“What are your rules that I have to follow?”
“I have them written down. We’ll go through them once we’ve eaten.”
“I’m really not hungry,” she whispers.
“You will eat.”
The look she gives me is defiant.
“Would you like another glass of wine?” I ask, as a peace offering.
“Yes, please.”
I pour wine into her glass and sit down beside her. “Help yourself to food, Anastasia.”
She takes a few grapes.
That’s it? That’s all you’re eating?
“Have you been like this for a while?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Is it easy to find women who want to do this?”
Oh, if you only knew. “You’d be amazed.” My tone is wry.
“Then why me? I really don’t understand.” She’s utterly bemused.
Baby, you’re beautiful. Why wouldn’t I want to do this with you?
“Anastasia, I’ve told you. There’s something about you. I can’t leave you alone. I’m like a moth to a flame. I want you very badly, especially now, when you’re biting your lip again.”
“I think you have that cliché the wrong way around,” she says softly, and it’s a disturbing confession.
“Eat!” I order, to change the subject.
“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.”
Oh…her smart mouth.
“As you wish, Miss Steele.” And I hide my smirk.
“How many women?” she asks, and she pops a grape into that mouth.
“Fifteen.” I have to look away.
“For long periods of time?”
“Some of them, yes.”
“Have you ever hurt anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Badly?”
“No.” Dawn was fine, if a little shaken by the experience. And if I’m honest, so was I.
“Will you hurt me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Physically, will you hurt me?”
Only what you can take.
“I will punish you when you require it, and it will be painful.”
For example, when you get drunk and put yourself at risk.
“Have you ever been beaten?” she asks.
“Yes.”
Many, many times. Elena was devilishly handy with a cane. It’s the only touch I could tolerate.
Her eyes widen and she puts the uneaten grapes on her plate and takes another sip of wine. Her lack of appetite is irritating and is affecting mine. Perhaps I should just bite the bullet and show her the rules.
“Let’s discuss this in my study. I want to show you something.”
She follows me and sits in the leather chair in front of my desk as I lean against it, arms folded.
This is what she wants to know. It’s a blessing that she’s curious—she hasn’t run yet. From the contract laid out on my desk I take one of the pages and hand it to her. “These are the rules. They may be subject to change. They form part of the contract, which you can also have. Read these rules and let’s discuss.”
Her eyes scan the page. “Hard limits?” she asks.
“Yes. What you won’t do, what I won’t do, we need to specify in our agreement.”
“I’m not sure about accepting money for clothes. It feels wrong.”
“I want to lavish money on you. Let me buy you some clothes. I may need you to accompany me to functions.”
Grey, what are you saying? This would be a first. “And I want you dressed well. I’m sure your salary, when you do get a job, won’t cover the kind of clothes I’d like you to wear.”
“I don’t have to wear them when I’m not with you?”
“No.”
“Okay. I don’t want to exercise four times a week.”
“Anastasia, I need you supple, strong, and with stamina. Trust me, you need to exercise.”
“But surely not four times a week. How about three?”
“I want you to do four.”
“I thought this was a negotiation?”
Again, she’s disarming, calling me out on my shit. “Okay, Miss Steele, another point well made. How about an hour on three days and one day half an hour?”
“Three days, three hours. I get the impression you’re going to keep me exercised when I’m here.”
Oh, I hope so.
“Yes, I am. Okay, agreed. Are you sure you don’t want to intern at my company? You’re a good negotiator.”
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Of course she’s right. And it’s my number-one rule: never fuck the staff.
“So, limits. These are mine.” I hand her the list.
This is it, shit-or-bust time. I know my limits by heart, and mentally tick off the list as I watch her read through. Her face grows paler and paler as she nears the end.
Fuck, I hope this isn’t frightening her off.
I want her. I want her submission…badly. She swallows, glancing nervously up at me. How can I persuade her to give this a try? I should reassure her, show her that I’m capable of caring.
“Is there anything you’d like to add?”
Deep down I hope she won’t add anything. I want carte blanche with her. She stares at me, still at a loss for words. It’s irritating. I’m not used to waiting for answers. “Is there anything you won’t do?” I prompt.
“I don’t know.”
Not the response I was expecting.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
She shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable, her teeth toying with her bottom lip. Again. “I’ve never done anything like this.”
Hell, of course she hasn’t.
Patience, Grey. For fuck’s sake. You’ve thrown a great deal of information at her. I continue my gentle approach. It’s novel.
“Well, when you’ve had sex, was there anything that you didn’t like doing?” And I’m reminded of the photographer fumbling all over her yesterday.
She flushes and my interest is piqued. What has she done that she didn’t like? Is she adventurous in bed? She seems so—innocent. Normally I don’t find that attractive.
“You can tell me, Anastasia. We have to be honest with each other or this isn’t going to work.” I really have to encourage her to loosen up—she won’t even talk about sex. She’s squirming again and staring at her fingers.
“I have them written down. We’ll go through them once we’ve eaten.”
“I’m really not hungry,” she whispers.
“You will eat.”
The look she gives me is defiant.
“Would you like another glass of wine?” I ask, as a peace offering.
“Yes, please.”
I pour wine into her glass and sit down beside her. “Help yourself to food, Anastasia.”
She takes a few grapes.
That’s it? That’s all you’re eating?
“Have you been like this for a while?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Is it easy to find women who want to do this?”
Oh, if you only knew. “You’d be amazed.” My tone is wry.
“Then why me? I really don’t understand.” She’s utterly bemused.
Baby, you’re beautiful. Why wouldn’t I want to do this with you?
“Anastasia, I’ve told you. There’s something about you. I can’t leave you alone. I’m like a moth to a flame. I want you very badly, especially now, when you’re biting your lip again.”
“I think you have that cliché the wrong way around,” she says softly, and it’s a disturbing confession.
“Eat!” I order, to change the subject.
“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.”
Oh…her smart mouth.
“As you wish, Miss Steele.” And I hide my smirk.
“How many women?” she asks, and she pops a grape into that mouth.
“Fifteen.” I have to look away.
“For long periods of time?”
“Some of them, yes.”
“Have you ever hurt anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Badly?”
“No.” Dawn was fine, if a little shaken by the experience. And if I’m honest, so was I.
“Will you hurt me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Physically, will you hurt me?”
Only what you can take.
“I will punish you when you require it, and it will be painful.”
For example, when you get drunk and put yourself at risk.
“Have you ever been beaten?” she asks.
“Yes.”
Many, many times. Elena was devilishly handy with a cane. It’s the only touch I could tolerate.
Her eyes widen and she puts the uneaten grapes on her plate and takes another sip of wine. Her lack of appetite is irritating and is affecting mine. Perhaps I should just bite the bullet and show her the rules.
“Let’s discuss this in my study. I want to show you something.”
She follows me and sits in the leather chair in front of my desk as I lean against it, arms folded.
This is what she wants to know. It’s a blessing that she’s curious—she hasn’t run yet. From the contract laid out on my desk I take one of the pages and hand it to her. “These are the rules. They may be subject to change. They form part of the contract, which you can also have. Read these rules and let’s discuss.”
Her eyes scan the page. “Hard limits?” she asks.
“Yes. What you won’t do, what I won’t do, we need to specify in our agreement.”
“I’m not sure about accepting money for clothes. It feels wrong.”
“I want to lavish money on you. Let me buy you some clothes. I may need you to accompany me to functions.”
Grey, what are you saying? This would be a first. “And I want you dressed well. I’m sure your salary, when you do get a job, won’t cover the kind of clothes I’d like you to wear.”
“I don’t have to wear them when I’m not with you?”
“No.”
“Okay. I don’t want to exercise four times a week.”
“Anastasia, I need you supple, strong, and with stamina. Trust me, you need to exercise.”
“But surely not four times a week. How about three?”
“I want you to do four.”
“I thought this was a negotiation?”
Again, she’s disarming, calling me out on my shit. “Okay, Miss Steele, another point well made. How about an hour on three days and one day half an hour?”
“Three days, three hours. I get the impression you’re going to keep me exercised when I’m here.”
Oh, I hope so.
“Yes, I am. Okay, agreed. Are you sure you don’t want to intern at my company? You’re a good negotiator.”
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Of course she’s right. And it’s my number-one rule: never fuck the staff.
“So, limits. These are mine.” I hand her the list.
This is it, shit-or-bust time. I know my limits by heart, and mentally tick off the list as I watch her read through. Her face grows paler and paler as she nears the end.
Fuck, I hope this isn’t frightening her off.
I want her. I want her submission…badly. She swallows, glancing nervously up at me. How can I persuade her to give this a try? I should reassure her, show her that I’m capable of caring.
“Is there anything you’d like to add?”
Deep down I hope she won’t add anything. I want carte blanche with her. She stares at me, still at a loss for words. It’s irritating. I’m not used to waiting for answers. “Is there anything you won’t do?” I prompt.
“I don’t know.”
Not the response I was expecting.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
She shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable, her teeth toying with her bottom lip. Again. “I’ve never done anything like this.”
Hell, of course she hasn’t.
Patience, Grey. For fuck’s sake. You’ve thrown a great deal of information at her. I continue my gentle approach. It’s novel.
“Well, when you’ve had sex, was there anything that you didn’t like doing?” And I’m reminded of the photographer fumbling all over her yesterday.
She flushes and my interest is piqued. What has she done that she didn’t like? Is she adventurous in bed? She seems so—innocent. Normally I don’t find that attractive.
“You can tell me, Anastasia. We have to be honest with each other or this isn’t going to work.” I really have to encourage her to loosen up—she won’t even talk about sex. She’s squirming again and staring at her fingers.
