Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 20
Hedoesn’tlingerformoresweetkissesbutrises,coversmewiththeduvet,anddisappearsintothebathroom.Onhisreturn,he’scarryingabottleofwhitelotion.Hesitsbesidemeonthebed.
“Rollover,”heorders,andbegrudginglyImoveontomyfront.
Honestly,allthisfuss.Ifeelverysleepy.
“Yourassisagloriouscolor,”hesaysapprovingly,andhetenderlymassagesthecoolinglotionintomypinkbehind.
“Spillthebeans,Grey.”Iyawn.
“MissSteele,youknowhowtoruinamoment.”
“Wehadadeal.”
“Howdoyoufeel?”
“Shortchanged.”
Hesighs,slidesinbesideme,andpullsmeintohisarms.Carefulnottotouchmystingingbehind,wearespooningagain.Hekissesmeverysoftlybesidemyear.
“Thewomanwhobroughtmeintothisworldwasacrackwhore,Anastasia.Gotosleep.”
Holyfuck…whatdoesthatmean?
“Was?”
“She’sdead.”
“Howlong?”
Hesighs.
“ShediedwhenIwasfour.Idon’treallyrememberher.Carrickhasgivenmesomedetails.Ionlyremembercertainthings.Pleasegotosleep.”
“Goodnight,Christian.”
“Goodnight,Ana.”
AndIslipintoadazedandexhaustedsleep,dreamingofafour-year-oldgray-eyedboyinadark,scary,miserableplace.
