Fifty Shades of Grey (book 1+ 2) novel Chapter 67

Jeez. He's kept an inventory.

"Christian, please, it's not every day I sit through conversations like this."

"I need you fit and healthy Anastasia."

"I know."

"And right now, I want to peel you out of that dress."

I swallow. Peel me out of Kate's dress. I feel the pull deep in my belly. Muscles that I'm now more acquainted with clench at his words. But I can't have this. His most potent weapon, used against me again. He's so good at sex - even I've figured this out.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I murmur quietly. "We haven't had dessert."

"You want dessert?" he snorts.

"Yes."

"You could be dessert," he murmurs suggestively.

"I'm not sure I'm sweet enough."

"Anastasia, you're deliciously sweet. I know."

"Christian. You use sex as a weapon. It really isn't fair," I whisper, staring down at my hands, and then looking directly at him. He raises his eyebrows, surprised, and I see he's considering my words. He strokes his chin thoughtfully.

"You're right. I do. In life you use what you know, Anastasia. Doesn't change how much I want you. Here. Now."

How can he seduce me solely with his voiceI'm panting already - my heated blood rushing through my veins, my nerves tingling.

"I'd like to try something," he breathes.

I frown. He's just given me a shit load of ideas to process and now this.

"If you were my sub, you wouldn't have to think about this. It would be easy." His voice is soft, seductive. "All those decisions - all the wearying thought processes behind them. The - is this the right thing to doShould this happen hereCan it happen now?

You wouldn't have to worry about any of that detail. That's what I'd do as your Dom. And right now, I know you want me, Anastasia."

My frown deepens. How can he tell?

"I can tell because... "

Holy shit he's answering my unspoken question. Is he psychic as well?

"... Your body gives you away. You're pressing your thighs together, you're flushed, and your breathing has changed."

O, this is too much.

"How do you know about my thighs?" My voice is low, disbelieving. They're under the table for heaven's sake.

"I felt the tablecloth move, and it's a calculated guess based on years of experience.

I'm right aren't I?"

I flush and stare down at my hands. That's what I'm hindered by in this game of seduction. He's the only one who knows and understands the rules. I'm just too na?ve and inexperienced. My only sphere of reference is Kate, and she doesn't take any shit from men. My other references are all fictional: Elizabeth Bennett would be outraged, Jane Eyre too frightened, and Tess would succumb, just as I have.

"I haven't finished my cod."

"You'd prefer cold cod to me?"

My head jerks up to glare at him, and his gray eyes burn molten silver, with compelling need.

"I thought you liked me clearing my plate."

"Right now, Miss Steele, I couldn't give a f**k about your food."

"Christian. You just don't fight fair."

"I know. I never have."

My inner goddess frowns at me. You can do this, she coaxes - play this sex god at his own game. Can I Okay. What to doMy inexperience is an albatross around my neck.

Picking up a spear of asparagus, I gaze at him and bite my lip. Then very slowly put the tip of my cold asparagus in my mouth and suck it.

Christian's eyes widen infinitesimally, but I notice.

"Anastasia. What are you doing?"

I bite off the tip.

"Eating my asparagus."

Christian shifts in his seat.

"I think you're toying with me, Miss Steele."

I feign innocence.

"I'm just finishing my food, Mr. Grey."

The waiter chooses this moment to knock and, unbidden, enter. He glances briefly at Christian, who frowns at him but then nods, so the waiter clears our plates. The waiter's arrival has broken the spell. And I grasp this precious moment of clarity. I have to go. Our meeting will only end one way if I stay, and I need some boundaries after such an intense conversation. As much as my body craves his touch, my mind is rebelling. I need some distance to think about all he's said. I still haven't made a decision, and his sexual allure and prowess doesn't make it any easier.

"Would you like some dessert?" Christian asks, ever the gentleman, but his eyes still blaze.

"No, thank you. I think I should go." I stare down at my hands.