Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

on legs, and now I have to recover my equilibrium and eat something. The aria is still playing in the background.
    “What’s the music?”
    “ Villa Lobos , an aria from Bachianas Brasileiras. Good, isn’t it?”
    “Yes,” I murmur in total agreement.
    The breakfast bar is laid for two. Christian takes a salad bowl from the fridge.
    “Chicken caesar salad okay with you?”
    Oh thank heavens, nothing too heavy.
    “Yes, fine, thank you.”
    I watch as he moves gracefully through his kitchen. He’s so at ease with his body on one level, but then he doesn’t like to be touched… so maybe deep down he isn’t. No man is an island, I muse – except perhaps Christian Grey.
    “What are you thinking?” he asks, pulling me from my reverie. I flush.
    “I was just watching the way you move.”
    He raises an eyebrow, amused.
    “And?” he says dryly.
    I flush some more.
    “You’re very graceful.”
    “Why thank you, Miss Steele,” he murmurs. He sits down beside me, holding a bottle of wine. “Chablis?”
    “Please.”
    “Help yourself to salad,” he says, his voice soft.
    “Tell me - what method did you opt for?”
    I am momentarily thrown by his question, when I realize he’s talking about Dr. Greene’s visit.
    “Mini pill.”
    He frowns.
    “And will you remember to take it regularly, at the right time, every day?”
    Jeez… of course I will. How does he know? I blush at the thought, probably from one or more of the fifteen.
    “I’m sure you’ll remind me,” I murmur dryly.
    He glances at me with amused condescension.
    “I’ll put an alarm on my calendar.” He smirks. “Eat.”
    The chicken caesar is delicious. To my surprise, I’m famished, and for the first time since I’ve been with him, I finish my meal before he does. The wine is crisp, clean, and fruity.
    “Eager as ever, Miss Steele?” he smiles down at my empty plate.
    I look at him from beneath my lashes.
    “Yes,” I whisper.
    His breath hitches. And as he stares down at me, I feel the atmosphere between us slowly shift, evolve… charge. His look goes from dark to smoldering, taking me with him. He stands, closing the distance between us, and tugs me off my bar stool into his arms.
    “Do you want to do this?” he breathes, looking down at me intently.
    “I haven’t signed anything.”
    “I know – but I’m breaking all the rules these days.”
    “Are you going to hit me?”
    “Yes, but it won’t be to hurt you. I don’t want to punish you right now. If you’d caught me yesterday evening, well, that would have been a different story.”
    Holy cow. He wants to hurt me… how do I deal with this? I can’t hide the horror on my face.
    “Don’t let anyone try and convince you otherwise, Anastasia. One of the reasons people like me do this is because we either like to give or receive pain. It’s very simple. You don’t, so I spent a great deal of time yesterday thinking about that.”
    He pulls me against him, and his erection presses into my belly. I should run, but I can’t. I’m drawn to him on some deep, elemental level that I can’t begin to understand.
    “Did you reach any conclusions?” I whisper.
    “No, and right now, I just want to tie you up and fuck you senseless. Are you ready for that?”
    “Yes,” I breathe as everything in my body tightens at once… wow.
    “Good. Come.” He takes my hand and, leaving all the dirty dishes on the breakfast bar, and we head upstairs.
    My heart starts pounding. This is it. I’m really going to do this. My inner goddess is spinning like a world-class ballerina, pirouette after pirouette. He opens the door to his playroom, standing back for me to walk through, and I am once more in the Red Room of Pain.
    It’s the same, the smell of leather, citrus, polish and dark wood, all very sensual. My blood is running heated and scared through my system – adrenaline mixed with lust and longing. It’s a heady, potent cocktail. Christian’s stance has changed completely, subtly altered, harder and meaner. He gazes down at me and his eyes are heated, lustful… hypnotic.
    “When you’re in here, you are completely mine,” he breathes, each word slow and measured. “To do with as I see fit. Do you understand?”
    His gaze is so intense. I nod, my mouth dry, my heart thumping for a way out of my chest.
    “Take your shoes off,” he orders softly.
    I swallow, and rather clumsily, I take them off. He bends and picks them up and deposits them beside the