Authors: E L James
“Can I help you, Mr. Grey?”
“Please. A dozen Kumamotos, to start. And then two orders of the sea bass with hollandaise sauce and sautéed potatoes. And a side of asparagus.”
“Very good, sir. Would you like anything from the wine list?”
“Not right now. We’ll stick to the champagne.”
The waiter scuttles off and Ana appears, a secret smile playing on her lips.
Oh, Ana.
She wants to play…but I’m not going to touch her. Yet.
I want to drive her crazy.
Standing, I motion to the seat. “Sit beside me.” She slides in and I join her, mindful not to sit too close. “I’ve ordered for you. I hope you don’t mind.” Careful not to touch her fingers with mine, I give her back her glass of champagne.
She fidgets beside me but takes a sip of the Cristal.
The waiter returns with the oysters on ice. “I think you liked oysters last time you tried them.”
“Only time I’ve tried them.” Her breathing stalls. She’s…eager.
“Oh, Miss Steele—when will you learn?” I tease, taking an oyster from the dish. I lift my hand from my thigh and she leans back in anticipation of my touch, but I reach for some lemon.
“Learn what?” she whispers, as I squeeze lemon juice over the shellfish.
“Eat.” I hold the shell up to her mouth. She parts her lips and I rest the shell on her bottom lip. “Tip your head back slowly.”
With a smoldering look, she does as she’s told and I tip the oyster into her mouth. She closes her eyes in appreciation, and I help myself to one.
“Another?” I ask.
She nods, and this time I add a little mignonette sauce, and still I don’t touch her. She swallows and licks her lips.
“Good?”
She nods.
I eat another, then feed her one more.
“Hmm…” she says, and the sound resonates the length of my cock.
“Still like oysters?” I ask, as she swallows the final one.
She nods again.
“Good.”
I place my hands on my thighs, flexing my fingers, and I’m gratified when she shifts beside me. But as much as I want to, I refrain from touching her. The waiter tops off our champagne and clears our plates. Ana squeezes her thighs together and rubs her hands over them. And I think I hear a frustrated sigh.
Oh, baby. Craving my touch?
The waiter returns with our entrées.
Ana eyes me with suspicious recognition as the food is placed on the table. “A favorite of yours, Mr. Grey?”
“Most definitely, Miss Steele. Though I believe it was cod at The Heathman.”
“I seem to remember we were in a private dining room then, discussing contracts.”
“Happy days. This time I hope to get to fuck you.” I reach for my knife and she fidgets beside me. I take a bite of sea bass.
“Don’t count on it,” she mutters, and I know without looking that she’s pouting.
Oh, playing hard to get, Miss Steele?
“Speaking of contracts,” she continues. “The NDA.”
“Tear it up.”
“What? Really?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure I’m not going to run to
The Seattle Times
with an exposé?”
I laugh, knowing how shy she is. “No. I trust you. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Ditto,” she says.
“I’m very glad you’re wearing a dress.”
“Why haven’t you touched me, then?”
“Missing my touch?” I tease.
“Yes,” she exclaims.
“Eat.”
“You’re not going to touch me, are you?”
“No.” I hide my amusement.
She looks outraged.
“Just imagine how you’ll feel when we’re home,” I add. “I can’t wait to get you home.”
“It will be your fault if I combust here on the seventy-sixth floor.” She sounds pissed.
“Oh, Anastasia. We’d find a way to put the fire out.”
She narrows her eyes and takes a bite of her supper. The sea bass is delicious, and I’m hungry. She wriggles in her seat and her dress rides up a little, exposing more of her skin. She takes another bite, then puts down her knife, and runs her hand up the inside of her thigh, her fingertips drumming as she does.
She’s toying with me. “I know what you’re doing.”
“I know that you know, Mr. Grey. That’s the point.” She takes an asparagus stalk between her fingers and, with a sideways glance at me, dips the spear into the hollandaise sauce and swirls it around and around.
“You’re not turning the tables on me, Miss Steele.” I take the asparagus from her. “Open your mouth.”
She opens her mouth and runs her tongue across her bottom lip.
Tempting, Miss Steele. Very tempting.
“Wider,” I command, and she bites her bottom lip but complies, easing the stalk into her mouth and sucking.
Fuck.
It might as well be my cock.
She moans quietly and takes a bite and reaches for me.
I stop her with my other hand. “Oh no you don’t, Miss Steele.” I brush my lips across her knuckles. “Don’t touch,” I scold, and place her hand on her knee.
“You don’t play fair.”
“I know.” I raise my champagne glass. “Congratulations on your promotion, Miss Steele.” We clink glasses.
“Yes, kind of unexpected,” she says, looking a little discouraged. Does she doubt herself? I hope not.
“Eat.” I change the subject. “I am not taking you home until you’ve finished your meal, and then we can really celebrate.”
“I’m not hungry. Not for food.”
Ana. Ana.
So easily distracted.
“Eat, or I’ll put you across my knee, right here, and we’ll entertain the other diners.”
She shifts in her seat, making me think a spanking might be welcome, but her pursed lips tell a different story. Picking up an asparagus stalk, I dip the head into the hollandaise. “Eat this,” I tempt her.
She does, keeping her eyes on me.
“You really don’t eat enough. You’ve lost weight since I’ve known you.”
“I just want to go home and make love.”
I grin. “So do I, and we will. Eat up.”
She sighs as if in defeat and starts tucking into her food. I follow her example. “Have you heard from your friend?” I ask.
“Which one?”
“The guy staying in your apartment.”
“Oh, Ethan. Not since he took Mia out for lunch.”
“I’m doing some work with his and Kate’s father.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Kavanagh seems like a solid guy.”
“He’s always been good to me,” she answers, and my earlier thoughts about a hostile takeover of Kavanagh’s business recede.
She finishes her supper and places her knife and fork on her plate.
“Good girl.”
“What now?” she asks, her expression needy.
“Now? We leave. I believe you have certain expectations, Miss Steele. Which I intend to fulfill to the best of my ability.”
“The best of your a-a-bility?” she stutters.
I grin and stand up.
“Don’t we have to pay?”
“I’m a member here. They’ll bill me. Come, Anastasia, after you.” I step aside, and Ana gets up from the table and pauses beside me to smooth her dress down over her thighs.
“I can’t wait to get you home.” I follow her out of the restaurant and stop to talk to the maître d’.
“Thanks, Carmine. Superb as always.”
“You’re welcome. Mr. Grey.”
“And can you call down to have the car brought to the front?”
“No problem. Good night.”
As we get into the elevator I take Ana’s elbow and steer her toward the far corner. I stand behind her and watch as other couples get in.
Hell.
Linc, Elena’s ex, joins us, wearing a shit brown suit.
What an asshole.
“Grey,” he acknowledges me. I nod, and I’m relieved when he turns around. The fact that he’s here, only inches away, makes what I’m about to do even more exciting.
The doors close and I kneel quickly, pretending to do up my shoelace. I place my hand around Ana’s ankle, and as I stand, I skim my hand up her calf, past her knee, and her thigh, to her ass. Her naked ass.
She tenses and I slide my left arm around her waist and pull her to me while my fingers skate down her ass, to her sex. The elevator stops at another floor and we shuffle back as one to let more people on board. But I’m not interested in them. Slowly I brush her clitoris, once, twice, thrice, and then move my fingers back to her heat. “Always so ready, Miss Steele,” I whisper as I inch my middle finger inside her. I hear her faint gasp. “Keep still and quiet,” I warn, so only she can hear me. Slowly I move my finger in and out, on and on, as my excitement grows. She grabs the arm I have around her waist and she squeezes. Holding on. Her breathing accelerates, and I know she’s trying to keep quiet as I silently torment her with my fingers.
The sway of the elevator as it stops to pick up more passengers adds to the rhythm. She sags against me, then pushes her ass against my hand, wanting more. Faster.
Oh, my greedy, greedy girl.
“Hush,” I breathe, and nuzzle her hair. I ease a second finger inside her and continue to pump them in and out. She tips her head back against my chest, exposing her throat. I want to kiss her, but that would draw too much attention to what we’re doing. Her grip on me tightens.
Damn.
I’m bursting. My jeans are too fucking tight. I want her, but now really is not the place.
Her fingers dig into me.
“Don’t come. I want that later,” I whisper, and I splay my hand on her belly and press down, knowing that this will emphasize everything she’s feeling. Her head is lolling against my chest and she’s biting down on her bottom lip.
The elevator stops.
There’s a loud ping and the doors open on the first floor.
Slowly I withdraw my hand as the passengers exit, and I kiss the back of her head.
Well done, Ana.
She did not give us away.
I hold her for a moment longer.
Linc turns and nods as he leaves with a woman who I assume is his present wife. When I’m sure Ana is able to stand, I release her. She gazes up at me, her eyes dark and smoky with lust.
“Ready?” I ask, then slip both of my fingers briefly into my mouth. “Mighty fine, Miss Steele.” I give her a wicked grin.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispers, breathless and arousing.
“You’d be surprised what I can do, Miss Steele.” Reaching out, I neaten her hair, pushing it behind her ear. “I want to get you home, but maybe we’ll only make it as far as the car.” I give her a quick smile, check that my jacket is covering the front of my jeans, then take her hand and lead her out of the elevator. “Come,” I bid her.
“Yes, I want to.”
“Miss Steele!”
“I’ve never had sex in a car,” she says, as her heels echo on the marble floor. I stop and tip her head up so that we are eye to eye.
“I’m very pleased to hear that. I have to say I’d be very surprised, not to say mad, if you had.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she huffs.
“What did you mean?”
“Christian, it was just an expression.”
“The famous expression, ‘I’ve never had sex in a car.’ Yes, it just trips off the tongue.” And I’m teasing her, she’s so easy to provoke.
“Christian, I wasn’t thinking. For heaven’s sake, you’ve just…um, done that to me in an elevator full of people. My wits are scattered.”
“What did I do to you?”
She purses her lips. “You turned me on, big-time. Now take me home and fuck me.”
I laugh, taken aback. I had no idea she could be quite so crude. “You’re a born romantic, Miss Steele.” I take her hand and we head to the valet, who has the Saab parked up and ready. I give him a large tip and open the passenger door for Ana.
“So you want sex in a car?” I ask, as I switch on the ignition.
“Quite frankly, I would have been happy with the lobby floor.”
“Trust me, Ana, so would I. But I don’t enjoy being arrested at this time of night, and I didn’t want to fuck you in a restroom. Well, not today.”
“You mean there was a possibility?”
“Oh yes.”
“Let’s go back.”
I turn to look at her earnest expression. She’s so unexpected sometimes. I start to laugh, and soon we are both laughing. It’s cathartic after the build-up of sexual tension. I place a hand on her knee, caressing her and she stops laughing and looks at me with large, dark eyes.
I could fall into them and never come back. She’s so beautiful.
“Patience, Anastasia,” I whisper and we move off, heading up Fifth Avenue.
She’s silent but restless as we drive back but she gives me the occasional come-hither look through her dark lashes.
I know that look.
Yes. Ana. I want you, too.
In every way…Please say yes.
The Saab glides into a parking space in Escala’s garage. I switch off the engine, thinking about her wish for sex in a car. I have to admit it’s not something I’ve done, either. She’s biting her lip, her expression…wanton.
Groin-tighteningly wanton.
Gently, I release her lip with my fingers. I love that she wants me as much as I want her. “We will fuck in the car at a time and place of my choosing,” I whisper. “Right now, I want to take you on every available surface of my apartment.”
“Yes,” she says, even though it’s not a question. I lean toward her and she closes her eyes and puckers her lips, offering me a kiss. Her cheeks are slightly flushed.
I take a quick look around the car.
We could.
No.
She opens her eyes, waiting impatiently.
“If I kiss you now, we won’t make it into the apartment. Come.” Resisting the urge to jump her, I climb out of the car, and together we wait for the elevator.
I hold her hand, stroking her knuckles with my thumb. Setting up a rhythm that I hope to repeat with my dick in a few minutes.
“So, what happened to instant gratification?” she asks.
“It’s not appropriate in every situation, Anastasia.”
“Since when?”
“Since this evening.”
“Why are you torturing me so?”
“Tit for tat, Miss Steele.”
“How am I torturing you?”
“I think you know.”
And I watch as realization dawns on her face.
Yes, baby.
I love you. And I want you to be my wife.
But you won’t tell me your answer.