Fifty Shades Darker (book 5)

Chapter 9

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“Kinky fuckery?” she squeaks in disbelief.

“Kinky fuckery.”

“I can’t believe you said that.” She looks anxiously at Taylor again.

“Well, I did. Answer me.”

“I like your kinky fuckery,” she whispers.

Oh, baby, so do I.

I’m relieved. Step one…okay. Keep cool, Grey.

“That’s what I thought. So what don’t you like?”

She’s silent for a moment, and I know she’s scrutinizing me in the light and shadows of the intermittent street lamps. “The threat of cruel and unusual punishment,” she says.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, you have all those—” She stops, glancing at Taylor once more, and her voice lowers. “Things in your playroom, the canes, and whips, and they frighten the living daylights out of me. I don’t want you to use them on me.”

This, I have worked out for myself.

“Okay, so no whips or canes. Or belts, for that matter,” I add, unable to keep the irony out of my voice.

“Are you attempting to redefine the hard limits?” she asks.

“Not as such. I’m just trying to understand you—get a

“Fundamentally, Christian, it’s your joy in inflicting pain that’s difficult for me to handle. And the idea that you’ll do it because I have crossed some arbitrary line.”

Hell. She knows me. She has seen the monster. I’m not going there, or I will blow this deal. I ignore her first comment and

“I don’t want a set of rules.”

“None at all?”

Fuck—she might touch me. How can I protect myself from that? And suppose she does

“No rules,” she states, shaking her head for emphasis.

Okay, million-dollar question.

“But you don’t mind if I spank you?”

“Spank me with what?”

“This.” I hold up my hand.

She shifts in her seat, and a silent, sweet joy unfurls deep in my gut. Oh, baby, I love it when

“No, not really. Especially with those silver balls…”

My cock stirs at the thought. Damn. I cross my legs. “Yes, that was fun.”

“More than fun,” she adds.

“So you can deal with some pain.” I can’t keep the hope out of my voice.

“Yes, I suppose.” She shrugs.

Okay. So we may be able to structure a relationship around this.

Deep breath, Grey, give her the terms.

trust me more—and I trust you to be honest and to communicate with me—we could move on and do some of the things that I like

That’s it.

escalates; blood thrums through my body, pounding past my eardrums as I wait for her reaction. My well-being hangs in the balance. And she says…nothing! She stares at me as we pass under a streetlight and I see her clearly. She’s assessing me. Her eyes still impossibly large in her beautiful, thinner,

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