Darker (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #2)

“I feel like I’m trespassing. And you’re always mad at me.”

Am I? “Yes, you’re trespassing, but I’m not mad. I hope that one day you’ll live with me here, and all this”—I wave my hand around the room—“will be yours, too. That’s why I was in here today. Trying to decide what to do.” I watch her expression, thinking about what she’s just said. I’m mostly angry at myself, not her. “Am I angry with you all the time? I wasn’t this morning.”

She smiles. “You were playful. I like playful Christian.”

“Do you, now?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and returning her smile. I love her compliments.

“What’s this?” She holds up the toy she’s been examining.

“Always hungry for information, Miss Steele. That’s a butt plug.”

“Oh.” She looks surprised.

“Bought for you.”

“For me?”

I nod.

“You buy new, er…toys…for each submissive?”

“Some things. Yes.”

“Butt plugs?”

Definitely. “Yes.”

She eyes it warily and places it back in the drawer.

“And this?” She waves some anal beads at me.

“Anal beads.”

She runs them through her fingers—intrigued, I think.

“They have quite an effect if you pull them out mid-orgasm,” I add.

“This is for me?” she asks, referring to the beads. She keeps her voice low, as if she doesn’t want to be overheard.

“For you.”

“This is the butt drawer?”

I stifle my chuckle. “If you like.”

She turns a lovely shade of pink and closes it.

“Don’t you like the butt drawer?” I tease.

“It’s not top of my Christmas-card list.”

There’s her smart mouth. She opens the second drawer. Oh, this will be fun. “Next drawer down holds a selection of vibrators.”

She shuts it quickly. “And the next?”

“That’s more interesting.”

Slowly she opens the next one down. She picks out a toy and shows it to me.

“Genital clamp.” Hastily, she puts it back in the drawer and chooses something else. I remember they were a hard limit for her. “Some of these are for pain, but most are for pleasure,” I reassure her.

“What’s this?”

“Nipple clamps—that’s for both.”

“Both? Nipples?”

“Well, there are two clamps, baby. Yes, both nipples, but that’s not what I meant. These are for both pleasure and pain.” I take them from her. “Hold out your little finger.”

She complies, and I clamp the clip to the tip of her finger. Her breath catches. “The sensation is very intense, but it’s when taking them off that they are at their most painful and pleasurable.” She removes the clip. “I like the look of these.” Her voice is now husky, making me smile.

“Do you, now, Miss Steele? I think I can tell.”

She nods and places the clips back in the drawer. I lean forward and remove another set for her consideration.

“These are adjustable.” I hold them up to demonstrate.

“Adjustable?”

“You can wear them very tight, or not. Depending on your mood.”

Her eyes move from the clamp to my face and she licks her lower lip. She pulls out another toy. “This?” She’s intrigued.

“That’s a Wartenberg pinwheel.” I pop the adjustable clamps back in the drawer.

“For?”

I take it from her. “Give me your hand. Palm up.” She does, and I run the spiky wheel over the center of her hand.

“Ah!” She gasps.

“Imagine that over your breasts.”

She snatches her hand away, but the quick fall and rise of her chest reveals her excitement.

This is turning her on.

“There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain, Anastasia.” I place the pinwheel back in the drawer.

She’s looking at the other contents. “Clothespins?”

“You can do a great deal with a clothespin.”

But I don’t think it would be your thing, Ana.

She leans against the drawer, closing it.

“Is that all?” This is turning me on, too—I should take her downstairs.

“No.” She shakes her head, and, opening the fourth drawer, she retrieves one of my favorite devices. “Ball gag. To keep you quiet,” I inform her.

“Soft limit.”

“I remember. But you can still breathe. Your teeth clamp over the ball.” Taking it from her, I demonstrate with my hands how a ball gag fits into a mouth.

“Have you worn one of these?” she asks, curious as ever.

“Yes.”

“To mask your screams?”

“No, that’s not what they’re about.”

She cocks her head to one side, perplexed.

“It’s about control, Anastasia. How helpless would you be if you were tied up and couldn’t speak? How trusting would you have to be, knowing I had that much power over you? That I had to read your body and your reaction rather than hear your words? It makes you more dependent, puts me in ultimate control.”

“You sound like you miss it.” Her voice is barely audible.

“It’s what I know.”

“You have power over me. You know you do.”

“Do I? You make me feel…helpless.”

“No,” she counters, shocked, I think. “Why?”

“Because you’re the only person I know who could really hurt me.”

You hurt me when you left.

I tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Oh, Christian. That works both ways. If you didn’t want me—” A tremor runs through her and she gazes down at her fingers. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I love you.”

She strokes my face with both her hands and I savor her touch. It’s both arousing and comforting. I drop the ball gag back into the drawer and fold her in my arms. “Have we finished show-and-tell?”

“Why? What did you want to do?” Her tone is suggestive.

I kiss her gently and she presses her body against mine, making her intention clear. She wants me. “Ana, you were nearly attacked today.”

“So?” she breathes.

“What do you mean, ‘so’?” I feel a rush of annoyance.

“Christian, I’m fine.”

Are you, Ana?

I pull her closer, squeezing her. “When I think of what might have happened—” I bury my face in her hair and breathe.

“When will you learn that I’m stronger than I look?”

“I know you’re strong.” You put up with me. I kiss her and release her.

She pouts and to my surprise reaches down and fishes out another toy from the drawer. I thought we were done? “That’s a spreader bar with ankle and wrist restraints,” I tell her.

“How does it work?” She looks up at me through her lashes.

Oh, baby. I know that look.

“You want me to show you?” I close my eyes, briefly imagining her shackled and at my mercy. It’s arousing.

Very arousing.

“Yes, I want a demonstration. I like being tied up.”

“Oh, Ana,” I whisper. I want to. But I can’t in here.

“What?”

“Not here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want you in my bed, not in here. Come.” I take the bar and her hand and lead her out of the room.