is all ready," he breathes as he whirls me round so I'm facing him. His breathing has quickened. He puts his finger in his mouth. "You taste so fine, Miss Steele." He sighs. "Undress me," he commands quietly, staring down at me, eyes hooded.

All I'm wearing is my shoes, well, Kate's high-heeled pumps. I'm taken aback. I've never undressed a man.

"You can do it," he cajoles softly.

Oh my. I blink rapidly. Where to startI reach for his t-shirt, and he grabs my hands and shakes his head, smiling slyly at me.

"Oh no." He shakes his head, grinning. "Not the t-shirt, you may need to touch me for what I have planned." His eyes are alive with excitement.

Oh... this is news... I can touch with clothes. He takes one of my hands and places it against his erection.

"This is the effect you have on me, Miss Steele."

I gasp and flex my fingers around his girth, and he grins.

"I want to be inside you. Take my jeans off. You're in charge."

Holy f*ck... me in charge. My mouth drops open.

"What are you going to do with me?" he teases.

Oh the possibilities... my inner goddess roars, and from somewhere born of frustration, need, and sheer Steele bravery, I push him on to the bed. He laughs as he falls, and I gaze down at him feeling victorious. My inner goddess is going to explode. I yank off his shoes, quickly, clumsily, and his socks. He's staring up at me, his eyes luminous with amusement and desire. He looks... glorious... mine. I crawl up the bed and sit astride him to undo his jeans, sliding my fingers under the waistband, feeling the hair in his oh so happy trail. He closes his eyes and flexes his hips.

"You'll have to learn to keep still," I scold, and I tug at the hair under his waistband.

His breath hitches, and he grins at me.

"Yes, Miss Steele," he murmurs, eyes burning bright. "In my pocket, condom," he breathes.

I search in his pocket slowly, watching his face as I feel around. His mouth is open. I fish out both foil packets that I find and lay them on the bed by his hips. Two! My over-eager fingers reach for the button of his waistband and undo it, fumbling a little. I am beyond excited.

"So eager, Miss Steele," he murmurs, his voice laced with humor. I tug down the zipper, and now I'm faced with the problem of removing his pants... hmm. I shuffle down and pull. They hardly move. I frown. How can this be so difficult?

"I can't keep still if you're going to bite that lip," he warns, then arches his pelvis up off the bed so I'm able to tug down his trousers and his boxers at the same time, whoa...

freeing him. He kicks his clothes to the floor.

Holy Moses, he's all mine to play with, and suddenly it's Christmas.

"Now what are you going to do?" he breathes, all trace of humor gone. I reach up and touch him, watching his expression as I do. His mouth shapes like a letter O as he takes a sharp breath. His skin is so smooth and soft... and hard... hmm, what a delicious combination. I lean forward, my hair falling around me, and he's in my mouth. I suck, hard. He closes his eyes, his hips jerking beneath me.

"Jeez, Ana, steady," he groans.

I feel so powerful, it's such a heady feeling, teasing and testing him with my mouth and tongue. He tenses underneath me as I run my mouth up and down him, pushing him to the back of my throat, my lips tight... again and again.

"Stop, Ana, stop. I don't want to come."

I sit up, blinking at him, and I'm panting like him, but confused. I thought I was in charge My inner goddess looks like someone snatched her ice cream.

"You're innocence and enthusiasm is very disarming," he gasps. "You, on top... that's what we need to do."

Oh.

"Here, put this on." He hands me a foil packet.

Holy Crap. How I rip the packet open, and the rubbery condom is all tacky in my fingers.

"Pinch the top and then roll it down. You don't want any air in the end of that sucker,"

he pants.

And very slowly, concentrating hard, I do as I'm told.

"Christ, you're killing me here, Anastasia," he groans.

I admire my handiwork and him. He really is a fine specimen of a man, looking at him is very, very arousing.

"Now. I want to be buried inside you," he murmurs. I stare down at him, daunted, and he sits up suddenly, so we're nose to nose.

"Like this," he breathes, and he snakes one hand round my hips, lifting me slightly, and with the other he positions himself beneath me, and very slowly, eases me on to him.

I groan as he stretches me open, filling me, my mouth hanging open in surprise at the sweet, sublime, agonizing, over-full feeling. Oh... please.

"That's right, baby, feel me, all of me," he growls and briefly closes his eyes.

And he's inside me, sheathed to the hilt, and he holds me in place, for seconds... minutes... I have no idea,, staring intently into my eyes.

"It's deep this way," he murmurs. He flexes and swivels his hips in the same motion, and I groan... oh my - the sensation radiates throughout my belly... everywhere. F*ck!

"Again," I whisper. He grins a lazy grin and obliges.

Moaning, I throw my head back, my hair tumbling down my back, and very slowly, he sinks back down on to the bed.

"You move, Anastasia, up and down, how you want. Take my hands," he breathes, his voice hoarse and low and oh so sexy.

I clasp his hands, holding on for life. Gently I push off him and back down, oh my. His eyes are burning with wild anticipation. His breathing is ragged, matching mine, and he lifts his pelvis as I come down, bouncing me back up. We pick up the rhythm... up, down, up, down... over and over... and it feels so... good. Between my panting breaths, the deep down, brimming fullness... the vehement sensation pulsing through me that's building quickly, I watch him, our eyes locked... and I see wonder there, wonder at me.

I am f*cking him. I am in charge. He's mine, and I'm his. The thought pushes me, weighted with concrete, over the edge, and I climax around him... shouting incoherently.

He grabs my hips, and closing his eyes, tipping his head back, his jaw strained, he comes quietly. I collapse on to his chest, overwhelmed, somewhere between fantasy and reality, a place where there are no hard or soft limits.

Slowly the outside world invades my senses, and oh my, what an invasion. I am floating, my limbs soft and languid, utterly spent. I'm lying on top of him, my head on his chest, and he smells divine: fresh, laundered linen and some expensive body wash, and the best, most seductive scent on the planet... Christian. I don't want to move, I want to breathe this elixir for eternity. I nuzzle him, wishing I didn't have the barrier of his t-shirt. And as rhyme and reason return to the rest of my body, I stretch my hand out on his chest. This is the first time I've touched him here. He's firm... strong. His hand swoops up and grabs mine, but he softens the blow by pulling it to his mouth and sweetly kissing my knuckles.

He rolls over so he's gazing down at me.

"Don't," he murmurs, then kisses me lightly.

"Why don't you like to be touched?" I whisper, staring up into soft gray eyes.

"Because I'm fifty shades of f*cked-up, Anastasia."

Oh... his honesty is completely disarming. I blink up at him.

"I had a very tough introduction to life. I don't want to burden you with the details.

Just don't." He strokes his nose against mine, and then he pulls out of me and sits up.

"I think that's all the very basics covered. How was that?"

He looks thoroughly pleased with himself and sounds very matter-of-fact at the same time, like he's just marked another tick box in a checklist. I'm still reeling from the tough introduction to life comment. It's so frustrating - I am desperate to know more. But he won't tell me. I cock my head to one side, like he does, and make an enormous effort to smile at him.

"If you imagine for one minute that I think you ceded control to me, well you haven't taken into account my GPA." I smile shyly at him. "But thank you for the illusion."

"Miss Steele, you are not just a pretty face. You've had six orgasms so far and all of them belong to me," he boasts, playful again.

I flush and blink at the same time, as he stares down at me. He's keeping count! His brow furrows.

"Do you have something to tell me?" his voice is suddenly stern.

I frown . Crap.

"I had a dream this morning."

"Oh?" He glares at me.

Double crap. Am I in trouble?

"I came in my sleep." I throw my arm over my eyes. He says nothing. I peek up at him from under my arm, and he looks amused.

"In your sleep?"

"Woke me up."

"I'm sure it did. What were you dreaming about?"

Crap.

"You."

"What was I doing?"

I throw my arm over my eyes again. And like a small child, I briefly entertain the thought that if I can't see him, then he can't see me.

"Anastasia, what was I doingI won't ask you again."

"You had a riding crop."

He moves my arm.

"Really?"

"Yes." I am crimson.

"There's hope for you yet," he murmurs. "I have several riding crops."

"Brown plaited leather?"

He laughs.

"No, but I'm sure I could get one." His gray eyes blaze with excitement.

Leaning down, he gives me a brief kiss then stands and grabs his boxers, oh no... he's going. I glance quickly at the time - it's only nine-forty. I scoot out of bed too and grab my sweat pants and a cami top, then sit back on the bed, cross-legged, watching him. I don't want him to go. What can I do?

"When is your period due?" He interrupts my thoughts.

What!

"I hate wearing these things," he grumbles. He holds up the condom, then puts it on the floor, and slips on his jeans.

"Well?" he prompts when I don't reply, and he looks at me expectantly as if he's waiting for my opinion on the weather. Holy crap... this is personal stuff.

"Next week." I stare down at my hands.

"You need to sort out some contraception."

He is so bossy. I stare at him blankly. He sits back on the bed as he puts on his shoes and socks.

"Do you have a doctor?"

I shake my head. We are back to mergers and acquisitions - another 180-degree mood swing.

He frowns.

"I can have mine come and see you at your apartment - Sunday morning before you come and see me. Or he can see you at my place. Which would you prefer?"

No pressure then. Something else that he's paying for... but actually this is for his benefit.

"Your place." That means I am guaranteed to see him Sunday.

"Okay. I'll let you know the time."

"Are you leaving?"

Don't go... stay with me please.

"Yes."

Why?

"How are you getting back?" I whisper.

"Taylor will pick me up."

"I can drive you. I have a lovely new car."

He gazes at me, his expression warm.

"That's more like it. But I think you've had too much to drink."

"Did you get me tipsy on purpose?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you over-think everything, and you're reticent like your stepdad. A drop of wine in you and you start talking, and I need you to communicate honestly with me. Otherwise you clam up, and I have no idea what you're thinking. In vino veritas, Anastasia."

"And you think you're always honest with me?"

"I endeavor to be." He looks down at me warily. "This will only work if we're honest with each other."

"I'd like you to stay and use this." I hold up the second condom.

He smiles and his eyes glow with humor.

"Anastasia, I have crossed so many lines here tonight. I have to go. I'll see you on Sunday. I'll have the revised contract ready for you, and then we can really start to play."

"Play?" Holy shit. My heart leaps into my mouth.

"I'd like to do a scene with you. But I won't until you've signed, so I know you're ready."

"Oh. So I could stretch this out, if I don't sign?"

He gazes at me assessing, and then his lips twitch into a smile.

"Well, I suppose you could, but I may crack under the strain."

"CrackHow?" My inner goddess has woken and is paying attention.

He nods slowly, and then he grins, teasing.

"Could get really ugly."

His grin is infectious.

"Ugly, how?"

"Oh you know, explosions, car chases, kidnapping, incarceration."

"You'd kidnap me?"

"Oh yes," he grins.

"Hold me against my will?" Jeez this is hot.

"Oh yes," he nods. "And then we're talking TPE 24/7."

"You've lost me," I breathe, my heart is pounding... is he serious?

"Total Power Exchange - round the clock." His eyes are shining, and I can feel his excitement from where I sit.

Holy shit.

"So you have no choice," he says sardonically.

"Clearly." I can't keep the sarcasm out of my voice as my eyes reach for the heavens.

"Oh, Anastasia Steele, did you just roll your eyes at me?"

Crap.

"No," I squeak.

"I think you did. What did I say I'd do to you if you rolled your eyes at me again?"

Shit. He sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Come here," he says softly.

I blanch. Jeez... he's serious. I sit staring at him completely immobile.

"I haven't signed," I whisper.

"I told you what I'd do. I'm a man of my word. I'm going to spank you, and then I'm going to f*ck you very quick and very hard. Looks like we'll need that condom after all."

His voice is so soft, menacing, and it's damned hot. My insides practically contort with potent, needy, liquid, desire. He gazes at me, waiting, eyes blazing. Tentatively, I uncurl my legs. Should I run This is it, our relationship hangs in the balance, right here, right now. Do I let him do this or do I say no, and then that's itBecause I know it will be over if I say no. Do it! My inner goddess pleads with me, my subconscious is as paralyzed as I am."I'm waiting," he says. "I'm not a patient man."

Oh for the love of all that's holy. I'm panting, afraid, turned on. Blood pounding through my body, my legs are like jelly. Slowly, I crawl over to him until I am beside him.

"Good girl," he murmurs. "Now stand up."

Oh shit... can't he just get this over withI'm not sure if I can stand. Hesitantly, I clamber to my feet. He holds his hand out, and I place the condom in his palm. Suddenly he grabs me, tipping me across his lap. With one smooth movement, he angles his body so my torso is resting on the bed beside him. He throws his right leg over both of mine and plants his left forearm on the small of my back, holding me down so I cannot move. Oh f*ck. "Put your hands up on either side of your head," he orders.

I obey immediately.

"Why am I doing this, Anastasia?" he asks.

"Because I rolled my eyes at you," I can barely speak.

"Do you think that's polite?"

"No."

"Will you do it again?"

"No."

"I will spank you each time you do it, do you understand?"

Very slowly, he pulls down my sweatpants. Oh, how demeaning is this, demeaning and scary and hot. He's making such a meal of this. My heart is in my mouth. I can barely breathe. Shit, is this going to hurt?

He places his hand on my naked behind, softly fondling me, stroking round and round with his flat palm. And then his hand is no longer there... and he hits me - hard. Ow! My eyes spring open in response to the pain, and I try to rise, but his hand moves between my shoulder blades keeping me down. He caresses me again where he's hit me, and his breathing's changed - it's louder, harsher. He hits me again and again, quickly in succession.

Holy f*ck it hurts. I make no sound, my face screwed up against the pain. I try and wriggle away from the blows - spurred on by adrenaline spiking and coursing through my body.

"Keep still," he growls. "Or I'll spank you for longer."

He's rubbing me now, and the blow follows. A rhythmic pattern emerges, caress, fondle, slap hard. I have to concentrate to handle this pain. My mind empties as I endeavor to absorb the grueling sensation. He doesn't hit me in the same place twice in succession

- he's spreading the pain.

"Aargh!" I cry out on the tenth slap - and I'm unaware that I have been mentally counting the blows.

"I'm just getting warmed up."

He hits me again then he strokes me softly. The combination of the hard stinging blow and his gentle caress is so mind numbing. He hits me again... this is getting harder to take.

My face hurts, it's screwed up so tight. He strokes me gently and then the blow comes. I cry out again.

"No one to hear you, baby, just me."

And he hits me again and again. From somewhere deep inside, I want to beg him to stop. But I don't. I don't want to give him the satisfaction. He continues the unrelenting rhythm. I cry out six more times. Eighteen slaps in total. My body is singing, singing from his merciless assault.

"Enough," he breathes hoarsely. "Well done, Anastasia. Now I'm going to f*ck you."

He caresses my behind gently, and it burns as he strokes me round and round and down. Suddenly, he inserts two fingers inside me, taking me completely by surprise. I gasp, this new assault breaking through the numbness around my brain.

"Feel this. See how much your body likes this, Anastasia. You're soaking just for me."