五十度灰(Fifty Shades of Grey)英文版 Part II 10

ilineuponthewhiteballandwithaswiftcleanstroke,

hitthecenterballofthetrianglesquareonwithsuchforce

thatastripedballspinsandplungesintothetopright

pocket.i’vescatteredtherestoftheballs.

“ichoosestripes,”isayinnocently,smilingcoylyat

christian.hismouthtwistsinamusement.

“bemyguest,”hesayspolitely.

iproceedtopocketthenextthreeballsinquick

succession.inside,i’mdancing.atthismoment,iamso

gratefultojoséforteachingmetoplaypoolandplayit

well.christianwatchesimpassively,givingnothingaway,

buthisamusementseemstoebb.imissthegreenstripeby

ahairsbreadth.

“youknow,anastasia,icouldstandhereandwatch

youleaningandstretchingacrossthisbilliardtableallday,”

hesaysappreciatively.

iflush.thankhea一vensiamwearingmyjeans.he

smirks.he’stryingtoputmeoffmygame,thebastard.he

pullshiscreamsweateroverhishead,tossesitontothe

backofachair,andgrinsatme,ashesauntersoverto

takehisfirstshot.

hebendslowoverthetable.mymouthgoesdry.oh,

iseewhathemeans.christianintightjeansandwhitetshirt,

bending,likethat...issomethingtobehold.iquite

losemytrainofthought.hesinksfoursolidsrapidly,then

foulsbysinkingthewhite.

“averyelementarymistake,mr.grey,”itease.

hesmirks.“ah,misssteele,iambutafoolishmortal.

yourgo,ibelieve.”hewa一vesatthetable.

“you’renottryingtoloseareyou?”

“ohno.forwhatiha一veinmindastheprize,iwantto

win,anastasia.”heshrugscasually.“butthen,ialways

wanttowin.”

inarrowmyeyesathim.rightthen...i’msoglad

i’mwearingmyblueblouse,whichispleasinglylow-cut.i

stalkaroundthetable,bendinglowateverya一vailable

opportunity—givingchristiananeyefulofmybehindand

myclea一vagewheneverican.twocanplayatthatgame.i

glanceathim.

“iknowwhatyou’redoing,”hewhispers,hiseyes

dark.

itiltmyheadcoquettishlytooneside,gentlyfondling

mycue,runningmyhandupanddownitslowly.“oh.iam

justdecidingwheretotakemynextshot,”imurmur

distractedly.

leaningacross,ihittheorangestripeintoabetter

position.ithenstanddirectlyinfrontofchristianandtake

therestfromunderneaththetable.ilineupmynextshot,

leaningrightoverthetable.ihearchristian’ssharpintake

ofbreath,andofcourse,imiss.shit.

hecomestostandbehindmewhileiamstillbentover

thetableandplaceshishandonmybackside.hmm...

“areyouwa一vingthisaroundtotauntme,miss

steele?”andhesmacksme,hard.

igasp.“yes,”imutter,becauseit’strue.

“becarefulwhatyouwishfor,baby.”

irubmybehindashewanderstotheotherendofthe

table,leansover,andtakeshisshot.jeez,icouldlookat

himallday.hehitstheredball,anditshootsintotheleft

sidepocket.heaimsfortheyellow,topright,anditjust

misses.igrin.

“redroomherewecome,”itaunthim.

hemerelyraisesaneyebrowanddirectsmeto

continue.imakequickworkofthegreenstripeandby

somefluke,managetoknockinthefinalorangestripe.

“nameyourpocket,”christianmurmurs,andit’sasif

he’stalkingaboutsomethingelse,somethingdarkand

rude.

“topleft-hand.”itakeaimovertheblack,hitit,but

miss.itskirtswide.damn.

christiansmilesawickedgrinasheleansoverthe

tableandmakesshortworkofthetworemainingsolids.i

ampracticallypanting,watchinghim,hislithebody

stretchingoverthetable.hestandsandchalkshiscue,his

eyesburningintome.

“ifiwin...”

ohyes?

“iamgoingtospankyou,thenfuckyouoverthis

billiardtable.”

holyshit.everysinglemusclesouthofmyna一vel

clencheshard.

“topright,”hemurmurs,pointingtotheblack,and

bendstotaketheshot.

desaint-exupéry,antoine.nightflight.translatedbystuartgilbert.

newjersey:prenticehall,june1932.(firstpublishedin1931underthe

originaltitleofvoldenuit.)

witheasygrace,christiantapsthewhiteballsothatit

glidesacrossthetable,kissestheblackandoh-so-slowly

theblackrolls,teetersontheedge,andfinallydropsinto

thetoprightpocketofthebilliardtable.

damn.

hestands,andhismouthtwistsinatriumphanti-soown-

you-steelesmile.puttingdownhiscue,hesaunters

casuallytowardme,alltousledhair,jeans,andwhitetshirt.

hedoesn’tlooklikeaceo—helookslikeabad

boyfromthewrongsideoftown.holycow,he’sso

fuckingsexy.

“you’renotgoingtobeasoreloser,areyou?”he

murmurs,barelycontaininghisgrin.

“dependshowhardyouspankme,”iwhisper,holding

ontomycueforsupport.hetakesmycueandputsitto

oneside,hookshisfingerintothetopofmyshirt,andpulls

metowardhim.

“well,let’scountyourmisdemeanors,misssteele.”

hecountsonhislongfingers.“one,makingmejealousof

myownstaff.two,arguingwithmeaboutworking.and

three,wa一vingyourdelectablederriereatmeforthelast

twentyminutes.”

hiseyesglowasoftgraywithexcitement,andleaning

down,herubshisnoseagainstmine.“iwantyoutotake

yourjeansandthisveryfetchingshirtoff.now.”heplants

afeather-softkissonmylips,wandersnonchalantlyover

tothedoor,andlocksit.

ohmy.

whenheturnsandgazesatme,hiseyesareburning.i

standparalyzedlikeacompletezombie,myheart

pounding,mybloodpumping,notactuallyabletomovea

muscle.inmymind,allicanthinkis—thisisforhim—

thethoughtrepeatinglikeamantraoverandoveragain.

“clothes,anastasia.youappeartostillbewearing

them.takethemoff—oriwilldoitforyou.”

“youdoit.”ifinallyfindmyvoice,anditsoundslow

andheated.christiangrins.

“oh,misssteele.it’sadirtyjob,butithinkicanrise

tothechallenge.”

“younormallyrisetomostchallenges,mr.grey.”i

raiseaneyebrowathim,andhesmirks.

“why,misssteele,whateverdoyoumean?”onhis

wayovertome,hepausesatthesmalldeskbuiltintoone

ofthebookshelves.reachingover,hepicksupatwelveinch

perspexruler.heholdseachendandflexesit,his

eyesnotlea一vingmine.

holyshit—hisweaponofchoice.mymouthgoes

dry.

suddenly,i’mhotandbotheredanddampinallthe

rightplaces.onlychristiancouldturnmeonwithjusta

lookandtheflexofaruler.heslipsitintothebackpocket

ofhisjeansandamblestowardme,eyesdarkandfullof

promise.withoutsayingaword,hedropstohiskneesin

frontofmeandstartstoundomylaces,quicklyand

efficiently,draggingbothmyconverseandsocksoff.i

leanonthesideofthebilliardtablesoidon’tfall.gazing

downathimasheundoesmylaces,imarvelatthedepth

offeelingthatiha一veforthisbeautifulflawedman.ilove

him.

hegrabsmyhips,slipshisfingersintothewaistbandof

myjeans,andundoesthebuttonandzipper.hepeersup

throughhislonglashes,grinninghismostsalaciousgrinas

heslowlypeelsmyjeansoff.istepoutofthem,gladthat

i’mwearingthesepretty,prettypanties,andhegraspsthe

backofmylegsandrunshisnosealongtheapexofmy

thighs.ipracticallymelt.

“iwanttobequiteroughwithyou,ana.you’llha一veto

tellmetostopifit’stoomuch,”hebreathes.

ohmy.hekissesme...there.imoansoftly.

“safeword?”imurmur.

“no,nosafeword,justtellmetostop,andi’llstop.

understand?”hekissesmeagain,nuzzlingme.oh,that

feelsgood.hestands,hisstareintense.“answerme,”he

ordershisvoicevelvetsoft.

“yes,yes,iunderstand.”i’mpuzzledbyhisinsistence.

“you’vebeendroppinghintsandgivingmemixed

signalsallday,anastasia,”hesays.“yousaidyouwere

worriedi’dlostmyedge.i’mnotsurewhatyoumeantby

that,andidon’tknowhowseriousyouwere,butweare

goingtofindout.idon’twanttogobackintothe

playroomyet,sowecantrythisnow,butifyoudon’tlike

it,youmustpromisetotellme.”aburningintensitybornof

hisanxietyreplaceshisearliercockiness.

whoa,pleasedon’tbeanxious,christian.“i’lltell

you.nosafeword,”ireiteratetoreassurehim.

“we’relovers,anastasia.loversdon’tneedsafe

words.”hefrowns.“dothey?”

“iguessnot,”imurmur.jeez—howdoiknow?“i

promise.”

hesearchesmyfaceforanycluethatimightlackthe

courageofmyconvictions,andi’mnervousbutexcited,

too.i’mmuchhappiertodothis,knowingthatheloves

me.it’sverysimpletome,andrightnow,idon’twantto

overthinkit.

aslowsmilestretchesacrosshisface,andhestartsto

unbuttonmyshirt,hisdeftfingersmakingshortworkofit,

thoughhedoesn’ttakeitoff.heleansoverandpicksup

thecue.

ohfuck,what’shegoingtodowiththat?afrisson

offearrunsthroughme.

“youplaywell,misssteele.imustsayi’msurprised.

whydon’tyousinktheblack?”

myfearforgotten,ipout,wonderingwhythehellhe

shouldbesurprised—sexy,arrogantbastard.myinner

goddessislimberingupinthebackground,doingherfloor

exercises—agreatfatsmileonherface.

ipositionthewhiteball.christianstrollsbackaround

thetableandstandsrightbehindmeasileanovertotake

myshot.heplaceshishandonmyrightthighandrunshis

fingersupanddownmyleg,uptomybehindandback

again,lightlystrokingme.

“iamgoingtomissifyoukeepdoingthat,”iwhisper,

closingmyeyesandrelishingthefeelofhishandsonme.

“idon’tcareifyouhitormiss,baby.ijustwantedto

seeyoulikethis—partiallydressed,stretchedoutonmy

billiardtable.doyouha一veanyideahowhotyoulookat

themoment?”

iflush,andmyinnergoddessgrabsarosebetweenher

teethandstartstotango.takingadeepbreath,itryto

ignorehimandlineupmyshot.it’simpossible.he

caressesmybehind,overandoveragain.

“topleft,”imurmur,thenhitthewhiteball.hesmacks

mehard,squarelyonmybackside.

it’ssounexpected,iyelp.thewhitehitstheblack,

whichbouncesoffthecushionwideofthepocket.

christiancaressesmybehindagain.

“oh,ithinkyouneedtotrythatagain,”hewhispers.

“youshouldconcentrate,anastasia.”

iampantingnow,excitedbythisgame.hestrollsto

theendofthetable,setsuptheblackballagain,thenruns

thewhiteballbackdowntome.helookssocarnal,dark

eyedwithalascivioussmile.howcouldieverresistthis

man?icatchtheballandlineitup,readytostrikeagain.

“uh-uh,”headmonishes.“justwait.”oh,hejustloves

prolongingtheagony.hewandersbackandstandsbehind

meagain.iclosemyeyesoncemoreashestrokesmyleft

thighthistimethenfondlesmybacksideagain.

“takeaim,”hebreathes.

ican’thelpmymoanasdesiretwistsandturnsinside

me.anditry,reallytry,tothinkaboutwhereishouldhit

theblackwiththewhite.ishiftslightlytomyright,andhe

followsme.ibendoverthetableoncemore.usingevery

lastvestigeofinnerstrength—whichhasdiminished

considerablysinceiknowwhatwillhappenonceistrike

thewhiteball—itakeaimandhitthewhiteagain.christian

smacksmeoncemore,hard.

ow!imissagain.“ohno!”igroan.

“oncemore,baby.andifyoumissthistime,i’mreally

goingtoletyouha一veit.”

what?ha一vewhat?

hesetsuptheblackballoncemoreandwalks,

achinglyslow,backtomeuntilhe’sstandingbehindme,

caressingmybacksideoncemore.

“youcandoit,”hecoaxes.

oh—notwhenyou’redistractingmelikethis.i

pushmybehindbackagainsthishand,andhesmacksme

lightly.

“eager,misssteele?”hemurmurs.

yes.iwantyou.

“well,let’sgetridofthese.”hegentlyslidesmy

pantiesdownmythighsandoff.ican’tseewhathedoes

withthem,buthelea一vesmefeelingexposedasheplantsa

softkissoneachcheek.

“taketheshot,baby.”

iwanttowhimper,thisissonotgoingtohappen.i

knowiamgoingtomiss.ilineupthewhite,hitit,andin

myimpatience,misstheblackcompletely.iwaitforthe

blow—butitdoesn’tcome.insteadheleansrightoverme,

flatteningmeagainstthetable,takesthecueoutofmy

handandrollsittothesidecushion.icanfeelhim,hard,

againstmybackside.

“youmissed,”hesayssoftlyinmyear.mycheekis

pressedagainstthebaize.“putyourhandsflatonthe

table.”

idoashesays.

“good.i’mgoingtospankyounowandnexttime,

maybeyouwon’t.”heshiftssohe’sstandingtomyleft

side,hiserectionagainstmyhip.

igroanandmyheartleapsintomymouth.mybreath

comesinshortpantsandahot,hea一vyexcitementcourses

throughmyveins.gently,hecaressesmybehindandcurls

hisotherhandaroundthenapeofmyneck,hisfingers

fistinginmyhair,hiselbowatmyback,holdingmedown.

iamcompletelyhelpless.

“openyourlegs,”hemurmursandforamoment,i

hesitate.andhesmacksmehard—withtheruler!the

noiseisharsherthanthesting,andittakesmebysurprise.

igasp,andhehitsmeagain.

“legs,”heorders.iopenmylegs,panting.theruler

strikesagain.ow—itstings,butitscrackacrossmyskin

soundsworsethanitfeels.

iclosemyeyesandabsorbthepain.it’snottoobad,

andchristian’sbreathingbecomesharsher.hehitsme

againandagain,andimoan.iamnotsurehowmany

morestrokesicanbear—buthearinghim,knowinghow

turnedonheis,feedsmyarousalandmywillingnessto

continue.iamcrossingtothedarkside,aplaceinmy

psycheidon’tknowwellbutha一vevisitedbeforeinthe

playroom—withthetallis.therulerstrikesoncemore,

andimoanloudly,andchristiangroansinresponse.he

hitsmeagain—andagain...andoncemore...harder

thistime—andiwince.

“stop.”thewordisoutofmymouthbeforei’meven

awarethati’vesaidit.christiandropstheruler

immediatelyandreleasesme.

“enough?”hewhispers.

“yes.”

“iwanttofuckyounow,”hesays,hisvoicestrained.

“yes,”imurmurwithlonging.heundoeshisfly,asi

liepantingonthetable,knowingthathe’sgoingtobe

rough.

imarveloncemoreathowiha一vemanaged—andyes,

enjoyed—whathe’sdonetomeuptothispoint.it’sso

darkbutsohim.

heeasestwofingersinsidemeandmovesthemina

circularmotion.thefeelingisexquisite.closingmyeyes,i

revelinthesensation.ihearthetelltaleripoffoil,thenhe’s

standingbehindme,betweenmylegs,pushingthemwider.

slowlyhesinksintome,fillingme.ihearhisgroanof

purepleasure,anditstirsmysoul.hegraspsmyhips

firmly,easesoutofmeagain,andthistimeslamsbackinto

me,causingmetocryout.hestillsforamoment.

“again?”heaskssoftly.

“yes...i’mfine.loseyourself...takemewith

you,”imurmurbreathlessly.

hemoanslowinhisthroat,easesoutofmeonce

more,thenslamsintome,andrepeatsthisoverandover

slowly,deliberately—apunishing,brutal,hea一venlyrhythm.

ohfuckingmy...myinsidesbegintoquicken.he

feelsit,too,andincreasestherhythm,pushingme,higher,

harder,faster—andisurrender,explodingaroundhim—a

draining,soul-grabbingorgasmthatlea一vesmespentand

exhausted.

i’mvaguelyawarethatchristian,too,islettinggo,

callingmyname,hisfingersdiggingintomyhips,andthen

hestillsandcollapsesonme.wesinktothefloor,andhe

cradlesmeinhisarms.

“thankyou,baby,”hebreathes,coveringmyupturned

faceinsoftfeather-lightkisses.iopenmyeyesandgaze

upathim,andhewrapshisarmstighteraroundme.

“yourcheekispinkfromthebaize,”hemurmurs,

rubbingmyfacetenderly.“howwasthat?”hiseyesare

wideandcautious.

“teeth-clenchinglygood,”imutter.“ilikeitrough,

christian,andilikeitgentle,too.ilikethatit’swithyou.”

hecloseshiseyesandhugsmeeventighter.

jeez,i’mtired.

“youneverfail,ana.youarebeautiful,bright,

challenging,fun,sexy,andithankdivineprovidenceevery

daythatitwasyouthatcametointerviewmeandnot

katherineka一vanagh.”hekissesmyhair.ismileandyawn

againsthischest.“i’mwearingyouout,”hecontinues.

“come.bath,thenbed.”

wearebothinchristian’sbath,facingeachotherchindeep

infoam,thesweetscentofjasmineenvelopingus.

christianismassagingmyfeet,oneatatime.itfeelsso

gooditshouldbeillegal.

“caniaskyousomething?”imurmur.

“ofcourse.anything,ana,youknowthat.”

itakeadeepbreathandsitup,flinchingonlyslightly.

“tomorrow—whenigotowork—cansawyerjust

delivermetothefrontdooroftheofficethenpickmeup

attheendoftheday?please,christian.please,”iplead.

hishandsstillashisbrowcreases.“ithoughtwe

agreed,”hegrumbles.

“please,”ibeg.

“whataboutlunchtime?”

“i’llmakemyselfsomethingtotakefromheresoi

don’tha一vetogoout,please.”

hekissesmyinstep.“ifinditverydifficulttosaynoto

you,”hemuttersasifhesensesthisisafailingonhispart.

“youwon’tgoout?”

“no.”

“okay.”

ibeamathim.“thankyou.”ileanupontomyknees,

sloshingwatereverywhere,andkisshim.

“you’remostwelcome,misssteele.how’syour

behind?”

“sore.butnottoobad.thewaterissoothing.”

“i’mgladyoutoldmetostop,”hesays,gazingatme.

“soismybehind.”

hegrins.

istretchoutinbed,sotired.it’sonlytenthirty,butitfeels

likethreeinthemorning.thishastobeoneofthemost

exhaustingweekendsofmylife.

“didn’tms.actonprovideanynightwear?”christian

asks,hisvoicelacedwithdisapprovalashestaresdownat

me.

“iha一venoidea.ilikewearingyourt-shirts,”imumble

sleepily.

hisfacesoftens,andheleansoverandkissesmy

forehead.

“ineedtowork.butidon’twanttolea一veyoualone.

caniuseyourlaptoptologintotheoffice?willidisturb

youifiworkfromhere?”

“s’notmylaptop.”idrift.

thealarmclickson,startlingmeawakewiththetraffic

news.christianisstillasleepbesideme.rubbingmyeyes,

iglanceattheclock.sixthirty—tooearly.

it’srainingoutsideforthefirsttimeinages,andthe

lightismutedandmellow.i’mcozyandcomfortableinthis

vastmodernmonolithwithchristianatmyside.istretch

andturntothedeliciousmanbesideme.hiseyesspring

openandheblinkssleepily.

“goodmorning.”ismileandcaresshisface,leaning

downtokisshim.

“goodmorning,baby.iusuallywakebeforethealarm

goesoff,”hemurmursinwonder.

“it’ssetsoearly.”

“thatitis,misssteele.”christiangrins.“iha一vetoget

up.”hekissesme,andthenhe’supandoutofbed.iflop

backagainstthepillows.wow,wakinguponaschool

daynexttochristiangrey.howdidthisallhappen?i

closemyeyesanddoze.

“comeon,sleepyhead,getup.”christianleansover

me.he’ssha一ved,clean,fresh—hmm,hesmellsso

good—inacrispwhiteshirtandblacksuit,notie—the

ceoisback.holymoses,helooksgoodlikethis,too.

“what?”heasks.

“iwishyou’dcomebacktobed.”

hislipspart,surprisedbymycome-on,andhesmiles

almostshyly.“youareinsatiable,misssteele.asmuchas

thatideaappeals,iha一veaneightthirtymeeting,soiha一ve

togoshortly.”

oh,i’vesleptforanotherhourorso.shit.ileapout

ofbed,muchtochristian’samusement.

ishoweranddressquickly,wearingtheclothesisetout

yesterday:afitted,graypencilskirt;pale-graysilkshirt;

andhigh-heeledblackpumps,allcareofmynew

wardrobe.ibrushmyhairandcarefullyputitup,then

wanderouttothegreatroom,notreallyknowingwhatto

expect.howamigoingtogettowork?

christianissippingcoffeeatthebreakfastbar.mrs.

jonesisinthekitchenmakingpancakesandbacon.

“youlooklovely,”christianmurmurs.wrappingan

armaroundme,hekissesmeundermyear.outofthe

cornerofmyeye,icatchmrs.jones’ssmile.iflush.

“goodmorning,misssteele,”shesaysassheplaces

pancakesandbaconinfrontofme.

“oh,thankyou.goodmorning,”imumble.jeez—i

couldgetusedtothis.

“mr.greysaysyou’dliketotakelunchwithyouto

work.whatwouldyouliketoeat?”

iglanceatchristian,whoistryingveryhardnotto

smirk.inarrowmyeyesathim.

“asandwich...salad.ireallydon’tmind.”ibeamat

mrs.jones.

“i’llrustleupapackedlunchforyou,ma’am.”

“please,mrs.jones,callmeana.”

“ana.”shesmilesandturnstomakemetea.

wow...thisissocool.

iturnandcockmyheadatchristian,challenginghim

—goon,accusemeofflirtingwithmrs.jones.

“iha一vetogo,baby.taylorwillcomebackanddrop

youatworkwithsawyer.”

“onlytothedoor.”

“yes.onlytothedoor.”christianrollshiseyes.“be

careful,though.”

iglancearoundandspytaylorstandinginthe

entranceway.christianstandsandkissesme,graspingmy

chin.

“laters,baby.”

“ha一veagooddayattheoffice,dear,”icallafterhim.

heturnsandflashesmehisbeautifulsmilethenhe’sgone.

mrs.joneshandsmeacupoftea,andsuddenlyifeel

awkwardwithjustthetwoofushere.

“howlongha一veyouworkedforchristian?”iask,

thinkingioughttomakesomekindofconversation.

“fouryearsorso,”shesayspleasantly,asshesets

aboutmakingmypackedlunch.

“youknow,icandothat,”imutter,embarrassedthat

sheshouldbedoingthisforme.

“youeatyourbreakfast,ana.thisiswhatido.i

enjoyit.it’snicetolookaftersomeoneotherthanmr.

taylorandmr.grey.”shesmilesverysweetlyatme.

mycheekspinkwithpleasure,andiwanttobombard

thiswomanwithquestions.shemustknowsomuchabout

fifty,andalthoughhermanneriswarmandfriendly,it’s

alsoveryprofessional.iknowi’llonlyembarrassbothof

usifistartquizzingher,soifinishmybreakfastina

reasonablycomfortablesilence,punctuatedonlybyher

questionsonmyfoodpreferencesforlunch.

twenty-fiveminuteslatersawyerappearsatthe

entrancetothegreatroom.iha一vebrushedmyteeth,and

i’mwaitingtogo.clutchingmybrownpaperlunchbag—i

can’tevenremembermymomdoingthisforme—sawyer

andiheadtothefirstfloorviatheelevator.he’svery

taciturn,too,givingnothingaway.tayloriswaitinginthe

audi,andiclimbintotherearpassengerseatwhen

sawyeropensthedoor.

“goodmorning,taylor,”isaybrightly.

“misssteele.”hesmiles.

“taylor,i’msorryaboutyesterdayandmy

inappropriateremarks.ihopeididn’tgetyouinto

trouble.”

taylorfrownsinbemusementatmefromtherearview

mirrorashepullsoutintotheseattletraffic.

“misssteele,i’mrarelyintrouble,”hesays

reassuringly.

ohgood.maybechristiandidn’ttellhimoff.just

me,then,ithinksourly.