Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           Oh,shit,caughtnapping—thisisnotgoingtobegood.HiseyessoftenasIgazeupathim.

           “Standup,”heorders.

           Iclimbwarilytomyfeet.Hestaresatmeandhismouthquirksup.

           “You’reshattered,aren’tyou?”

           Inodshyly,flushing.

           “Stamina,MissSteele.”Henarrowshiseyesatme.“Ihaven’thadmyfillofyouyet.Holdoutyourhandsinfrontasifyou’repraying.”

           Iblinkathim.Praying!Prayingforyoutogoeasyonme.IdoasI’mtold.Hetakesacabletieandfastensitaroundmywrists,tighteningtheplastic.Holyhell.Myeyesflytohis.

           “Lookfamiliar?”heasks,unabletoconcealhissmile.

           Jeez…theplasticcableties.RestockingatClayton’s!Itallbecomesclear.Igapeupathimasadrenalinespikesthoughmybodyanew.Okay—that’sgotmyattention—I’mawakenow.

           “Ihavescissorshere.”Heholdsthemupformetosee.“Icancutyououtofthisinamoment.”

           Itrytopullmywristsapart,testingmybonds,andasIdo,theplasticbitesintomyflesh.It’ssore,butifIrelaxmywriststhey’refine—thetieisnotcuttingintomyskin.

           “Come.”Hetakesmyhandsandleadsmeovertothefour-posterbed.Inoticenowthatithasdarkredsheetsonitandashackleateachcorner.

           Heleansdownandwhispersinmyear,“Iwantmore—much,muchmore.”

           Andmyheartbeatstartspoundingagain.Ohboy.

           “ButI’llmakethisquick.You’retired.Holdontothepost,”hesays.

           Ifrown.Notonthebedthen?IfindIcanpartmyhandsasIgrasptheornatelycarvedwoodenpost.

           “Lower,”heorders.“Good.Don’tletgo.