Chapter 62

“Okay.” She exhales, relieved.

Move on, Grey. “So, obeying, do you think you can manage that?”

She stares at me with those eyes that see through to my dark soul, and I don’t know what she’s going to say.

Shit. This could be the end.

“I could try,” she says, her voice low.

It’s my turn to exhale. I’m still in the game. “Good.”

“Now term.” Clause eleven. “One month instead of three is no time at all, especially if you want a weekend away from me each month.” We’ll get nowhere in that time. She needs training and I can’t stay away from her for any length of time. I tell her as much. Maybe we can compromise, as she suggested. “How about one day over one weekend per month you get to yourself—but I get a midweek night that week?”

I watch her weighing the possibility. “Okay,” she says eventually, her expression serious.

Good.

“And please, let’s try it for three months. If it’s not for you, then you can walk away anytime.”

“Three months,” she says. Is she agreeing? I’ll take it as a “yes.”

Right. Here goes.

“The ownership thing, that’s just terminology and goes back to the principle of obeying. It’s to get you into the right frame of mind, to understand where I’m coming from. And I want you to know that as soon as you cross my threshold as my submissive, I will do what I like to you. You have to accept that, and willingly. That’s why you have to trust me. I will fuck you, anytime, any way I want—anywhere I want. I will discipline you, because you will screw up. I will train you to please me.

“But I know you’ve not done this before. Initially, we’ll take it slowly, and I will help you. We’ll build up to various scenarios. I want you to trust me, but I know I have to earn your trust, and I will. The ‘or otherwise’—again, it’s to help you get into the mind-set; it means anything goes.”

Some speech, Grey.

She sits back—overwhelmed, I think.

“Still with me?” I ask, gently. The waiter sneaks into the room, and with a nod I give him permission to clear our table.

“Would you like some more wine?” I ask her.

“I have to drive.”

Good answer.

“Some water, then?”

She nods.

“Still or sparkling?”

“Sparkling, please.”

The waiter leaves with our plates.

“You’re very quiet,” I whisper. She’s barely said a word.

“You’re very verbose,” she shoots straight back at me.

Fair point, Miss Steele.

Now for the next item on her list of issues: clause fifteen. I take a deep breath. “Discipline. There’s a very fine line between pleasure and pain, Anastasia. They are two sides of the same coin, one not existing without the other. I can show you how pleasurable pain can be. You don’t believe me now, but this is what I mean about trust. There will be pain, but nothing that you can’t handle.” I cannot emphasize this enough. “Again, it comes down to trust. Do you trust me, Ana?”

“Yes, I do,” she says immediately. Her response knocks me sideways: it’s completely unexpected.

Again.

Have I gained her trust already?

“Well, then, the rest of this stuff is just details.” I feel ten feet tall.

“Important details.”

She’s right. Concentrate, Grey.

“Okay, let’s talk through those.”

The waiter reenters with our entrées.

“I hope you like fish,” I say, as he places our food before us. The black cod looks delicious. Ana takes a bite.

Finally, she’s eating!

“The rules,” I continue. “Let’s talk about them. The food is a deal breaker?”

“Yes.”

“Can I modify to say that you will eat at least three meals a day?”

“No.”

Suppressing an irritated sigh, I persist. “I need to know that you’re not hungry.”

She frowns. “You’ll have to trust me.”

“Oh, touché, Miss Steele,” I mutter to myself. These are battles I’m not going to win. “I concede the food and the sleep.”

She gives me a small, relieved smile. “Why can’t I look at you?” she asks.

“That’s a Dom/sub thing. You’ll get used to it.”

She frowns once more, but looks pained this time. “Why can’t I touch you?” she asks.

“Because you can’t.”

Shut her down, Grey.

“Is it because of Mrs. Robinson?”

What? “Why would you think that? You think she traumatized me?”

She nods.

“No, Anastasia. She’s not the reason. Besides, Mrs. Robinson wouldn’t take any of that shit from me.”

“So nothing to do with her,” she asks, looking confused.

“No.”

I can’t bear to be touched. And, baby, you really don’t want to know why.

“And I don’t want you touching yourself, either,” I add.

“Out of curiosity, why?”

“Because I want all your pleasure.”

In fact, I want it now. I could fuck her here to see if she can be quiet. Real quiet, knowing we’re within earshot of the hotel staff and guests. After all, that’s why I’ve booked this room.

She opens her mouth as if to say something, but closes it again and takes another bite of food from her largely untouched plate. “I’ve given you a great deal to think about, haven’t I?” I say, folding up her e-mail and tucking it into my inside pocket.