Chapter 113

You were right when you said I didn’t have a submissive bone in my body…and I agree with you now. Having said that, I want to be with you, and if that’s what I have to do, I would like to try, but I think I’ll suck at it and end up black and blue—and I don’t relish that idea at all.

I am so happy that you have said that you will try more. I just need to think about what “more” means to me, and that’s one of the reasons why I wanted some distance. You dazzle me so much I find it very difficult to think clearly when we’re together.

They are calling my flight. I have to go.

More later.

Your Ana

She’s reprimanding me. Again. But she’s stunned me with her honesty. It’s illuminating. I read her e-mail again and again, and each time I pause at “Your Ana.”

My Ana.

She wants us to work.

She wants to be with me.

There’s hope, Grey.

I place my phone on my bedside, and decide I need that run, to clear my head so I can think about my response.

I take my usual route up Stewart to Westlake Avenue then around Denny Park a few times, Four Tet’s “She Just Likes to Fight” ringing in my ears.

Ana’s given me a great deal to process.

Paying her for sex?

Like a whore.

I’ve never thought of her that way. Just the idea makes me mad. Really fucking mad. I sprint once more around the park, my anger spurring me on. Why does she do this to herself? I’m rich, so what? She just needs to get used to that. I’m reminded of our conversation yesterday about the GEH jet. She wouldn’t take that offer.

At least she doesn’t want me for my money.

But does she want me at all?

She says I dazzle her. But boy, has she got that the wrong way around. She dazzles me in a way that I’ve never experienced, yet she’s flown across the country to get away from me.

How’s that supposed to make me feel?

She’s right. It is a dark path I’m leading her down, but one that is far more intimate than any vanilla relationship—or so I’ve seen. I only have to look at Elliot and his alarmingly casual approach to dating to see the difference.

And I’d never hurt her physically or emotionally—how can she think that? I just want to push her limits, see what she will and won’t do. Punish her when she colors outside the lines…yeah, it might hurt, but not beyond anything she can take. We can work up to what I’d like to do. We can take it slow.

And here’s the rub.

If she’s going to do what I want her to do, I’m going to have to reassure her and give her “more.” What that might be…I don’t yet know. I’ve taken her to meet my parents. That was more, surely. And that wasn’t so hard.

I take a slower jog around the park to think about what disturbs me most about her e-mail. It isn’t her fear, it’s that she’s terrified of the depth of feeling she has for me.

What does that mean?

That unfamiliar feeling surfaces in my chest as my lungs burn for air. It scares me. Scares me so much that I push myself harder, so that all I feel is the pain of exertion in my legs and in my chest and the cold sweat that trickles down my back.

Yeah. Don’t go there, Grey.

Stay in control.

BACK IN MY APARTMENT I have a quick shower and shave, and then I dress. Gail is in the kitchen when I walk through on the way to my study.

“Good morning, Mr. Grey. Coffee?”

“Please,” I say, not stopping. I’m on a mission.

At my desk I fire up my iMac and compose my response to Ana.

* * *

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Finally!

Date: May 31 2011 07:30

To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia,

I am annoyed that as soon as you put some distance between us, you communicate openly and honestly with me. Why can’t you do that when we’re together?

Yes, I’m rich. Get used to it. Why shouldn’t I spend money on you? We’ve told your father I’m your boyfriend, for heaven’s sake. Isn’t that what boyfriends do? As your Dom, I would expect you to accept whatever I spend on you with no argument. Incidentally, tell your mother, too.

I don’t know how to answer your comment about feeling like a whore. I know that’s not what you’ve written, but it’s what you imply. I don’t know what I can say or do to eradicate these feelings. I’d like you to have the best of everything. I work exceptionally hard so I can spend my money as I see fit. I could buy you your heart’s desire, Anastasia, and I want to. Call it redistribution of wealth, if you will. Or simply know that I would not, could not ever think of you in the way you described, and I’m angry that’s how you perceive yourself. For such a bright, witty, beautiful young woman, you have some real self-esteem issues, and I have half a mind to make an appointment for you with Dr. Flynn.

I apologize for frightening you. I find the thought of instilling fear in you abhorrent. Do you really think I’d let you travel in the hold? I offered you my private jet, for heaven’s sake. Yes, it was a joke, a poor one obviously. However, the fact is the thought of you bound and gagged turns me on (this is not a joke—it’s true). I can lose the crate—crates do nothing for me. I know you have issues with gagging—we’ve talked about that—and if/when I do gag you, we’ll discuss it. What I think you fail to realize is that in Dom/sub relationships it is the sub who has all the power. That’s you. I’ll repeat this—you are the one with all the power. Not I. In the boathouse you said no. I can’t touch you if you say no—that’s why we have an agreement—what you will and won’t do. If we try things and you don’t like them, we can revise the agreement. It’s up to you—not me. And if you don’t want to be bound and gagged in a crate, then it won’t happen.