Fifty Shades Trilogy 01 - Fifty Shades of Grey

have to decide whether or not to jump.
    “I’m fully aware that this is a dark path I’m leading you down, Anastasia, which is why I really want you to think about this. You must have some questions,” he says as he wanders into the kitchen area, releasing my hand.
    I do. But where to start?
    “You’ve signed your NDA; you can ask me anything you want and I’ll answer.”
    I stand at the breakfast bar watching him as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out a plate of different cheeses with two large bunches of green and red grapes. He sets the plate down on the worktop and proceeds to cut up a French baguette.
    “Sit.” He points to one of the stools at the breakfast bar, and I obey his command. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to have to get used to it. I realize he’s been this bossy since I met him.
    “You mentioned paperwork.”
    “Yes.”
    “What paperwork?”
    “Well, apart from the NDA, a contract saying what we will and won’t do. I need to know your limits, and you need to know mine. This is consensual, Anastasia.”
    “And if I don’t want to do this?”
    “That’s fine,” he says carefully.
    “But we won’t have any sort of relationship?” I ask.
    “No.”
    “Why?”
    “This is the only sort of relationship I’m interesting in.”
    “Why?”
    He shrugs.
    “It’s the way I am.”
    “How did you become this way?”
    “Why is anyone the way they are? That’s kind of hard to answer. Why do some people like cheese and other people hate it? Do you like cheese? Mrs. Jones – my housekeeper – has left this for supper.” He takes some large, white plates from a cupboard and places one in front of me.
    We’re talking about cheese… Holy crap.
    “What are your rules that I have to follow?”
    “I have them written down. We’ll go through them once we’ve eaten.”
    Food. How can I eat now?
    “I’m really not hungry,” I whisper.
    “You will eat,” he says simply. Dominating Christian, it all becomes clear. “Would you like another glass of wine?”
    “Yes, please.”
    He pours wine into my glass and comes to sit beside me. I take a hasty sip.
    “Help yourself to food, Anastasia.”
    I take a small bunch of grapes. This I can manage. He narrows his eyes.
    “Have you been like this for a while?” I ask.
    “Yes.”
    “Is it easy to find women who want to do this?”
    He raises an eyebrow at me.
    “You’d be amazed,” he says dryly.
    “Then why me? I really don’t understand.”
    “Anastasia, I’ve told you. There’s something about you. I can’t leave you alone.” He smiles ironically. “I’m like a moth to a flame.” His voice darkens. “I want you very badly, especially now, when you’re biting your lip again.” He takes a deep breath and swallows.
    My stomach somersaults – he wants me… in a weird way, true, but this beautiful, strange, kinky man wants me.
    “I think you have that cliché the wrong way round.” I grumble. I am the moth and he is the flame, and I’m going to get burnt. I know.
    “Eat!”
    “No. I haven’t signed anything yet, so I think I’ll hang on to my free will for a bit longer, if that’s okay with you.”
    His eyes soften, and his lips turn up in a smile.
    “As you wish, Miss Steele.”
    “How many women?” I blurt out the question, but I’m so curious.
    “Fifteen.”
    Oh… not as many as I thought.
    “For long periods of time?”
    “Some of them, yes.”
    “Have you ever hurt anyone?”
    “Yes.”
    Holy shit.
    “Badly?”
    “No.”
    “Will you hurt me?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Physically, will you hurt me?”
    “I will punish you when you require it, and it will be painful.”
    I think I feel a little faint. I take another sip of wine. Alcohol - this will make me brave.
    “Have you ever been beaten?” I ask.
    “Yes.”
    Oh… that surprises me. Before I can question him on this revelation further, he interrupts my train of thought.
    “Let’s discuss this in my study. I want to show you something.”
    This is so hard to process. Here I was foolishly thinking that I’d spend a night of unparalleled passion in this man’s bed, and we’re negotiating this weird arrangement.
    I follow him into his study, a spacious room with another floor-to-ceiling window that opens out on to the balcony. He sits on the desk, motions for me to sit on a leather chair in front of him, and hands me a piece of paper.
    “These are the rules. They may be subject to change. They form part of the contract,