Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

squint.
    “Jesus, Ana,” he mutters. He flicks the switch off again and is at my side in a moment.
    “What are you doing here?” I gasp between sobs. Crap. I can’t stop crying.
    He switches on the sidelight, making me squint again. Kate comes and stands in the doorway.
    “Do you want me to throw this asshole out?” she asks, radiating thermonuclear hostility.
    Christian raises his eyebrows at her, no doubt surprised by her flattering epithet and her feral antagonism. I shake my head, and she rolls her eyes at me. Oh… I wouldn’t do that near Mr. G.
    “Just holler if you need me,” she says more gently. “Grey – your cards are marked,” she hisses at him. He nods at her, and she turns and pulls the door to but doesn’t close it.
    Christian gazes down at me, his expression grave, his face ashen. He’s wearing his pinstriped jacket, and from his inside pocket he pulls out a handkerchief and hands it to me. I think I still have his other one somewhere.
    “What’s going on?” he asks quietly.
    “Why are you here?” I ask, ignoring his question. My tears have miraculously ceased, but I’m left with dry heaves racking my body.
    “Part of my role is to look after your needs. You said you wanted me to stay, so here I am. And yet I find you like this.” He blinks at me, truly bewildered. “I’m sure I’m responsible, but I have no idea why. Is it because I hit you?”
    I pull myself up, wincing from my sore behind. I sit and face him.
    “Did you take some Advil?”
    I shake my head. He narrows his eyes, stands, and leaves the room. I hear him talking to Kate but not what they are saying. He’s back a few moments later with pills and a teacup of water.
    “Take these,” he orders gently as he sits on my bed beside me.
    I do as I’m told.
    “Talk to me,” he whispers. “You told me you were okay. I’d never have left you if I thought you were like this.”
    I stare down at my hands. What can I say that I haven’t said already? I want more. I want him to stay because he wants to stay with me, not because I’m a blubbering mess, and I don’t want him to beat me, is that so unreasonable?
    “I take it that when you said you were okay, you weren’t.”
    I flush.
    “I thought I was fine.”
    “Anastasia, you can’t tell me what you think I want to hear. That’s not very honest,” he admonishes me. “How can I trust anything you’ve said to me?”
    I peek up at him, and he’s frowning, a bleak look in his eye. He runs both hands through his hair.
    “How did you feel while I was hitting you and after?”
    “I didn’t like it. I’d rather you didn’t do it again.”
    “You weren’t meant to like it.”
    “Why do you like it?” I stare up at him.
    My question surprises him.
    “You really want to know?”
    “Oh, trust me, I’m fascinated.” And I can’t quite keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
    He narrows his eyes again.
    “Careful,” he warns.
    I blanch.
    “Are you going to hit me again?” I challenge.
    “No, not tonight.”
    Phew... my subconscious and I both breathe a silent sigh of relief.
    “So,” I prompt.
    “I like the control it brings me, Anastasia. I want you to behave in a particular way and if you don’t, I shall punish you, and you will learn to behave the way I desire. I enjoy punishing you. I’ve wanted to spank you since you asked me if I was gay.”
    I flush at the memory. Jeez, I wanted to spank myself after that question. So Katherine Kavanagh is responsible for all this, and if she’d gone to that interview and asked her gay question, she’d be sitting here with the sore ass. I don’t like that thought. How confusing is this?
    “So you don’t like the way I am.”
    He stares at me, bewildered again.
    “I think you’re lovely the way you are.”
    “So why are you trying to change me?”
    “I don’t want to change you. I’d like you to be courteous and to follow the set of rules I’ve given you and not defy me. Simple,” he says.
    “But you want to punish me?”
    “Yes I do.”
    “That’s what I don’t understand.”
    He sighs and runs his hands through his hair again.
    “It’s the way I’m made, Anastasia. I need to control you. I need you to behave in a certain way, and if you don’t – I love to watch your beautiful alabaster skin pink and warm up under my hands. It turns me on.”
    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