Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian(54)
Author: E.L. James

“I hope you like fish,” I say, as he places our food before us. The black cod looks delicious. Ana takes a bite.

Finally, she’s eating!

“The rules,” I continue. “Let’s talk about them. The food is a deal breaker?”

“Yes.”

“Can I modify to say that you will eat at least three meals a day?”

“No.”

Suppressing an irritated sigh, I persist. “I need to know that you’re not hungry.”

She frowns. “You’ll have to trust me.”

“Oh, touché, Miss Steele,” I mutter to myself. These are battles I’m not going to win. “I concede the food and the sleep.”

She gives me a small, relieved smile. “Why can’t I look at you?” she asks.

“That’s a Dom/sub thing. You’ll get used to it.”

She frowns once more, but looks pained this time. “Why can’t I touch you?” she asks.

“Because you can’t.”

Shut her down, Grey.

“Is it because of Mrs. Robinson?”

What? “Why would you think that? You think she traumatized me?”

She nods.

“No, Anastasia. She’s not the reason. Besides, Mrs. Robinson wouldn’t take any of that shit from me.”

“So nothing to do with her,” she asks, looking confused.

“No.”

I can’t bear to be touched. And, baby, you really don’t want to know why.

“And I don’t want you touching yourself, either,” I add.

“Out of curiosity, why?”

“Because I want all your pleasure.”

In fact, I want it now. I could fuck her here to see if she can be quiet. Real quiet, knowing we’re within earshot of the hotel staff and guests. After all, that’s why I’ve booked this room.

She opens her mouth as if to say something, but closes it again and takes another bite of food from her largely untouched plate. “I’ve given you a great deal to think about, haven’t I?” I say, folding up her e-mail and tucking it into my inside pocket.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to go through the soft limits now, too?”

“Not over dinner.”

“Squeamish?”

“Something like that.”

“You’ve not eaten very much.”

“I’ve had enough.”

This is getting old. “Three oysters, four bites of cod, and one asparagus stalk, no potatoes, no nuts, no olives, and you’ve not eaten all day. You said I could trust you.”

Her eyes widen.

Yeah. I’ve been keeping count, Ana.

“Christian, please, it’s not every day I sit through conversations like this.”

“I need you fit and healthy, Anastasia.” My tone is adamant.

“I know.”

“And right now, I want to peel you out of that dress.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she whispers. “We haven’t had dessert.”

“You want dessert?” When you haven’t eaten your main course?

“Yes.”

“You could be dessert.”

“I’m not sure I’m sweet enough.”

“Anastasia, you’re deliciously sweet. I know.”

“Christian. You use sex as a weapon. It really isn’t fair.” She looks down at her lap, and her voice is low and a little melancholy. She looks up again, pinning me with an intense stare, her powder-blue eyes unnerving…and arousing.

“You’re right. I do,” I admit. “In life you use what you know. Doesn’t change how much I want you. Here. Now.” And we could fuck here, right now. I know you’re interested, Ana. I hear how your breathing has changed. “I’d like to try something.” I really want to know how quiet she can be, and if she can do this with the fear of discovery.

Her brow creases once more; she’s confused.

“If you were my sub, you wouldn’t have to think about this. It would be easy. All those decisions—all the wearying thought processes behind them. The ‘Is this the right thing to do? Should this happen here? Can it happen now?’ You wouldn’t have to worry about any of that detail. That’s what I’d do as your Dom. And right now, I know you want me, Anastasia.”

She tosses her hair over her shoulder, and her frown intensifies as she licks her lips.

Oh yes. She wants me.

“I can tell because your body gives you away. You’re pressing your thighs together, you’re flushed, and your breathing has changed.”

“How do you know about my thighs?” she asks, her voice high-pitched, shocked, I think.

“I felt the tablecloth move, and it’s a calculated guess based on years of experience. I’m right, aren’t I?”

She’s quiet for a moment and looks away. “I haven’t finished my cod,” she says, evasive but still blushing.

“You’d prefer cold cod to me?”

Her eyes meet mine, and they’re wide, pupils dark and large. “I thought you liked me to clear my plate.”

“Right now, Miss Steele, I couldn’t give a fuck about your food.”

“Christian. You just don’t fight fair.”

“I know. I never have.”

We stare at each other in a battle of wills, both aware of the sexual tension stretching between us across the table.

Please, would you just do as you’re told? I implore her with a look. But her eyes glint with sensual disobedience and a smile lifts her lips. Still holding my stare, she picks up an asparagus spear and deliberately bites her lip.

What is she doing?

Very slowly, she places the tip of the spear in her mouth and sucks it.

Fuck.

She’s trifling with me—a dangerous tactic that will have me fucking her over this table.

Oh, bring it on, Miss Steele.

I watch, mesmerized, hardening by the second.

“Anastasia. What are you doing?” I warn.

“Eating my asparagus,” she says with a coy smile.

“I think you’re toying with me, Miss Steele.”

“I’m just finishing my food, Mr. Grey.” Her lips curl wider, slowly, carnal, and the heat between us rises several degrees. She really has no idea how sexy she is…I’m about to pounce when the waiter knocks and enters.

Damn it.

I let him clear the plates, then turn my attention back to Miss Steele. But her frown is back, and she’s fidgeting with her fingers.

Hell.