Free Darker by E. L. James Page B

I’m sure she pays her way…but it must be tough to play second fiddle to Katherine Kavanagh. Maybe she likes it, or maybe she finds it a struggle. She certainly doesn’t squander her money on clothes. But I’ve remedied that; I have a closetful for her at Escala. I wonder what she’ll think about that? She’ll likely give me a hard time.
    Don’t think about that now, Grey.
    Ana’s studying me, her eyes dark. She licks her bottom lip, and my body lights up like a firework.
    “Er…would you like a drink?” she asks.
    “No thank you, Anastasia.” I want you.
    She clasps her hands together, seemingly at a loss and looking a little apprehensive. Do I still make her nervous? This woman can bring me to my knees, and she’s the one who’s nervous?
    “What would you like to do, Anastasia?” I ask, and move closer to her, my eyes not leaving hers. “I know what I want to do.”
    And we can do it here, or in your bedroom, or your bathroom, I don’t care—I just want you. Now.
    Her lips part as her breath hitches and her breathing quickens.
    Oh, that sound is beguiling.
    You want me, too, baby.
    I know it.
    I feel it.
    She backs up against the kitchen island with nowhere else to go.
    “I’m still mad at you,” she asserts, but her voice is tremulous and soft. She doesn’t sound mad at all. Wanton, maybe. But not mad.
    “I know,” I agree, and give her a wolfish grin. Her eyes widen.
    Oh, baby.
    “Would you like something to eat?” she whispers.
    I nod slowly. “Yes. You.”
    Standing over her, staring into eyes that are dark with desire, I feel the heat from her body. It’s searing me. I want to be wrapped in it. Bathed in it. I want to make her scream and moan and call out my name. I want to reclaim her and wipe the memory of our breakup from her mind.
    I want to make her mine. Again.
    But first things first.
    “Have you eaten today?” I need to know.
    “I had a sandwich at lunch.”
    That will do. “You need to eat,” I chide her.
    “I’m really not hungry right now…for food.”
    “What are you hungry for, Miss Steele?” I lower my face so that our lips are almost touching.
    “I think you know, Mr. Grey.”
    She’s not wrong. I stifle my groan and it takes all my self-control not to grab her and toss her onto the concrete counter. But I was serious when I said she’d have to beg. She has to tell me what she wants. She has to vocalize her feelings, her needs, and desires. I want to learn what makes her happy. I lean down as if to kiss her, fooling her, and whisper in her ear instead.
    “Do you want me to kiss you, Anastasia?”
    She inhales sharply.
“Yes.”
    “Where?”
    “Everywhere.”
    “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that. I told you I’m not going to touch you until you beg me and tell me what to do.”
    “Please,” she pleads.
    Oh no, baby. I’m not going to make this easy on you. “Please what?”
    “Touch me.”
    “Where, baby?”
    She reaches for me.
    No.
    The darkness erupts inside me and grips my throat with its claws. Instinctively, I step back, my heart pounding as fear courses through my body.
    Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.
    Fuck.
    “No. No,” I mutter.
    This is why I have rules.
    “What?” She’s confused.
    “No.” I shake my head. She knows this. I told her yesterday. I have to make her understand she can’t touch me.
    “Not at all?” She steps toward me and I don’t know what she intends. The darkness stabs at my insides, so I take another step back and hold up my hands to ward her off.
    With a smile, I beseech her, “Look. Ana…” But I can’t find the right words.
    Please. Don’t touch me. I can’t handle it.
    Damn, it’s frustrating.
    “Sometimes you don’t mind,” she protests. “Perhaps I should find a marker pen, and we could map out the no-go areas.”
    Well, that’s an approach that I’ve not considered before. “That’s not a bad idea. Where’s your bedroom?” I need to move her on from this