fifty-shades-of-grey

Holy shit. Now we’re getting somewhere.“So it’s not the pain you’re putting me through?”He swallows.“A bit, to see if you can take it, but that’s not the whole reason. It’s the fact that youare mine to do with as I see fit – ultimate control over someone else. And it turns me on.Big time, Anastasia. Look, I’m not explaining myself very well… I’ve never had to before.I’ve not really thought about this in any great depth. I’ve always been with like-mindedpeople,” he shrugs apologetically. “And you still haven’t answered my question – how didyou feel afterwards?”“Confused.”“You were sexually aroused by it, Anastasia,” he closes his eyes briefly, and when here-opens them and gazes at me, they are smoldering smoky embers.His expression pulls at that dark part of me, buried in the depths of my belly – mylibido, woken and tamed by him, but even now, insatiable.“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs.I frown. Jeez what have I done now?“I don’t have any condoms, Anastasia, and you know, you’re upset. Contrary to whatyour roommate believes, I’m not a priapic monster. So, you felt confused?”I squirm under his intense gaze.“You have no problem being honest with me in print. Your emails always tell meexactly how you feel. Why can’t you do that in conversation? Do I intimidate you thatmuch?”I pick at an imaginary spot on my mother’s blue and cream quilt.“You beguile me, Christian. Completely overwhelm me. I feel like Icarus flying tooclose to the Sun,” I whisper.He gasps.“Well, I think you’ve got that the wrong way around,” he whispers.“What?”“Oh, Anastasia, you’ve bewitched me. Isn’t it obvious?”No, not to me. Bewitched… my inner goddess is staring open-mouthed. Even shedoesn’t believe this.“You’ve still not answered my question. Write me an email, please. But right now, I’dreally like to sleep. Can I stay?”“Do you want to stay?” I can’t hide the hope in my voice.“You wanted me here.”“You haven’t answered my question.”“I’ll write you an email,” he mutters petulantly.Standing, he empties his jeans pockets of BlackBerry, keys, wallet, and money. Holycow, men carry a lot of crap in their pockets. He strips off his watch, his shoes, socks, andjeans and places his jacket over my chair. He walks round to the other side of the bed andslides in.“Lie down,” he orders.I slip slowly under the covers, wincing slightly, staring at him. Jeez… he’s staying. Ithink I’m numb with elated shock. He leans up on one elbow staring down at me.