"I w-would like to go!"

I chuckled, "Not yet Sweetness. You see, I just got started."

Ropes of steel corded my muscles, well poised to leap. Blood roared through my veins with unbridled desire, my frenzy increasing. It was going to be fast and hard the first few times I'd take her, since I was convinced I wouldn't be able to control myself. My cock swelled at the decadent thought, pushing against the fabric of my slacks. I didn't have a condom but her medical records indicated she was free of any sexual malady and on birth control. I could always take her right at this moment.

This was abominable. Me, pondering the thought of not using a condom with a female. My ever unwavering control had deserted me in this time of need.

Frantic, my mouth kept at its assault. The hot spear of my tongue parted her lips, duelling aggressively. She whimpered with apprehension, then hearing my low groan, a moan left her throat unintentionally. Her skin heated like a fire was blazed underneath all that softness. A scant reluctance peeked from afar, but her coital curiosity prevailed it.

My hands—having a mind of their own at this point—were getting bold in the exploration of her flesh. Everything about her was taking over my senses. I was horrified. Inwardly, I was aghast at my actions. Amidst our primal kiss, her submissive mouth, all of a sudden, tried to overpower my imposing one. She took my bottom lip between her sharp little pearly teeth and deliberately nipped it, hard enough to draw blood. I grimaced at the dull ache, then smirked around her mouth.

I was being repaid for the bite mark I had left on her neck. She could hide it in the cold weather with the help of a scarf or a turtle neck. Me—not so much. I'd have to parade in the board room and GEH with a swollen lip. That would be a first; speculations ariser—brow raiser. I hoped she was proud of herself. Snaring her chin between my finger and thumb and tugging the hair at the nape of her neck harshly, I started suckling on her sweet tongue with a renewed fervour.

Trailing my hand down from her chin, I cupped a pert breast through her thick jacket. Not enough. Too many layers. I wanted—needed—to get closer. My digits fumbled with the opening of the lapels of her jacket trying to somehow find a way in. As much closer to her skin as possible.

As soon as she conceived my intent, her body froze. Alarmed, my mind repeatedly cried out at me to stop, but my body refused to listen to reason. This was monstrous... embarrassing. I was on the verge of ruining my reputation—if I hadn't done so already. In my opinion what I was doing had well passed the territory of sexual harassment and had now entered the domain of attempted rape.

Icy chills shot down my spine. For the first time in my life ever since I'd been adopted by the Greys, I was afraid. Not so much from the ramifications of my actions, as much as from myself. This was a side of me that I hadn't before encountered—ever, not even once. I wasn't prepared. It was... staggering. My ardour was borderline psychotic. Had I even known myself or was I always a stranger in my own body? Lulled into a false sense of security by my sham of a control until... until I encountered something—someone—who would manage to make a mockery out of my restraint, reduce it into a wall of paper that could be incised by a feeble twig.

It was only supposed to be a simple kiss. I only wanted to sample her lips, not plunder her mouth like a savage Neanderthal.

I was as much confounded as her. Tasting salt on her mouth, I figured they were tears given the softness of her lips. Salt, that perhaps seeped due to the lack of oxygen. I must be petrifying her. She probably thought I was about to take her without her consent. I wasn't about to do that. I wouldn't, right? My actions were a far cry and a contradiction to the written consent I wanted to procure from her. The least she deserved was the right to consent verbally.

For everyone—everything else, my self control was as pristine as ever. There couldn't be anything wrong with me or my restraint. She was the cause, I excused. She came into my carefully constructed life and shot it to hell. She was the reason we were both in this state. I was not to fault.

The beast inside me was on a tight leash, fighting for freedom so it could properly ravish her. I hadn't realized, in the moment of heat, how I had unwittingly let her hands loose, so my mind went numb before proverbially exploding into tiny pieces when her fingers reached out for my shoulder. My shoulder that wasn't too far off from my chest. My chest, that was the forbidden zone. The no-man's-land that elicited violent reactions. As though I wasn't being a brute enough; as though I hadn't already blown up my chances with her.

With a constraint worthy of applause, I wrenched my mouth away from her addictive lips. Only the threat of her touching the forbidden zone brought me back to the land of the sane.

"No!" I immediately caught both her hands in mine and somehow croaked out whilst she sat there confused with a half startled expression on her face. Before she could utter a word, I pulled out my phone and dialled for Taylor.

Taylor picked up at the second bell, "Mr. Grey."

"Taylor, we're leaving. I need you back." After a non discernible pause, I added as an after thought, "As soon as possible."

"Already on my way, Mr. Grey." Came Taylor's ever instant response.

I turned towards Miss Steele, guiltily eyeing her red swollen mouth. I finally uttered, "We're leaving."

"We are?"

"I'll drop you."

"You will?" She whispered, her azure irises dilated. She absently lifted her hand, then lightly touched the raw bite mark on her neck. Her brows furrowed at the pain. She mumbled, "I thought you wouldn't... hurt me?"

"I didn't... I tried." I answered gruffly averting my gaze, hoping she wouldn't catch up to what extent I was about to go.

"You did?"

I looked at her beautiful dazed face and tried to lift my lips in a harmless smile. "Yes."

"Oh!" Her swollen mouth turned into an adorable O. She stared out the window. Perhaps due to the quiet atmosphere, she sometimes nervously peeked up at me when she thought I wasn't noticing. Her childlike curiosity made my stone cold heart want to reassure her but the ominous cloud of what I had almost done abstained me from performing any pleasantries.

She, however, was not fearful.

Timid, yes.

Wary, yes.

Shy, yes.

Fearful, no.

I gathered she had merely assumed we had made out with each other like stray animals without decorum. It wasn't likely to cross her mind that if she hadn't nearly touched my torso I wouldn't have stopped. If I hadn't accidentally released her hands she wouldn't have been able to stop me, period. She didn't realize how dangerous I was for her, only specifically her. God damn-it, why was this happening to me?

How did I lose control?

How could I put my reputation on the line for a mere woman?

I had to take precautions. Around her, my mind seemed to plunge into a perpetual shut down and only instincts drove the mechanics of my body. Instincts pressed I claim her before any other suitor tried to invade my territory. Instincts said turn her around, hold her dainty neck in a claw, spear her body with my cock and declare to everyone—including herself—that she was mine. Ridiculously stupid!

The rest of the way passed in uncomfortable silence, where we both tried not to engage each other in conversation. I attempted to sort out my dilemma and she chewed on her already abused bottom lip, still covertly peering up at me every once in a while.

She lived near the coffee shop. The ten minute's journey passed with a deathly silence with mild discomfort on my part due to her chewing on that lush lip.

I wanted to devour her.

That girl... no, not a girl, she was a woman. Maybe a vixen, a fucking siren, a she-devil sent from the God Himself to punish me, but she was definitely not a girl. Anastasia Steele was anything but a girl; she was a woman who had the power to bring men to their knees with nothing but her eyes without knowing it herself. Which automatically increased her appeal.

She guided Taylor to her place. As the vehicle stopped in front of the apartment building, Taylor got out and opened the side-door for her. She shifted in her seat before retiring from the car, leaving a courteous parting remark in the wake of her departure, "Good-bye..."

"Good-night Anastasia.." I knew in my gut that by all means, this wasn't a good-bye. Even if I turned out to be dangerous for her. Even if I was uncontrollable where she was concerned. I knew I wouldn't be able to completely leave her alone because of my selfishness.

Upon my arrival at the penthouse, I enclosed myself in my study. Desperate times called for desperate measures so I took out my Blackberry, dialling for John, Dr. Flynn.

John picked up at the fourth bell, chirping immediately, "Good After-noon Christian!"

"John, good after-noon. I need to talk to you." I immediately cut to the chase, airing Dr. Flynn's intrigue.

"Right now? You just had your session on Wednesday. However I'm listening."

"I-I told you about that girl during my last session..."

He laughed, "Ah, Yes. A one very inquisitive Miss Steele?"

I cracked a smile, "Yes, the very same. I met her today." I smoothly omitted the detail that I likely pillaged my way to a cup of coffee, or a hot chocolate to be more precise.

"And how did that go?" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes when John's voice took on a sudden teasing lilt. His curiosity sometimes could rival with a gossip rag's reporter.

"I don't know. I mean I had coffee. She had hot-chocolate. We also kissed and I—" Words hitched in my throat. I had to be honest with my therapist. I had to tell John what was about to happen. I was sure I needed help.

"You what Christian?"

"I was a little rough with her." My tone dropped low, "Not a proper gentleman like you suggested." I confessed, "I got carried away... and then I..." I forced a tight swallow.

John cleared his throat in anticipation. "I dropped her off at her place." I immediately diverted my topic instead of admitting; I think I was about to take her without her consent; I think she wasn't safe around me.

I couldn't. Even if John was my therapist. I couldn't find it in myself to trust him with this piece of information and then later confidently look him in the eyes for the rest of my isolated life. Anything like that would alarm him. I didn't want to alarm him. I didn't want to alarm anyone. I just wanted to see Anastasia again. I was sure I would be able to control my reactions the next time around.

I quickly bid John a bye and ended the call, all the while completely acknowledging how potentially dangerous it could be to hide my state of mind from him.

The things I had done to my submissives and the things Elena had done to me were nothing compared to the things I wanted to do to one Anastasia Steele. The monster that used to live inside me was nothing compared to the animal that she had unwittingly brought out in me. She had taken my feelings of sadism and owning a possession to a whole new level of perversity. She should know better than to play with fire. She should know fire did nothing but burn in the end.

After how I had portrayed myself, I wondered, did I still have a chance with her? I could try to pursue her, lavish her with priceless gifts, buy her whatever her heart desired, anything… absolutely anything she wanted. In return, all she had to do was to be mine until I had fucked her out of my system.

But a chance for what? A chance for her to submit herself to my torture? Since I agreed to myself that I didn't know for sure what I was capable of doing if left alone with her.

That was what truly alarmed me; I abhorred non-consensual activities but with a certain Miss Steele, I was no longer sure exactly what I was capable of. That was how intoxicated I was by her presence, her scent, her taste. Sweet fuck, that taste... I still remembered her taste.

Exhausted by my mental tirade, I sank down on a cushioned chair in my study and deliberated. Did I even want to be left alone with her? I always knew I was a sick fuck and now I'd proved it but... I still wanted her. I wanted to see her helpless and bound at my whim, with her flushed body on display, ready for me to eat and nibble on. I wanted to taste her like an addict needing his next fix. I wanted to fuck her, use her body for my pleasure. And if she ever found out about my thoughts, she would probably run for the hills, screaming.

As all those sentiments filtered through my mind, one thought arose hissing, baring the ugly truth—who would win; the man or the beast?

Did I even want the man to win?

Was I merely finding excuses so I could ultimately impose myself on her? Control her?