Fifty Shades of Grey

“So, limits. These are mine.” He hands me another piece of paper.

Hard Limits

No acts involving fire play

No acts involving urination or defecation and the products thereof No acts involving needles, knives, piercing, or blood

No acts involving gynecological medical instruments

No acts involving children or animals

No acts that will leave any permanent marks on the skin

No acts involving breath control

Ugh. He has to write these down! Of course – they all look very sensible, and frankly, necessary… any sane person wouldn’t want to be involved in this sort of thing surely?

Though I now feel a little queasy.

“Is there anything you’d like to add?” he asks kindly.

Crap. I’ve no idea. I am completely stumped. He gazes at me and furrows his brow.

“Is there anything you won’t do?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

I squirm uncomfortably and bite my lip.

“I’ve never done anything like this.”

“Well, when you’ve had sex, was there anything that you didn’t like doing?”

For the first time in what seems to be ages, I blush.

“You can tell me, Anastasia. We have to be honest with each other or this isn’t going to work.”

I squirm uncomfortably again and stare at my knotted fingers.

“Tell me,” he commands.

“Well… I’ve not had sex before, so I don’t know.” My voice is small. I peek up at him, and he’s staring at me, mouth-open, frozen, and pale - really pale.

“Never?” he whispers. I shake my head.

“You’re a virgin?” he breathes. I nod, flushing again. He closes his eyes and looks to be counting to ten. When he opens them again, he’s angry, glaring at me.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” he growls.

Christian is running both his hands through his hair and pacing up and down his study.

Two hands – that’s double exasperation. His usual concrete control seems to have slipped a notch.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me,” he castigates me.

“The subject never came up. I’m not in the habit of revealing my sexual status to everyone I meet. I mean, we hardly know each other.” I’m staring at my hands. Why am I feeling guilty? Why is he so mad? I peek up at him.

“Well, you know a lot more about me now,” he snaps, his mouth presses into a hard line. “I knew you were inexperienced, but a virgin! ” He says it like it’s a really dirty word.

“Hell, Ana, I just showed you,” he groans. “May God forgive me. Have you ever been kissed, apart from by me?”

“Of course I have.” I try my best to look affronted. Okay… maybe twice.

“And a nice young man hasn’t swept you off your feet? I just don’t understand. You’re twenty-one, nearly twenty-two. You’re beautiful.” He runs his hand through his hair again.

Beautiful. I flush with pleasure. Christian Grey thinks I’m beautiful. I knot my fingers together, staring at them hard, trying to conceal my goofy grin. Perhaps he’s near- sighted, my subconscious has reared her somnambulant head. Where was she when I needed her?

“And you’re seriously discussing what I want to do, when you have no experience.”

His brows knit together. “How have you avoided sex? Tell me, please.”

I shrug.

“No one’s really, you know.” Come up to scratch, only you. And you turn out to be some kind of monster. “Why are you so angry with me?” I whisper.

“I’m not angry with you, I’m angry with myself. I just assumed… ” He sighs. He regards me shrewdly and then shakes his head. “Do you want to go?” he asks, his voice gentle.