I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy, or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. I hope you—as a fellow fan—enjoy it, too.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Al says ceremoniously at my dining table holding a glass of Cabernet, “We are here to bid a not-so-fond farewell to Ms. Anastasia Steele’s self-imposed vow of celibacy!” I hide my face in my hands.
“I love you guys, but you are so full of shit!” I whine.
“Oh girl, please,” Val says, “Edward really fucked you up for a while. I thought we’d never see an end to your four-year drought!” She clinks glasses with Al.
“That boyfriend of yours is really hot,” Maxie adds. I note a glare from Phil. “I just said he’s hot, I didn’t say I wanted to jump his bones!” Maxie rolls her eyes.
“Yes, he is,” I say, rather breathily, “but I wouldn’t call him my boyfriend just yet.”
“And why not?” Al asks. I sigh. Here comes the third degree.
“He says that he doesn’t have girlfriends.”
The room falls totally silent.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Gary exclaims.
“I’m not entirely sure, but I do plan to ask him. I guess he’s never had a permanent, long-term relationship before now. I asked what that meant for us, but we agreed to just see where this goes since neither one of us is trying to get to the altar or anything,” I inform them.
“So… what? You’re just… screwing?” Val asks.
“No,” I say coyly, “we’re fucking!” I exclaim shamelessly, and the table breaks out in laughter. “Insanely hot, juicy, delectable, incredible fucking, I say!”
“Well, the way he’s clawing at you, I’d say you guys are doing more than just fucking,” Phil says. I don’t dare believe that. I feel an amazing connection when he touches me. The electricity is insane, but it could just be the sexual energy.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
“Are you starting to feel something for him, Ana?” Val asks, cautiously. So, should I be honest or resort back to the Academy?
“Maybe a little, yes,” I begin, “but… I live in the real world, okay? I am not Cinderella and this is not the Prince’s Ball. If being with Edward has taught me anything, it’s that everything that glitters is not gold. So, if it goes anywhere, fine; and if it doesn’t, that’s okay, too. But if you don’t mind, I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts, okay?” I go to the kitchen to refill my wine glass. Al looks knowingly at me. “He’ll probably come over here again, Al.”
“I didn’t say anything, Jewel. I know you’re a smart girl.”
“Okay, enough raggin‘ on my girl, now,” Maxie says. “She’s had a rough time of it and I for one am very happy to know that she is finally getting laid!”
“Hear, hear!” Gary raises his glass and the others join in.
“But I will say this, Hon.” Maxie leans on the breakfast bar. “You texted that man, and within three minutes he called you. Within ten minutes, he was at your location. I’d say that’s more than just a fuck.” She raises her eyebrows. “And speaking of fuck, Phil, let’s go!”
“Right behind you, babe!” Phil jumps out of his seat like a leprechaun. They say their goodbyes to us and go off to seek their passions.
“That’s my cue, too. Bethany wants to try that new Mexican restaurant everybody’s talking about but can’t pronounce.” He kisses me on the cheek. “Love ya, Babes.”
“Me, too” Val says, “remember, I’m in a race to get my legs up in the air before you do.” We giggle and I close the door behind them. I turn to Al.
“It’s just us now, Jewel.” He walks over to me. “I haven’t been around him enough yet, but I can tell that there’s definitely something there.” I sigh heavily.
“I haven’t felt this way in such a long time.” I wipe my hands over my face. “I don’t know if it’s the sexual attraction or infatuation. We all know that I was really into Edward, but with Christian, it’s different. It’s like we connect on some cosmic level—even when I hated the guy. I couldn’t explain his magnetism… his pull. It’s like I was drawn to him. He was horrible; he was an asshole; he got on my last nerve… but I was still drawn to him. I thought it was just the physical attraction. I mean, let’s face it, he’s HOT. It was… just…” I’m battling for my words. “Out of nowhere, I would just start thinking about him. One minute I’d want to strangle him and the next minute I would… just want to be near him.” I plop down on the sofa. “And now I’m having all these warm and tingly feelings that I used to have when Edward and I were happy. I hear myself telling you to go for it with both guns and then tell myself ‘Whoa, pump ya brakes there, Girlie!’ How can I be such a fucking hypocrite?”
“My, how the tables have turned.” Al sits next to me and puts his arm around me. “Why don’t you call Mr. Tastee and see what the plans are so that I can take you to him if I need to?”
“I don’t want to put you out, Al. I’m okay to drive.”
“I don’t mind, Babe. You’ve had a couple of glasses of wine and I would rather be safe than sorry.” He squeezes my arm. “I can’t lose my Jewel.” He smiles. I kiss him on the cheek.
“I love you, Al,” I say with a smile.
“I love you, more.” He hugs me again. “Now go call Diamond Dick!”
“Al!” I swat him on the arm with a pillow. I walk over to my purse and pull out my phone.
“Hi.” He answers on the first ring. I have to stop myself from breaking into giggles.
“I take it you’re free now.” Oh God, he is so sexy.
“I am,” I say, trying to control my anticipation.
“Would you like to come to my place? Have you had dinner yet?” he asks
“I would love to come to your place and no, I haven’t eaten yet.”
“I know you were going to have drinks with your friends. Are you okay to drive?”
“Well, we had drinks at my apartment so I am safe and sound, but I’m okay to get to your place.”
“NO, SHE’S NOT!” Al calls from behind me. I throw him a dirty look.
“Al has offered to drop me wherever I need to go,” I snap, mainly at Al.
“We’ve kept Allen from his companion long enough. I’ll send Davenport to pick you up.”
“You mean you’ll tell him to come from up the street and meet me at the door, right?” I ask knowingly. Christian laughs.
“Pretty much,” he concedes.
“Al and I will go downstairs and wait for Davenport.”
“And I’ll be here waiting for you.” Fuck! Why did my knees just go weak?
“Okay,” I squeak. “See you in a few.” I end the call and take a deep breath. “Even his voice does things to me.” Al comes around the sofa.
“I’ve got news for you, Cinderella. I would bet my inheritance that you’ve just found your Prince Charming.”
“You don’t have an inheritance, Al.” I go to my bedroom and throw a few things in my overnight case, then I pick up my purse and my keys and we walk to the elevator after I lock up my apartment. The elevator ride is quiet as I contemplate my current situation. When we get to the ground floor, I see Davenport just outside the doors, double-parked and waiting outside of a black Audi S8 for me. Does this man buy anything besides Audis? Before we walk out of the door, I turn to Al.
“I haven’t known this man five minutes. I’m not going to give him my heart that quickly.” He kisses me on the cheek.
“I hate to tell you this, Jewel, but it may not be up to you.” He winks at me and walks me out to Davenport before going to the parking garage to get his car.
My little Butterfly has told me that she hasn’t had anything for dinner. Although I suck at cooking, my housekeeper Mrs. Jones always leaves me prepared for just such an emergency. Taylor and Mrs. Jones have been seeing each other since very shortly after they both came into my employ. I’ve dismissed Taylor for the evening so that they can spend some time together. To make sure that something is ready for Ana when she arrives, I place some mustard-dill tortellini salad skewers on a platter along with some melon, mozzarella, and prosciutto skewers since those are served cold. Knowing how she likes light finger foods, I put the Thai Chicken Satay in the oven to warm, and I heat the gourmet crab cakes in the microwave and serve them with bruschetta. Just as I’m plating the last of the food, my little pink princess comes cascading through the great room. “It’s good to see you, Ms. Steele,” I greet as she makes her way to my kitchen.
“It’s good to see you, too, Mr. Grey,” she replies in a husky, sultry voice. I immediately have to adjust myself before I wrap her in my arms. She feels so good here… right where she belongs. I pull her back just enough to plant soft, sensual kisses on her lips. When I pull away, her eyes are still closed and she’s lost in the moment. I brush my lips gently against hers to bring her back. “Come and eat, Baby,” I whisper against her mouth.
“Okay,” she whimpers compliantly. She has no idea how much this is turning me on. I walk her over to the breakfast bar. Let Operation Forget David begin. I pour a glass of Bollinger for each of us and proceed to feed her and myself various items from each platter. Each time my fingers touch her mouth, I can’t help but imagine those soft lips wrapped around a different body part. It doesn’t help much that she moans appreciatively at each morsel.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” she smiles.
“I can’t,” I confess. “My housekeeper, Mrs. Jones, does all of the cooking. These are things that she prepared in advance for the weekend.” I can tell she feels a little uncomfortable.
“Do you normally have company for the weekend?” she asks tentatively.
“Yes, I do,” I answer honestly. She drops her eyes. I lift her chin so that I can look at her. “But I haven’t for a while.” She looks at me briefly, then drops her head again. I gently stroke her cheek and allow my hands to go into her hair. “You are so beautiful.” She looks up at me, almost incredulously. “Talk to me,” I say softly. She sighs heavily.
“I’m being silly, Christian. Please don’t pay this any attention,” she implores.
“Please, I want to know what you’re thinking.” She folds her arms around herself.
“Before you, I haven’t been with anybody else but Edward… and even that was nearly four years ago.” Does she still love him? Does she want to go back to him? Was he right about being in her heart forever?
“Okay,” I prompt her to continue.
“I don’t know what to do… how to feel…” She’s struggling with her words. I’ve never seen her do that before. Dr. Steele always knows exactly what she wants to say in my presence.
“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t want this?” I ask. Please don’t let that be true.
“No!” she exclaims. “That’s not it at all!” Whew! Thank fuck for that. “I’m just… out of my element. I don’t know what to do.” She sighs heavily. She’s looking everywhere but at me. I take her hands in mine.
“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?” I ask. She sighs heavily again.
“You have no idea,” she replies, her voice thick with tears.
I can’t talk about this right now. I won’t talk about this here. I won’t taint this place with thoughts of that bastard. But what do I do next? How do I proceed? This strange, out-of-this-world beautiful man is still before me and I don’t know what to do. I’m the doctor… and I don’t know what to do. I have to tell him…
“I’m afraid.” There, I said it. He gapes at me.
“Afraid of what?” he asks.
“Of getting hurt again,” I choke. “I’d rather walk away than get hurt again.” And there it is—all wrapped up in an ugly little package. The reason why I refused to get back into the dating scene for nearly four years. The reason why Cabernet and television became my weekend companions instead of some handsome young man somewhere like the one sitting in front of me now. The reason why I sit here feeling a myriad of emotions for this man who has been nothing but tender, caring and passionate to me for the last 24 hours, terrified to tell him that I think I may be falling for him. It was just sex. It was only one night! How could this be happening? This can’t be happening. I’m a rational human being! But I can’t explain why my heart speeds up when I see him, or when I think I’m going to see him. How I can’t remember anything before last night. I remember the days well enough, but not the nights. I only remember Christian. And it’s not just the sex. I mean, granted, the sex was… wow! But when I saw him in the Marketplace, when he came back to my apartment while Edward was there, when I walked in here tonight—all I wanted was to be in his arms…
To feel his warmth and his heartbeat.
To have him hold me.
To feel him kiss me.
Just to be near him.
And it scares me to death.
I’m brought back to the here and now when Christian reaches over to wipe the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. I didn’t even know that I was crying. Fuck, the weepy bitch is back. No room for her at this party! Get it together, Steele! I do my best to wrangle my emotions before I hear him say something that could cause me to turn to mush all back over again:
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
What!? Am I hearing things? “Huh?” I say in utter disbelief. He stands up and comes closer to me. He puts his hands on either side of my face, looks me in the eye and says,
“I. Will never. Let anyone. Hurt. You. Again.”
She’s falling for me. I feel it. I know it. She all but said it… and she’s terrified. Shit, I’m terrified too. But we can be terrified together. We can muddle our way through this. But she has to know that I’ll protect her, that I’ll never let harm come to her—physically or emotionally. She has to know…
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
“Huh?” She’s like a deer in headlights. She has to hear me. She has to hear what I’m saying!
“I. Will never. Let anyone. Hurt. You. Again.”
“W… wh… h…” Her face is marked with confusion. “What… what do you mean? What are you saying, Christian?”
“I’m saying that I want you, Anastasia.” She has to know. She must know what I’m feeling. The moment I discovered she was in the Marketplace at the same time as David, something… grabbed me. Something pulled me like the clutches of humanity and wouldn’t let me go. I felt like I was losing her, like that fucker would whisk her away and I’d never see her again, like this whole thing would be a wonderful dream that would torture me at night like the nightmares that have haunted me for years. My running to her side today was mostly for her protection, but mainly for my peace. I had to be near her. I had to feel her presence. I feel like some cruel twist of fate is going to come and snatch her away from me any second, and I can’t let that happen. “From the moment I saw you, I wanted you, Anastasia. The moment you walked into that room at the community center, I was floored. I know I had a funny way of showing it… but I wanted you to be mine even then.”
“But… the girlfriend thing…”
“I want you, Anastasia.” I say, clasping her hands gently. “I want you to be mine.”
What does he mean he’ll never let anyone hurt me again? Is he talking about what happened to me in high school? Is he talking about Cody… or Edward? What is he saying?
“I’m saying that I want you, Anastasia.” He said it without missing a beat, but his expression is tortured, like he’s fighting some inner demons that I’m afraid will come out and gobble me up. We don’t even know each other, but I can’t deny what I feel. I feel the need to be near this man. And now, he wants me? He wants me how? I need more… “From the moment I saw you, I wanted you, Anastasia. The moment you walked into that room at the community center, I was floored. I know I had a funny way of showing it…” No shit! I thought you fucking hated me! “… But I wanted you to be mine even then.”
“But… the girlfriend thing…” I sputter. How can he say that he wants me when he’s never even had a girlfriend?
“I want you, Anastasia,” he says, taking my hands in his. “I want you to be mine.”
I feel the breath leave my body all at once. Mine. His. Holy. Cow. Batman. I’m actually feeling a little light-headed. Stop with the girly bullshit, Steele! Pay attention! This is a pivotal moment!
You fuck this up and I’m leaving!
Ooooo! That’s tempting all by itself…
You need me, Heifer! You know you do!
Shut the hell up! I need to think.
What is there to think about? Deliciously, gorgeous, hunky billionaire just said he wants you. Have you been sniffing glue or something?
Oh, Bosco… I call to my imaginary friend.
Okay, okay, I’m shutting up!
I sigh heavily. I don’t know what to think. I want this so badly. I’ve wanted it for… I don’t know how long. Since I first saw him? Since the wet dream? Since the kiss? I don’t know! Before I know it, he’s crushing me is his arms.
“Please, Ana.” Oh. My. God. He feels so good. “Please… Just give me a chance…” This is one of those deciding moments in life that can change the entire outcome of your future. He’s holding me so close that I can’t think. His hands on my back feel marvelous. His breath on my skin—outstanding. And he smells divine. But do I follow my heart—and my body—and jump, or do I do the sensible thing? Follow my mind and wait… or do I tell them both to fuck off and just run? If I open myself to him and he hurts me, I’m going to be crushed! And this is moving so damn fast!
You said no more running.
I was talking about something else, and you know it.
Just hear me out! You’ve been fantasizing about this man for weeks. You’ve been feeling a pull to him for longer than just the one night you spent in bed with him. Yeah, you better find out some more about him before we both end up face down on the concrete! But don’t turn your back on our first chance at happiness since the double-dicker fiasco.
Oh great! Now you’re calling him that too!
Hey, if the shoe fits…
Oh, shit! This is going to hurt… I just know it is. I close my eyes and melt into Christian’s body.
I can see a thousand thoughts running simultaneously across her face. Please, don’t run. I pull her close to me. “Please, Ana.” She has to feel what I’m feeling. I bury my nose in her hair. I feel comfort from her scent. She has to be mine. She has to… “Please… Just give me a chance.” I hold her there for what feels like hours, rubbing her back and relishing the feeling of her in my arms. After a while, I feel her body relax, but I don’t know if its defeat, comfort, or resignation. I prepare myself for the worst when she takes a deep breath and whispers,
Did she say okay? Was I hearing things?
“You will?” I ask incredulously, pulling her back so that I can see her face.
“Yes,” she says timidly. Oh, thank whoever up there is listening! I place my lips gently on hers and try to relay my gratitude—for lack of a better word. Somebody somewhere thinks I just may have a right to try to be happy… and one of those people is right here in my arms.
“You won’t regret it, baby,” I say when I pull away from the kiss.
“Well, we’ll see… but I have conditions,” she says. Oh shit, conditions. It doesn’t matter. Right now, I’ll do anything she asks.
“Okay,” I say taking my seat again. “What are your conditions?”
“This covert surveillance… it’s making me feel like a rat in a cage.” I run my fingers through my hair.
“I have them there for your protection, Ana. David is becoming unstable.”
“But that’s not why they were there in the first place,” she retorts. “You wanted to see what I was doing and where I was going, and you eventually used that information to get next to me—which in the end is kind of cute—but it doesn’t dismiss the fact that you were being dishonest with me, Christian. I can’t have that,” she says sternly.
“You can’t have the dishonesty or you can’t have the surveillance?” I ask cautiously. She rolls her eyes. My hands tighten on hers a bit.
“What?” she asks, obviously noticing the change in my grip.
“Nothing. We’ll discuss it later. Right now, I’m more concerned about your issues. Dishonesty, I know you won’t tolerate, but the surveillance…”
“I can take care of myself,” she says.
“Oh, I’m fully aware of that.” She rolls her eyes again, and now I have to tell her. “Anastasia, don’t roll your eyes at me.” Her head pops back like a peacock.
“Excuse me?” Her pupils are a bit piercing.
“It’s rude… and it has a similar effect as when you bite your lip, only quite different.” I say running my hand through my hair.
“What do you mean?” she insists.
“We’ll talk about it later.” She snatches her hands from mine.
“Okay, perfect timing! That’s the second time in as many minutes that you’ve said, ‘we’ll talk about it later,’ so we need to talk about it now. My next condition, I don’t need skeletons coming out of random closets and knocking me upside my head, so you need to come clean with me.” Oh shit, this is not how I planned this evening.
“You’ll run away screaming if I come clean with you,” I say, defeated.
“I guarantee you that I’ll run away if you don’t.” She stands. “I have huge trust issues,” Join the club! “You have to give me the good, the bad, and the ugly coming right out of the gate because I can’t deal with shit falling on my head. If I know what’s coming, what to expect, what history there is, I can be prepared. If I don’t know what’s coming, if I’m surprised, if shit pops up at me like a Jack-in-the-box, not only am I not prepared, but also, I’m pissed!”
“What about your secrets, Ana?” I say defensively. “Will you be as open with your skeletons?”
Her mouth flies open. “You’ve got my background check!” she snaps.
“You have mine, too!” I retort. She folds her arms.
“Well, let’s see.” Oh hell, she’s in that stance. She’s ready to do battle. “Besides the horrible shit from Green Valley and the lying, cheating psycho ex-boyfriend which are both in my background check I’m sure, there’s the cruel stepfather and the selfish bitch of a mother and, um-er-uh, I think we’ve covered it, Partner! Any questions?” She’s glaring at me now causing me to sink back a bit in my stool. “So, tell me, Mr. Grey, what doesn’t your background check tell me?” she snaps. I run my hands through my hair and stand up from the stool. I take her hand and lead her through the great room, up the stairs, and to the place I once felt was my salvation and now feel will be my doom. If I tell her now, I could lose her; but if she finds out later, I’ll definitely lose her.
Ball’s in your court, Grey. I realize that I have conveniently left out the bulk of the Green Valley story, but he has to give me something first. The scars on his chest, the way he reacted when I rolled my eyes, the constant surveillance… give me something here, Grey. He stands from his stool and drops his head almost like a chastised toddler. He grabs my hand and starts to lead me upstairs. I hope he doesn’t think we are about to fuck right in the middle of this very important conversation. We stop at a locked door at the top of the stairs. He unlocks the door and takes a deep breath.
“Before you see this, can I ask that you please keep an open mind? Don’t judge me immediately on the first thing you see or feel. Okay?” His eyes are pleading as he looks at me. Okay, this is going to be disturbing. I pull out Dr. Anastasia Steele, PsyD. and put on my game face.
“Okay,” I say. He opens the door and stands to the side. “The light switch is right next to the door.” I walk into the room like a woman walking the “Green Mile.” When I hit the switch, ambient lighting cascades off a room with deep red walls and dark wood furniture, most of which appear baroque in style. To my left is a beautiful four-poster bed. A cross with leather shackles on all four corners and a strange padded bench adorn the wall directly across from me. A deep brownish red Chesterfield sofa sits almost in the middle of the room. Many thoughts run through my mind as I take in the various instruments of torture that my eyes fall upon in this room—whips, canes, belts, floggers, cats and crops; and the restraint devices—metal cuffs, leather cuffs, chains hanging from carabiners on the ceiling. There’s a museum chest or chest of drawers or tall boy to my immediate right with several drawers. I can only imagine what kinds of objects are housed in there. I stay calm, but there’s a battle raging inside of me.
Run, Forrest, run!
Oh, no, but you said this was a chance of a lifetime.
I was wrong! He’s a fucking psycho! Run, dammit!
I listened to you the first time, now I’m listening to me. Shut the hell up!
You don’t have to tell me twice—I’m not sticking around for this shit, Exit, stage left!
Now that I’ve gotten rid of that annoying Bitch, the doctor in me takes in my surroundings very carefully. There are many, many reasons why someone partakes in this type of lifestyle. I want to know his. After several minutes of silence, I ask, “Dungeon?” He looks surprised for a moment, then answers, “Playroom.”
“Are you the Dom or the sub?”
She hasn’t run away screaming yet. That’s a good sign… I think. The first time I have her in my apartment and I’m not fucking her or making her scream my name; I’m showing her my damn playroom and she’s not even part of the lifestyle. What the fuck am I doing? What the hell is she doing to me?
She walks around the room looking at nearly every single item for quite some time, saying nothing. Her face isn’t giving anything away. No horror, no fear, no delight, nothing. Her voice almost startles me when she asks, “Dungeon?”
God, no! Most people outside of the lifestyle immediately see a torture chamber when they see these things. That’s why I was afraid to bring her in here in the first place. Here we go…
“Playroom,” I reply. She nods.
“Are you the Dom or the sub?” she asks without making eye contact with me. Shit! She is familiar with the lifestyle.
“I’m the Dom.” She nods again.
“I can totally see you being that guy,” she says stoically. I don’t know if I like the sound of that… “That’s why you reacted that way to my eye-rolling, right?”
“Yes,” I say, coolly.
“Why do you do it?” she asks.
“I need control,” I answer. It runs so much deeper than that, but I don’t know how much she can take in one night.
“Why do you need this kind of control?” She knows the right questions to ask, but I’m having a hard time trying to think of the right answers. “Don’t sugarcoat it, Christian. Why do you need this type of control?”
She’s so damn defiant. I’m not accustomed to women being defiant to me, especially in this room.
“I needed to regain the control that was taken away from me as a child. When I became an adult, I needed to retain that control. That’s all I can give you right now.” This is fucking hard to talk about. She’s going to have to accept that for now.
“Fair enough… for now, but we will revisit that issue,” she says. Shit, she sounds like Flynn. Fucking shrinks. How did I manage to fall for a fucking shrink? “When did you start?” she continues her interrogation.
“When I was 15.” Her head jerks over to me. She’s looking at me now. Shit! I should have had her sign an NDA. But what message would that have sent? I want you to be mine. I want to protect you. By the way, would you please sign this non-disclosure agreement so that I can show you my torture chamber?
“You were 15?” she asks, incredulously. “How did that happen?”
“I was the sub, then.” I add. Her mouth falls open.
“Someone introduced you to BDSM at the age of 15 and you were the submissive?” I nod. “Who in their right mind does that? You were a child. I don’t understand! This is a lifestyle for consenting adults. You were a child! Isn’t that abuse? Doesn’t that go against everything on which the lifestyle is based? Bondage and discipline, yes, but wanton abuse of a child?”
“I consented,” I protest softly, lacking the conviction I once had when defending Elena’s actions back then.
“You were 15. You were a child. You couldn’t consent to anything!” She’s getting upset.
“I was a teenager,” I respond.
“You were a minor! And how old was… she?”
“Yes, it was a ‘she.’ She was old enough to be arrested if I had said anything.” I walk further into the room. She backs away from me… but not in fear, it seems-more in disbelief. She turns away and looks around the room again.
“She took advantage of you!” she snaps.
“I know.” Ana’s head does that little pop it does when she is utterly surprised. Had this been any day prior to yesterday, I would have argued her down about Elena and the nature of our relationship. I would have used every seemingly logical point of reference in my arsenal to show her that my dear friend Mrs. Lincoln was doing everything to save me—to pull me back from the pits of hell—but the truth is that although she pulled me from one purgatory, she placed me into another… with no hope of purification.
“How did this relationship—for lack of a better word—begin? I mean, I’m 26 and I can’t even begin to contemplate how I would approach a 15-year-old child.” Her voice has softened. She shudders a bit and I can see that she contemplated the thought for a moment and it gave her a chill.
“I was 15, she was an older woman. I was horny, she was hot. I wanted to fuck, she wanted to fuck me. Not the prettiest story, but it’s the truth,” I say.
“So basically, she was a pedophile?” she asks. She figured out in a few minutes what I refused to see for 14 damn years.
“Yes. That’s correct,” I answer solemnly. I need to be near her now. I don’t want to hash this shit out at this moment. I want to feel my Butterfly.
“Why did you continue? I know the sexual push can be powerful, but I don’t know a child alive that would willingly be bound and beaten.” She wraps her arms around herself. I can see a bit of reminiscence in her eyes… and not in a good way. She was 15, too.
“She used it as a tool,” I begin. “First, it was light bondage and sex games, but she didn’t fail to tell me that punishments would follow if I misbehaved.”
“Misbehaved?” she asks. “Like rolling your eyes?” she adds sarcastically
“Well, yes, but I wouldn’t dare roll my eyes at her,” I respond.
“Drinking. Fighting in school. Bad grades…”
“Things your parents should have handled!” she retorts.
“My parents couldn’t handle me. I was out of control!” I respond. She sighed heavily. “By the time I warranted a real punishment—more than little slaps and pain games that actually turned me on—I wanted it too badly. I was way in and sometimes, I craved it. It was the only thing that seemed normal in my life at the time.”
“And now?” she asks cautiously.
“I don’t know, yet. I don’t know where it fits. My life has sort of been turned upside down here,” I confess. I see the slight beginning of a smile, but then it disappears.
“So… that’s why no girlfriends. They weren’t really conducive to this sort of thing, were they?” I can’t say that I really like her tone.
“Like-minded people can have a perfectly normal, long-term BDSM relationship,” I defend. “There are even some married couples in the lifestyle. I was just never interested in anything permanent.”
“More of a ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ type of guy, are you?” she accuses. I purse my lips.
“Not necessarily, no,” I say curtly. “I have been just in no hurry to take any of my former submissives home to meet Mommy.” It’s hard to hide my ire. Noting my growing displeasure, she changes the tone of the conversation.
“What was your first real punishment?” Oh, God. I knew this was coming.
“I had been fighting in school—I can’t even remember why—but my mom told her…”
“Your mom!?” she says in utter disbelief.
“They were friends and my mom didn’t know what was going on… still doesn’t.” I can only describe this look on her face as utter disgust. She’s horrified. “Anyway, I came to her house that day—I had been doing yardwork for her as a cover for our… relationship… and she invited me in as usual. She took me to her playroom, chained me to the wall and gave me ten lashes with the whip.” Ana’s hand flies up to her mouth. “Some activities of punishment are for pain; some pain is for pleasure; that pain definitely was not pleasurable… and I never forgot it.”
“I can imagine,” he squeaks, just above a whisper. I walk a little closer to her.
“I behaved in school after that. Never gave my parents any problems in that area—even though I was still a hard kid to deal with… even harder to get close to.” I’m going to have to get her out of this room. Standing here with her is making me think of all kinds of indecent things that I want to do to her. “I made sure to rarely be punished, because the pleasure in the play was exquisite. She tested my limits, taught me control of my body. Yes, I was too young to be exposed to those things, but overall, I learned the necessary techniques—through pain and pleasure—to bring the body torturous ecstasy.” I am itching to get my hands on her. I can’t take much more of this conversation. Her breathing hitches… she can’t take much more of it either.
“What made you change roles?” she continues, turning away from me. I take this opportunity to close the gap between us, walking over to her and standing right behind her without touching her.
“I saw the control it gave her over me.” She gasps at my breath on her neck. I see goose bumps. Is she getting turned on? In here…? Oh, joy! “I wanted to experience that control.”
“So how did you learn?” she asks softly.
“She taught me.” I’m outlining her body the way I did at the club that first night while I watched her dance—not touching her, but feeling her energy, and no doubt transmitting my own.
“So, she subbed for you?” she says, trying to control her breathing. She is getting turned on—and it’s driving me wild!
“Yes,” I respond, still mere breaths away from her.
“Do you expect me to sub for you?” she asks softly. I pause.
“Only if you want to,” I answer. Her body is calling me, and my body wants to answer, but I have to control it. I won’t touch her in this room unless I’m completely sure that’s what she wants.
“Well, I won’t be doing that… or that… or that… that looks like it could be fun though… but not that…” I don’t bother paying attention to what she’s pointing to, because when and if the time comes, we’ll talk before I do anything. I gently brush my lips over her bare shoulders. I can’t take being this close to her and not touching her. She gasps at my touch and scurries over to the sofa sitting in the middle of the room. She slowly sits on the sofa looking at me with lustful eyes.
“Anastasia,” I say, trying to control my breathing. “This room… I can’t be in here… with you…”
“Why not?” she says, parting her legs slightly so that her dress drapes between them. FUCK! My dick is doing a Merengue in my boxer briefs.
“Because,” I say walking over to her, my erection nearly bursting out of my pants, “This room makes me want to do unspeakable things to your body.”
“Unspeakable?” she squeaks as I kneel on the floor in front of her and she leans back on the sofa. I gently bite her nipple through her dress. “Ah!”
“Unspeakable,” I say as I reach under her dress and stroke her calves, slowly raising her dress as my hands travel up her legs to her thighs, her hips, exposing her pretty pink Victoria’s Secret panties. Oh, how cute they are… but they’re in my way. I rip the pretty little lacy things off her, revealing my prize underneath.
“Why do I even bother wearing panties when I’m going to see you?” she pants.
“Good question,” I ask as I pull her hips to me.
“Christian… wait… we have to talk some more,” she says between heavy breaths.
“Oh, we will,” I say as I bury my nose in her core. She smells divine. “But right now…” I spread her thighs and throw them over my shoulders. I allow my tongue the taste of heaven it’s been craving since she floated into the great room. I explore every crevice of her sweet flower, tasting the juices that escape from her and then massaging her clit with relentless precision.
“Christian! Oh God!” she cries as she clutches my hair. She’s grinding into my face and I’m loving every second of it. I look up at her as I delight in her flavor and savor her juices. She’s watching me feast on her most sensitive parts and the pleasure in her face is intoxicating—her eyes hooded and her mouth open, releasing gasps of pleasure with every stroke of my expert tongue. I suckle her clit gently resulting in a loud hiss of delectation. I feel her starting to throb against my lips, a small shiver in her thighs, and that slight sheen of sweat that comes with her arousal.
I pin her hips down to eliminate her gyrations, and moments later, she explodes in my mouth. “Christian!” she screams! “Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” I look up to see her in the throes of her orgasm, head thrown back, breathing heavily—she looks glorious! I wring every bit of pleasure out of her as she begs me to stop her torment. She was so ready for me. I wonder if that was a result of seeing the playroom?
“Ah… Christian… please… stop…” She’s writhing under my tongue and grabbing at my hands clasped onto her thighs. I know that her clit is tender and the continued manipulation could become uncomfortable, so I stop my rhythm and blow gently, cooling the sensation to her nub. “Ah… aaahhh… ” Her breathing is slowing now. “Oh, Christian…” she purrs in satisfaction as her body relaxes onto the sofa. I kiss and nip the tender flesh inside her thighs. “Christian, please…” I know her body is all sensation. She arches her back trying to control her reaction.
“Stop doing that or I’m going to eat you again,” I growl in her core.
“Ah… stop doing that!” she squeals as she attempts to scurry away from me. I move her legs from off my shoulders and lift her under her arms landing her on my erection waiting to burst out of my pants.
“Ugh!” I groan as she lands on my dick. Fuck, this is killing me! She looks at me with sensual eyes and bends down to kiss me, mixing the taste of her hot mouth with that of her sweet pussy. Holding my face in hers, she grinds gently on my cock. I’m going to come in my pants if she doesn’t stop. “Shit! Stop.”
“What?” she whispers as she wiggles provocatively on my restrained erection.
“Fuck! Ana, please!” I stand and lift her with me. I have to fuck her now, but not here. I carry her out of the playroom and back downstairs to my bedroom. I’ve never allowed a woman in here, but since this is going to be a different kind of relationship, there’s a first for everything. I lay my beautiful Butterfly on the bed and lean over her, gently kissing her neck, shoulders and chest just above her dress. Somehow, she manages to roll me on my back.
“Whoa!” I exclaim as I look up and see her chestnut waves cascading down into my face. She kisses me deeply. She’s so full of passion—it’s irresistible! Her lips move to my chin, my jaw, down my neck. When I feel her pulling my T-shirt out of my pants, I freeze. Her hands are on my bare stomach and I start to panic. “Ana, no… don’t.” I barely recognize my own voice. She stops and looks at me and her expression changes drastically. I see… concern.
“What’s wrong?” she says, softly.
“Please… don’t touch my chest.” I can’t let her touch me there. No one has touched me there. Please don’t make me explain now. Just don’t touch it. She looks at me for a few more moments, then removes her hands from under my shirt. She reaches down to my hand and says, “Okay.”
Okay? No questions? No problems? No issues? Just okay? I release a huge sigh. Thank God for that! The last thing I want is for Ana to feel rejected, and telling her not to touch me could have done just that. Instead, my little vixen brings my hand up to her lips and gently kisses each finger. Fuck! Now how does that make me hornier? I lick my lips; the flavor of her juices is still lingering there. She takes my hand and slowly rubs it down her chest to her perfect breast, framed exquisitely in this pink dress.
“You can touch my chest, though,” she whispers as she pushes her breast into my hand.
“Christ, Ana!” I growl as I sit up and take both her breasts in my hands and her mouth with mine. David must be losing his fucking mind knowing that she’s giving this to me. This woman is insanely hot and sensual, and you never would have known that she had this prowess hiding inside her just by looking at her! I feel her unbuttoning my fly. She puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me back down on the bed, careful not to touch my chest. She’s so compassionate and understanding as well as sultry and sexy. She shimmies down my body past my erection, rubbing it through my jeans.
“Ah!” God, she feels so good. She starts to peel my jeans and underwear down at the same time. I frantically kick off my sneakers so that she doesn’t have to stop and take them off. She giggles at me a little and she pulls off my jeans, boxer briefs, and socks all at once and discards them on the floor. My erection is standing proudly at full mast, and I can tell by the hungry look in her eyes what’s coming next. I guess I’ll be getting a “taste” of her oral skills after all.
“I never said ‘I’m sorry,'” she says as she begins to crawl up the bed, parting my legs.
“What?” I ask, almost in a daze, those gorgeous sapphire eyes looking up at me through those long lashes as she stalks me like a sexy ass panther.
“I never said ‘I’m sorry,'” she says, softly, “for the horrible things I said to you on Monday.” Carlisle’s words choose this time to come back to me. Tell the kid I said hello when she gives you that apology. She settles between my legs and gently starts to stroke my cock. Holy shit!
“Ron says, ‘Hello,'” I spit, unable to control my thoughts.
“What?” she asks, confused, with a little mirth in her voice.
“Ron told me to tell you ‘hello’ when you gave me that apology!” I spit again. Shit, her hand is so soft.
“Oh,” she nods, “Okay.” She runs her tongue skillfully over the head of my penis. I’m flexing my hands to try to control myself. “Tell him I said, ‘Hi,'” she says right before sucking just the head between her beautiful soft lips.
“Aahhaah! Yeah! Sure! Okay!” Whose voice was that?
She’s teasing my dick with expert precision—sucking the head forcefully and then dropping down on the shaft, taking the head in her throat. Fuck! And shit, does she know how to read a man’s body! Just as I feel like I’m about to come the first time, she stops her assault, but wraps her lips around the sides of the shaft to keep slight stimulation going. I see a small amount of cum shoot from my dick, but then the feeling subsides.
“Shit, Ana!” I proclaim as she tortures me, grabbing the sheets so that I don’t grab her head and distract her. She doesn’t say anything besides the occasional hum to add vibration to her assault. “Ah… oh, fuck!” I feel my legs shake a second time and she lightens her assault again, this time gently licking just the head again and applying pressure to the base to fend off my pending explosion. Holy mother of God, this woman is going to kill me…
As I feel him coming down from his second near-orgasm, I gently take his cock in my hand and stroke, with just enough pressure to keep the blood on the surface of the skin. I love doing this to him. I love the way his body responds. I can feel the change in his temperature and flex in his thighs. He wants to lose himself, but he’s not ready to surrender that control to me… not just yet. I can wait, Mr. Grey. I’ve been waiting this long, I can wait a little longer.
As I continue to stroke him, I take his balls in my mouth one at a time, feasting on them like the delicacy that they are and adding an occasional hum of delight. Oh, Christian, you taste so good. I tighten my grip on the head as I continue to assault his balls. I can tell that he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. I want to touch his chest so badly, to pinch his nipples and add to the sensation I know that he’s feeling, but I remember the scars in the photos and I’m assuming that he can’t tolerate that touch just yet. Maybe one day, Christian… but for right now, I’ll work with what I have.
When his balls start to stiffen, I know that he’s moments away from ejaculation again, so I slow my assault. “Ana… oh, God!” I can hear the frustration in his voice. I take him in my mouth again, as far as I can then release. He moans loudly. I repeat the move, sucking deeply, then release. He’s breathing heavily, like he can’t get any air. His head thrusts back on the bed so that he’s basically balancing on the top of it, holding on to the sheets for dear life. I take him in one last time, and release as I feel his body shaking ever so slightly. His jaw is tensing and he almost looks like he’s in pain. I stop for a moment and allow him to catch his breath as I gently tongue the head of his penis. His breathing is erratic.
“Breathe, baby,” I coax, gently, only softly licking his rock-hard member.
“Oh, God, Ana…” he chokes, “you’re going to kill me!”
“Breathe for me,” I coax, still stroking him softly. “In through the nose, out through the mouth…” He’s mimicking my action of breathing while gently thrusting his hips against my hand. “Oh, Ana…” he says, relaxing his grip on the sheets. “I want you… now!” He sits up, leaning on his elbows.
“Ah, ah, ah,” I scold, waving my index finger at him, “I’m not done apologizing yet.”
“Fuck! I accept! I accept!” he says, licking his bottom lip as I tighten my grip just slightly.
“Lay down, baby,” I say, softly.
“Oh, shit!” he says as he falls back on the bed. “Ana, please…!” And there it is. Surrender.
“Are you ready to come now?” I ask, softly.
“Huh?” he says, almost in surprise as he lifts his head to look at me. I reach down and push his feet up so that they are flat on the bed and his knees are bent. I push his legs open. “Oh, God!” he exclaims.
“I said. Are you ready. To come now?” He has this look in his eyes like he wants to say something, but all he says is, “Yes, baby.” I position myself on my knees for the final showdown.
“Grab my hair.” He looks at me wide-eyed.
“Ana, no,” he gasps. “I can’t be responsib… I might hurt you!”
“I can take it,” I say as I take his hands in mine and kiss his palms. Looking him in his eyes, I put his hands on my shoulders and drag them up and into my hair. Using my hands on his, I push myself down onto his awaiting erection. He gasps heavily. “Oh, fuck, Ana!” he cries. I let go of his hands and let him hold on while I ride his dick, fucking him deep and wetly with my mouth.
“Ana… oh… Ana…!” His cries are almost pained as he tries to keep from thrusting himself into my mouth. Still won’t surrender, huh? Okay. I take him deep again and suck hard, not pulling my head back—just sucking on his member while my tongue caresses the head and shaft.
“Fuck! Oh, fuck!” he gasps, now thrusting his hips off the bed. There we go… almost there. As he thrusts into my mouth, I can see he’s still afraid to grab my hair. So, I grab his ass, since I have easy access to it now. While he’s thrusting into my mouth, his ass is never touching the bed.
“Shit! Shit! Ana… oh, fuck…” He’s panting again. Come on, Grey. I squeeze his butt cheeks as he’s stroking into my mouth. Fuck me, Grey. Come on, you can do it. And in my last-ditch effort, I curl my fingers and dig my finely manicured nails into his cheeks.
“Oh, fuuuuck!” he cries, and his hands tighten in my hair. There it is! I’ve got you now… complete surrender! He’s clawing and pulling on my hair almost to the point of pain and thrusting ferociously into my mouth. He tried to hold off his orgasm as long as he could, but I know that it won’t be long now.
“Ah… ah… ah… ah… ah…” He’s grunting shamelessly with every stroke, still balancing himself on his feet and his back because his ass hasn’t touched the bed—and I’m fucking him right back, my mouth clamped tightly on his dick and his head hitting the back of my throat. I feel him pulsing in my mouth and I give him a long moan of appreciation.
“Oh, Ana, baby!” he exclaims and he starts to explode in my mouth. His hands are grasping desperately at my hair and his hips hang in midair as he thrusts violently into my mouth. When he tries to still, I pull back and continue the thrusts with my head, milking every drop from him… and it’s a LOT.
“Ana! God! Oh, God! Annnnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” It sounds like he’s weeping, but the continual stream down my throat says different. “Hah… hah… hah…Ana… please… aaaaaahhh.” Are we done yet? Yes? No? Let’s check. I run my tongue around the head and taste just a little more cum there. One more good strong suck…
“Aaaaaahhhhh… Ana! Ana, please….” He’s panting heavily, now. Well, I don’t want to kill him so I guess I better stop. I release my lips gently and he drops his hips. I sit up as his hands drop from my hair. I sit on my feet and deeply rub his thighs and his hips, massaging away the stiffness there. His legs are shaking profusely and even though he has deliciously beautiful thigh muscles, I know he got a serious workout with his pelvis suspended in air. I didn’t know a man’s back could arch that way.
Fucking hell! She could suck a tennis ball through a water hose! My fucking legs won’t stop shaking and my dick has been sucked into submission. Shit, I almost called her Mistress when she asked if I was ready to come!
You’re a fucking Dom, Man. Save some of your dignity!
Fuck dignity! That shit was good! She turned me into a little bitch and she knows it! I’m lying here trying to catch my breath and hoping to God that she doesn’t go anywhere near my dick right now. She’s rubbing my thighs, which is good because I feel like I just ran a damn marathon—and I’m flexing the fuck out of my hand so I know she lost some hair!
Where the fuck did this woman come from? And where the hell has she been hiding all my life?
“Ana…?” I’m still panting. “Baby… are you… okay?” She crawls up the bed to me and kisses me gently. I taste our juices mix in our mouths. So fucking hot!
“I’m fine, Christian.” Oh, yes, you are!
“I mean… your hair.” I’m still struggling just a bit with my breath. She smiles at me and lifts her beautiful mane over her head and bends down so that it cascades over my face. She gently sways her head from side to side so that her chestnut locks caress me. I breathe deeply to capture her exquisite scent.
“You tell me,” she purrs. “Is my hair okay?”
“Oh, Ana,” I say as I stroke her thighs and bare ass under her dress. “You’re enchanting.” I grasp her tightly around her waist and she gasps at the force. She moves her hair out of our faces.
“Christian,” she whispers before I plant a deep, searing kiss on her lips.
“Run, Forrest, run.” —Robin Wright, Forrest Gump
“Green Mile”—I know most of you have seen the movie, but the Green Mile represents the long walk to the electric chair.
“Exit, stage left”—I know this is probably in a lot of places, but mine comes from Snagglepuss—a Hanna-Barbera cartoon character
The Audi S8 and some of Christian’s Playroom furniture can be seen at http://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/paging-dr-steele/
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Love and Handcuffs!