One quick note to remember… when you open yourself up to ANY one extreme emotion, you open yourself up to them all.
This is a work of creativity. As such, you may see words, concepts, scenes, actions, behaviors, pictures, implements, and people that may or may not be socially acceptable and/or offensive. If you are sensitive to adverse and alternative subject matter of any kind, please do not proceed, because I guarantee you’ll find it here. You have been warned. Read at your own risk.
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. If something that I say displeases you, please, just leave. If you don’t like this story or me, please don’t spoil this experience for everyone. Just go away. For the rest of you, the saga continues…
Chapter 61—The Butterfly Effect
Oh… my God. I can’t take anymore. My dick is going to fall the fuck off.
She fucked me—literally fucked me—with her tits, her ass cheeks, her thighs, her mouth, her hands, and a wand. I have been so thoroughly fucked, more fucked than I’ve ever been in my whole life. I don’t ever remember coming that hard, ever… ever… ever! Greystone has grabbed a teddy bear and is curling up to go to sleep.
“Stop… stop… no more… please… no more…”
“Okay, Baby,” she says softly, and I hear the wand fall to the floor before she disappears into the bathroom. I’m taking small breaths, trying not to have a damn heart attack and Greystone is lying pitifully off to the right, drooling a bit in his sleep. Goodnight, Buddy.
There’s water dripping on my chest and mixing with my cum, and I realize that it must be sweat from my hair. Damn, that’s serious.
Butterfly comes back into the bedroom and I’m still in the restraints. I’m in no hurry to move at the moment anyway.
“Cool,” she says, and I have no idea what she’s talking about. When she starts to wipe my body down, I realize that she was trying to tell me that the washcloth was cool. I jump at first contact and she continues to lovingly clean the sweat and cum off my body. She uses a second washcloth on my face. When she reaches for Greystone, I immediately panic.
“Anaplease!” I say it like one word. She quickly put the cool cloth on my tender, flaccid penis and I nearly jump out of my skin.
“No more,” she says softly. “You asked me to stop, so no more. Okay?” I nod and barely raise my head to look at her. She puts a glass of water to my mouth and I empty it. She puts the glass on the night table and walks back over to me.
“I would say that I have satisfied you, Mr. Grey. Wouldn’t you?” she asks. I nod, still barely coherent in my post orgasmic haze. “Good. Now you need to satisfy me.” I raise my head and look up at her. She loosens one of my restraints—just enough to turn my hand around. Then she lowers herself onto my finger. She’s hot and wet inside and even though I couldn’t possibly fuck her right now, my body still yearns to touch her. I stiffen my finger and move it in that circular motion that hits all of her vaginal walls and she grinds into me.
“Mmmmm… yes,” she moans, throwing her head back. “You were so delicious… so horny and beautiful… I had to stop myself from coming three times,” she confesses, now fucking my hand.
“Three times,” I repeat. My voice is coming back after all that bitch-screaming.
“Three times,” she confirms, and I feel her tightening like she’s about to come on my hand. She has given me an immense amount of pleasure this evening. She has played this body like a fine instrument… like I’ve done to many women in the past, but no one has ever done it to me.
And she has done it again. Along with the many firsts that this evening has brought, she has eliminated the memory of the Pedophile and her brutal and vicious strap-on and replaced it with an extreme, erotic experience with a wand… the wand that I brought to use on her! The student has become the teacher.
Now that sexy little body is stroking my hand and moaning in pleasure, chasing orgasms that she denied herself to once again bring me pleasure. Fuck, she’s hot! As she rides my hand, all I can think of is all of this luscious juice going to waste. Some cosmic-sounding song is playing now and all I can make out that they’re saying is “deep inside.” It’s a sexy sounding groove and she’s grinding against my hand, looking quite edible, and she still has me tied down.
“Oh, baby, please release me so I can eat you,” I beg. She brings her head forward and continues to ride my hand.
“You sure about that, Mr. Grey?” she asks, arousal thick and heavy in her voice and her breathing.
“Please, baby, let me taste you,” I implore her. She rises from my hand and simultaneously releases my wrist restraints. I grab her by her ass, lifting her off the floor and quickly bounce her onto the bed. She yelps at my swift movements and I waste no time diving into her hot core. She gasps in a loud breath and comes immediately.
“Christian!” she shrieks, fisting my hair violently as I suck her tender clitoris. That was the orgasm she kept denying herself, and it was knocking at the door just waiting to get out.
“Aaahhh!” she cries as she raises her hips and rides out her first orgasm. “Oh, God, Christian, please!” she begs, as I feel her trying to wiggle away from me.
Oh no, baby, I’ve got you now!
I clamp my arms down around her hips, forcibly holding her thighs apart as she tries to get away. She’s pushing at me with her hands, begging for reprieve, but I continue to suck and lick that delicious pussy deeply. After a couple of minutes, she has resigned herself to her fate and begins to moan lustfully again.
“Oh, my God… oh, God…” she breathes, and she’s fisting my hair again. I moan into her most tender parts.
“Oooooooooh, Christian!” Her legs begin to tremble, and I know she’ll be coming again soon. That’s right, baby. Give it all to me. I crave you. I ache for your touch, your smell, your flavor, and I don’t intend to stop until I’m full. I’m devouring her juices like a starving man at a buffet. She’s decadently delicious. It seems like forever since I’ve tasted her even though it was just last night. The hunger is insane, and I must have more. I stick my tongue into her opening and roll it around her walls, taking in all of her sweet, sweet juices. Her hips rise off the bed again.
“Fuck!” she squeals as she pumps feverishly against my tongue. Oh yes, Baby! That’s it! Feed me.
“God! I’m gonna come!” I’m not stopping you.
I feel her muscles quiver around my tongue and her hips are suspended in the air as she screams out her second orgasm. I lap up her nectar as it drips from her center. I’m still not satisfied. The beast must be fed. She made me come so hard so many times that I must give her just one more—three orgasms for the three that she suppressed. I know she’s tender, so I gently run my tongue around her folds while she shivers out her aftershocks.
“Christian, please…!” she begs as she tries to catch her breath, pushing her hair from her sweat-drenched face. One more, Beautiful Girl, just one more. I gently blow on her pulsating bud and she shivers in response.
“Please…” she whimpers. I don’t touch her there because I know it’ll be more pain than pleasure right now. Instead, I taste the skin on her thighs, her pelvis, her naval…
“Christian…” She’s still begging for reprieve. Don’t worry, baby. I know your body. I know what you need. I won’t hurt you.
I kiss up her beautiful, trembling body to her plump, full breasts. She whimpers as I hover over her and take one in my mouth. Her hands are in my hair again and I fucking love that shit!
“Oh, baby,” she whines as she pushes her breast into my mouth. That’s it, sweet Butterfly. Give your body to me, darling. I switch to her other breast and she gasps like the sensation is unexpected.
“Oh, God, Christian. What are you doing to me?”
Getting your body ready so you can come again. I leave her breasts and kiss up her chest to her neck where I plant open-mouthed kisses there and on her ears until I get to her lips.
“Open your mouth,” I command. Realization dawns and she opens her mouth, allowing my tongue inside to do that sensual dance we invented when I couldn’t kiss her bruised, swollen lips. Oh, she tastes divine and I allow my tongue to explore every part of her lips and mouth while we stare into each other’s eyes. Unable to take the passion anymore, she whimpers loudly before taking my face in her hands and devouring my lips and tongue in a deep, searing kiss.
Oh, my God, Anastasia.
I snatch her off the bed into my arms and kiss her until we’re breathless. We were being serenaded by a beautiful woman’s voice singing, coincidentally, about kissing.
“You are so beautiful,” I say, brushing my lips against hers when I lay her down again. “I can’t get enough of you.”.
“Oh, Christian,” she breathes as she pushes her hips against mine. That’s my cue. I start kissing my way back down her body again. She immediately starts to shiver the closer I get to her sex. When I’ve finally reached my goal and gently lick her folds from top to bottom, she trembles violently.
“Gently… please,” she beseeches.
“Yes, baby,” I promise. I softly lick her warm core and she moans her appreciation. My tongue travels the same courses it did during the French Kiss, only not so slowly and with a little more pressure.
“My God, Christian,” she moans, still gently thrusting her hips forward. I think you’re ready for just a little more, Butterfly. I wet my middle finger and gently slide it into her anus while I am still tasting her.
“Oh, yes! Yes, baby… that’s good,” she breathes as she pumps down onto my hand and into my mouth. Oh, Butterfly, you are going to come hard. Reading her signals, I stick my thumb into her scorching core and she literally lifts off of the bed.
“Jesus Christ!” she yells as her body thrusts wildly against me. Damn, baby! I wish Greystone wasn’t out of commission for this! But I’ll take it as I can get it. I’m mercilessly jamming my finger into her ass while my thumb massages the inside of that hot pussy and my tongue licks that delicious clit, my free hand pressing down right at her pelvis.
“Oh, fuck, Christian!” she screams before she damn near sits up on the bed. She has one hand tangled in my hair, the other propping herself up in the bed. She’s grinding into my mouth and riding my hand with intensity and precision, using the hand in my hair to steady herself, pulling mercilessly at my locks. If I weren’t already so sexually sated, I’d be coming right now from this shit, it’s so hot! I can tell by her stroke and the pulsing of her clit that she’s close… very close.
Come on, Love. I need dessert.
A few more intense whimpers and hard strokes and she’s growling out her orgasm, her head thrown back and she’s coming all over my hand. Yes, baby! That’s it! She’s bucking on my face like a rodeo princess and
I’m sure to let her ride out her release before I remove my fingers and lap up her delicious juices. Oh, yes, she’s done.
She’s wheezing as her hands knot in my hair once more while I’m kissing up her body again, this time bypassing her sensitive breasts and going straight for her pouty lips. She pulls me to her and matches my passion, causing me to moan deeply in her mouth. I don’t know why we hold our breath when we kiss, but we do… we both do. It’s like we have to concentrate on what we’re doing and breathing gets in the way.
When we gasp for air, I immediately bury my face into her neck. I still need to taste her. I can’t stop myself from devouring her skin. She wraps her legs around me and exposes her neck to me fully and I’m insatiable, gnawing at the tender skin of her neck, shoulders, and breasts.
“Do you know how much I love you?” I say between bites.
“Yes,” she breathes, still knotting her hands in my hair. Thank God for that. I don’t think I have the words right now.
“Ana… baby… I need to stop…” I’m going to mark her if I don’t.
“No… don’t…” she whines seductively, pressing my head into her skin. I groan loudly and continue to nip and suck at her skin. “Oh, Christian,” she moans as if I was making love to her, and I feed on her flavor as if she were making love to me.
“Mine!” I growl as I bite into her skin once more.
“Ah!” she cries out at the bite. “Yes, Baby. Yours… only yours…”
A while later, Nora Jones is wafting through the air as we lay tangled in each other’s arms and legs fondling each other, very content and completely sated.
“That was insane,” I say, softly.
“But magnificent!” she adds.
“You’re going to have hickeys,” I warn.
“I know,” she laughs. “They already think we’re two horny teenagers. Now we just proved it.” I look at her bemused.
“‘They’ who? What are you talking about?” I ask.
“That night? The make-out session by the pool?” She reminds me.
“Oh, my God, who saw us?”
“Everybody in the house saw us, Christian. We were too absorbed in each other to care.” I let out a hearty laugh that matches hers.
“I don’t even know what to say about that,” I snicker.
“There’s really not anything that you can say, is there? Especially since I’ll be walking around for the next couple of days looking like I was attacked by a vampire,” she laughs. I gently stroke her cheek.
“You know I wasn’t trying to mark you, right? I just got caught in the moment.”
“Of course, I know,” she says softly. “So did I. It felt as good to me as it did to you, if not more. We got carried away and it’s something that we shouldn’t do all the time but… I liked it,” she admits, and I smile.
“You did?” I ask, almost shyly.
“Oh, very much, Mr. Grey,” she says with a smile. I stroke her hair out of her face.
“You do things to me that no one else has ever done,” I say looking into her eyes. “You make me feel things that I have never felt… ever. Sometimes it scares me.” She rolls over and props herself up on her elbow.
“Why are you afraid?” she asks, and I sigh.
“For a lot of reasons. I’m afraid that I might hurt you or chase you away. I’m afraid that I might get carried away with what I feel and our relationship becomes destructive. I’m afraid that you might wake up one day, see how fucked up I really am, and decide that you can’t deal with it. The list is endless.” She quietly stares at me for a moment, then she climbs on top of me, straddling me.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” she asks, her voice soft. I nod silently. “I don’t think you do,” she corrects me. “You’re beyond everything to me. You’re where I begin and where I end. If you’re fucked up, then what does that make me? All of my issues and problems…” She sighs heavily. “Christian, I don’t know how to function without you anymore. I don’t care if it’s crazy or obsessed or whatever it is, but I can’t remember the time before Christian. I can’t remember the feeling of you not being present. You were always there, we were just waiting to find each other.” She takes my hand and presses it against her chest. I feel her heartbeat.
“Do you feel that?” she asks, and I nod. “That’s you,” she says, and a lone tear falls down her cheek. She opens my hand and places a kiss in my palm before placing it on her cheek. I cradle her face in my hand and she leans into it with her eyes closed. “If your heart stops, mine would too, because it doesn’t know how to be without you anymore. Don’t you see? I could never, ever hurt you… because I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear the pain of causing you pain and I couldn’t take the chance of ever being without you. I’m in love with you, Christian. I’m madly, deeply, hopelessly, and frighteningly in love with you.” Her tears are flowing freely now.
She’s in love with me. This beautiful, remarkable girl is in love with me. I feel a clenching in my chest, almost to the point of pain and I know it’s that string that’s attached to hers, edging me closer to her—even closer than we are now, both naked with her lying on top of me. I sit up with her in my arms, my hand still cradling her face. She gasps without opening her eyes. I kiss her lips gently, repeatedly. I remember a saying… The person that makes you the weakest is the same person that can make you the happiest. I never understood that until this moment, holding this little woman and knowing that she can cause me not to eat for five days or cause me to take on a whole city of villains to defend her.
“My Ana,” I whisper. “I can’t breathe without you. I can’t be without you. What am I going to do?” I meant to say that last part to myself. I feel lost and afraid and I’m not used to this.
“Let me love you… please… just let me love you,” she breathes, her eyes closed and her fingers tangled in my hair. “Feel what I feel… love me…”
“Oh God, Butterfly, I do,” I say pressing her possessively against me, my hands spread across her back. Her warmth is comforting to me. Her tears are still falling on my shoulders.
“Please don’t cry. You are my soul… my everything. Please don’t cry.”
She clings to me like a drowning woman, her weeping is silent. I rub her back and find my solace in her skin. Before I know it, we are making out again… but it’s different this time. There’s no hunger or lust in our movements. There’s reverence and love, an attempt to get closer, to meld into one another. Her skin is my skin, her lips my lips, and we connect on a molecular level. I entwine my fingers in hers as we kiss and I feel connected with that small gesture, like no one could come between us.
“You belong to me,” she whispers between kisses. “You are mine. Say it.”
“I belong to you,” I repeat, “only you.”
“I’ll never let you go. I’ll never leave you…” she breathes. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” I whisper honestly, overwhelmed by what she’s making me feel.
“Then say it!” she commands, her voice still a whisper.
“You’ll never let me go… you’ll never leave me…” My eyes are closed and I feel like I’m floating.
“You… only you… my heart belongs to you, and yours belongs to me,” she whispers, her mouth right at my ear. She’s holding my face now and my hands are resting on her hips. I don’t open my eyes. I am almost afraid of what I will see. There’s something inside of me… something dark and lonely and confused. I haven’t felt it in a long time, but here it is again… and I’m afraid. If she lets me go—if she moves away from me even an inch—it’s going to take over and I’m going to be lost in the darkness.
“Ana…” I don’t recognize my own voice. I don’t know how to verbalize this feeling… this darkness… this fear.
“I love you, Christian. You are beautiful and wonderful and magnificent… and I love you,” she whispers, brushing her lips against mine. Oh, God, I’m so afraid. I’ve never felt this vulnerable before, not as an adult anyway. My heart is in her hands… I can’t stop it… oh God, I’m so afraid…
My fingers are locked. I can’t feel anything. I’m frozen… I can’t move. I’m so afraid. I don’t want to feel this… cold and alone and helpless and vulnerable… I can’t breathe.
“Hear me…” she says softly, pushing me so that I’m lying down again. “Hear me, Christian Trevelyan Grey.” She kisses the corners of my mouth and my hands are still gripping her hips. She takes my hands and lays them on either side of my head. She gently caresses my palms as she brushes her lips against mine. “I love you… I need you… my soul needs you… hear me…”
I can’t speak. I can’t answer her. I’m having flashbacks of hiding in the closet… the fear… the loneliness… the utter despair. Why is this coming to me now? Why now…?
“Hear me, baby…” Her voice is fading in and out as I see pictures… flashing pictures of the view from the cracked closet door and the light shining in. I feel the loneliness of the little copper-haired boy hiding… wanting to be loved… afraid of being hurt again. I feel my heart now. I never knew it was there, but I feel it now… beating strong and craving… hungry and hurting for that little copper-haired boy… the one who waited for the shadows to come and the light to disappear, so he closed his eyes…
I closed my eyes…
…and now I can’t open them, because this might be a dream. I might still be in that closet.
…but I feel it. Soft lips kissing my chest where I expect to feel brutal burns; gentle hands caressing me when I expect to feel violent blows; words of love wafting through the air where I expect to hear cursing and degradation. Which one is the dream? Which one?
I don’t move. I don’t breath. If I am dreaming this tenderness, I don’t want to wake.
“You are my life… my love… my hope… and I am yours…”
Her words reach into me and touch something strange but familiar. I feel an intense, deep need—pulling and heavy. Oh God, I’m so afraid.
I hear my voice choking out of my throat, but I don’t open my eyes. Her voice goes silent. Oh no… maybe it was all a dream… now I’ll awake in that closet, with that sliver of light shining through the door… waiting for the darkness.
Instead, I feel warmth… starting at my center and spreading through my body. I don’t know what it is. All is quiet and I can hear breathing… her breathing. Yes, breathing is good. Let’s try that. I breathe deeply and hold it… and the warmth intensifies and continues to ripple through me.
“Oh.” I moan, surprised by the feeling, but still afraid to open my eyes. I start to shiver. The monsters keep coming and they won’t leave me alone. The warmth is fighting them, but they keep coming back.
“Again, baby,” her voice floats back to me. “Breathe.” Her gentle hands are touching my arms tenderly and I follow her instructions. I take another deep breath and the results are the same. The warmth increases and the monsters are fading away. Thank God. Why did they show up now? Why are they haunting me at this moment?
“Open your eyes, baby.” Her voice is full of longing… aching and deliberate… just above a whisper. I feel her moving against me… and it’s good… so good…
I open my eyes, my hands are still on the bed next to my head. She’s slightly propped up and I can see her hips moving… only her hips… it feels so good… so soft…
“There he is,” her voice caresses my ears. What am I feeling?
“Yes,” I respond. I know that I’m a man, but the voice I hear in my head is that of the little copper-haired boy hiding in the closet.
“Don’t be afraid,” she coaxes, her voice like sweet, sweet honey and, oh… this feeling…
“Okay,” the small voice replies, sinking into this warmth and beginning to feel the safety.
“I’m going to take care of you… of your heart. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You belong to me now… and I love you. I love you so much.” I belong to her now. I belong to her. My vision clears and she’s loving me, moving slowly… so slowly, sweetly, and softly up and down my sex. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
“I know,” she whispers, grabbing my hands that we’re grasping at air moments earlier. “I know, baby. You’re afraid.” She kisses my eyelids. “But you never have to fear again. I will love you forever. When my body is gone, my soul will continue to love you until time is no more.” She closes her eyes and loves me—softly and very, very slowly.
“Oh,” I moan, my breath more rhythmic now. “Oh,” is all I can say.
“Yes, baby,” she croons, something hiding in her voice… a tortured sound. She pushes herself to sit up and she stills. She looks glorious… beautiful and pure, like an angel. She looks down at me and I remember. I’m coming out of my trance now, and this is my beautiful, beautiful Ana… my broken Butterfly… broken—like me—but blooming again to show her magnificent wings. I can see them—vibrant, full of color and life—waiting to heal me and my broken soul. I have to let her… I have to let her heal me or I’ll be lost forever.
She starts to move again, her beautiful body… loving me… sating my manhood that had already come five times, but still would not be denied—even with no coaxing from me. Every part of me is drawn to her, needs her, wants her, and yearns for her… even when I’m not paying attention.
“I know what you feel,” she says as she slowly slides up and down my erection. “I know what it is… that need to feel… to be connected… I understand…”
She places her hands flat on my chest and keeps a slow and gentle tempo. I feel her love wrap around me. This is different… so different. This is not that feral desire or that push to satisfaction. This is something so different… something I’ve never felt before and can’t explain.
“My love… my heart… I’ll take care of you… all of you…” she promises, and something inside me breaks. The frightened little boy peeks his head out from his hiding place and he stands in full view. He’s afraid, and lonely, and hungry… but he stands there, waiting to be loved. I feel a flood of emotion as she slowly and gently loves me. I can feel the tears fall from my eyes and down my temples.
“Ah,” I weep as my feelings grip inside of me, confused with nowhere to go. I swear I’m seeing star bursts—in black and white at first, then in brilliant colors! Each breath intensifies these emotions and I can’t move again. The little copper-haired boy looks on curiously, but comes forward into the star burst which now turns to gold and explodes, filling the room with amber light. I take in a deep breath and…
I didn’t feel an orgasm in my groin. I felt an electrifying, numbing, brain-shattering warmth exploding through my body on a cellular level. It was an out-of-body experience and I have no idea how to cope with it. I’m stiffening all over and wheezing for a moment and when I finally come back to myself, I’m weeping. Tears are flowing into my ears; my chest and shoulders are shaking and I’m weeping.
Oh. my angel… my love… my Butterfly… I am yours… completely yours… take care of me, please…
Behind my closed eyelids, the little copper-haired boy is cradled in warmth, finally at peace and sleeping in the arms of an angel with the beautiful wings of a butterfly.
His body is shuddering, and I hold him as close to me as I can. I can’t say how I knew, but his fear and anguish were radiating from every pore. First, his eyes were screwed together so tightly that I was afraid they might sink back into his head and the next thing I know he’s staring at me like he didn’t know me. His pupils had constricted almost to pinpoints and were it not for the rings on the outside of his beautiful gray irises, they would have disappeared into the white completely. My words weren’t reaching him… my love wasn’t reaching him… and when I felt his nature rising again, I thought I was hallucinating.
He begged me to stop about an hour ago… he can’t be rising again!
Lo and behold, there it is, standing at attention while he seems to be having some kind of subconscious panic attack. They never covered this in my psychology textbooks! I do the only thing I know to do. I connect with him the way that I know how… here goes…
I rise and lower myself onto his erection and gasp from the immediate fullness. I’m a little tender from my last orgasms and even though he has stiffened again, I know that he’s tender, too. I slowly and gently move my hips, talking to him the entire time, trying to reach him in whatever hell he has inadvertently retreated into. Why this happened at this moment, I have no clue, but I have to bring him back. I love him too much to let him suffer.
“Come on, baby. Please… come back to me…” I say more to myself than to him, trying to ignore the fullness and pleasure that riding him is bringing me right now since this is not supposed to be for me. I’m so afraid that this might not be the right thing to do at this moment, but when all else fails we have always connected through our lovemaking.
“Please, baby… please, come back to me… please.” I beg, still gently loving him. I keep moving, quietly, trying not to cry. This is scary and now I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’m losing him. I close my eyes and listen while Kate Havnevik sings about nothing coming easily.
“Please… please, Christian…” I don’t know what to do but love him. I feel him take a deep breath and his whole body relaxes a bit. I feel a little hope.
“Again, baby. Breathe,” I say. Come back to me, Christian. He takes a second breath and I know that he’s returning from this subconscious state. I don’t stop moving over him. I need him to feel me.
“Open your eyes, baby,” I plead. It’s time to join me here in the present, in our world, in our little love nest.
“There he is,” I sigh when he opens his eyes, but my relief is short-lived. He still looks frightened and displaced.
“Don’t be afraid,” I tell him when he answers me in a small voice. I keep my strokes soft and slow, hoping to transmit everything that I feel for him through my body, and it must have worked because his pupils dilate to almost black in a nanosecond and he gasps, grasping for where my hands used to be. I clutch his hands and keep talking to him as I love him slowly, and now my body is building, and I can’t stop it.
I don’t want to lose my rhythm as I hear Christian moaning softly as he gives himself to me, completely allowing me to have my way.
Stay slow, Steele. I know it’s an exquisite feeling, but stay slow.
I keep talking to him, transferring my love to him through my words, my touch, my sex. God, he feels so fabulous and this connection that I feel to him is insane. I feel it everywhere. I steady myself on his chest and I know he’s feeling something cosmic. I’m trying so hard to hold out, but my body yearns for him so much that I can’t stand it anymore. Oh, please, no… not before him… please, not yet.
“My love… my heart… I’ll take care of you… all of you…” The words stumble out as I’m trying to hold back my orgasm, but it’s no use. I hear his large gasp and quickly expelled breath with a tortured “Hah!” It was like two large hands reached into my hips and stretched over my entire body up to my shoulders, holding me in place while this celestial orgasm ripped through me. My head is back, my mouth is open, and no sound comes out—not even air. I don’t know how long the orgasmic hands hold me there, but when they release me, Christian is crying.
“Christian! Baby!” I gasp and I can feel my heart breaking in two. What’s wrong with my baby? I bring my chest to his and push the hair out of his face.
“Sssshhh,” I soothe, gently wiping his temples and kissing his eyelids. “Don’t cry. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
“An… Ana…” he chokes through his tears.
“Sssshhhh, it’s okay,” I say softly, stroking his hair and kissing his face. “My Christian… my baby,” I say between kisses.
I comfort him for several minutes before his crying finally subsides. What I do know from my textbooks is that he just had some huge emotional breakthrough, but I have no idea what it was. I only hope that it wasn’t bad, but for the most part, the only coherent words he has been able to say for the last hour or so besides “yes” and “okay” is my name, so that’s something.
Somewhere in the next several minutes, I end up laying on my back with his head on my chest and my legs wrapped around him caressing his hair. He’s asleep and I’m staring out the window at the moon, softly singing the words of the song now playing on the sound system:
The pain in my heart met the love in your eyes and it went away.
When you told me it was true what you went through, I tried to thank you
It was something no words could do
I owe love, all my love
I owe everything to you
All of my life, you’ve given love to me
I owe love, all my heart belongs to only you
The rest of my life, I know, I.O.U. me
I’m an old soul, I know it. Most of the songs that I really like were made when I was a baby, some even before I was born. I like all kinds of music, but the new stuff just doesn’t do much for me… and R&B does the best love songs.
I know I should be trying to get some sleep, but I can only think about tonight… and this morning… and everything that has happened. I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed myself bringing Christian to all those orgasms. He’s so sexy and beautiful and watching him in the throes of passion—when I can concentrate and I’m not in my own throes—is insanely delectable. His abs roll and his thighs stiffen, and his face… oh my God. I get a little twinge just thinking about it. My boyfriend is hot and gorgeous… and I have no plans on going anywhere… ever!
I open my eyes and the sun is shining through the bedroom window. I could swear I was just watching the moon and singing a song, caressing my hot boyfriend’s hair. Speaking of which, my fingers are tangled in my hot boyfriend’s hair, my legs are still wrapped around him, and he’s still lying on my chest, only now his beautiful gray eyes are looking up at me.
“Hi,” I say, trying to wake up.
“Hi,” he responds, not moving a muscle and still looking at me.
“Are you okay?” I ask cautiously. He actually cried himself to sleep last night. He nods at me.
“I love you,” he says softly, a little unsure.
“I love you more,” I respond, trying to read his eyes.
“I doubt that. I don’t think there is a person alive in this whole world that loves anybody as much as I love you,” he retorts. Be still, my exploding heart.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of my life showing you that I do,” I say, just above a whisper, running my fingers through his hair again. He slides up the bed until we are face to face.
“Please don’t ever leave me,” he beseeches looking into my eyes.
“Never,” I say without missing a beat. I put my hand on his cheek and gaze deeply into his eyes. “Oh, God, never,” I breathe. Almost instantly, his lips are on mine.
After lying with Christian a little while longer this morning, I’ve come to the en suite to take a shower. All of yesterday’s exertions have me a bit drained today, but I’d like to take a short look around the island before lunch and returning to Anguilla. I scrub myself thoroughly since I know that all of mine and Christian’s sweat and sex juices are still in my skin and I hear the shower door open as I’m rinsing my hair. He stands there looking a little lost for a moment, but I simply switch places with him and lather up his chest and legs as he has marinated in bodily fluids for the last several hours as well. I get him mostly washed and rinsed and he snatches me into his arms, just holding me there.
“Baby, I can’t finish if you don’t let me go,” I say after several moments.
“I can’t. I need to hold you. Please, just let me hold you,” he says into my shoulder. I hold him there for a little while longer, but I’m a little worried. He seems like he has lost a part of himself with this breakthrough… or maybe it was a breakdown. I can reach the shampoo from where we are standing so I lather up his hair and let him hold me while I wash, rinse, and repeat.
“I’m okay, Butterfly,” he says as I am rinsing his hair the second time. “I’ll talk to you about what happened, just not now, but I’m okay.”
“Okay, baby,” I say smiling at him, “whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here for you,” I say touching his face. He nods and turns off the shower. He gets out first, then takes my hand and helps me out of the shower, grabbing a bath blanket and wrapping it around me.
“Oh, these are heavenly!” I say, snuggling into the oversized towel.
“You like those?” he asks and I nod, luxuriating in the fluffy linen. “I’ll get some for Escala then,” he says with a smile.
“I better be careful what I say I like around you or I’ll end up with the Taj Mahal in our living room,” I jest. He smiles a knowing smile at me and walks out of the en suite with his own bath blanket. Now, what does he have up his sleeve?
Christian and I get dressed for the day and discover that we’re way too wiped out to do what we had planned. We were originally going to hike up Mt. Scenery—90 minutes each way—until we discover that it was a trail that incorporated stairs… over 1000 stairs! Yeah, hiking through the brush to get to and from Anguillita lookout, then 10 orgasms and an emotional breakdown all in 24 hours, hmm… no hiking for me, thanks!
We do manage to walk around the island and see some of the beautiful gardens and trails that they call “roads.” The cottages are beautiful, and all the property is immaculately maintained. There’s an ordinance in Saba that all the roofs of the cottages have to be red!
We still want to do some shopping and there’s not much to buy on Saba except for Saba lace, glass art, and souvenirs so we’ll save our shopping for St. Maarten and Anguilla with hopes that we’ll have better luck there. After a lazy lunch, we pack our little bags at the cottage and go back to that little side street that they call an airport. I close my eyes and pray to God that the toy plane wouldn’t fall off of the edge of the damn cliff and just get us back to St. Maarten in one piece. I have to admit that it was wonderful having some time alone, just Christian and me, though I had no idea it would end up being so emotional. I still worry about him and how this experience has affected him, but with the exception of the miniature airport runway, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Chuck is there waiting for us when we finally made it back to Anguilla at about 1pm. “Sir, Ana, how was your—” He freezes reaching for my bag and I know exactly what he’s staring at.
“Shut up!” I shoot, snapping him out of his trance before he has a chance to react.
“Not a word,” he says without pausing, taking my dress bag and overnight case to the car. “Shopping or back to the villa?” he asks. I look at Christian.
“Christian, I’m exhausted and I need a nap,” I say.
“Okay, baby. How about we do this,” he begins as we walk to the car and Chuck puts our bags in the trunk. “We’ll go back to the villa and rest, then we can pack. Afterwards, we can get a room and spend the night on St. Maarten or the plane will be here first thing in the morning and we can go then and put our bags on the plane. Either way, we can do some shopping in St. Maarten before we go home and we don’t have to declare anything since it’s duty-free.”
“Either one of those sound great to me, as long as I get to take a nap and I’ll tell you how I feel when I wake.” Christian tucks me under his arm and we get in the car. I’m asleep before we get back to the villa.
I awake in the bed of the master suite. Christian is again, gazing lovingly into my eyes.
“You need to wake up, Butterfly. You need to eat,” he says softly, while stroking my hair.
“What time is it?” I ask sleepily, stretching deliciously.
“About five,” he replies. Five o’clock? That wasn’t a nap, that was half a night’s sleep!
“Oooh my gosh… I had no idea I was so tired,” I respond still trying to wake up.
“You had a busy night,” he says, taking my hand in his and entwining our fingers.
“So did you,” I say, “and you’re not sleepy.”
“Oh, I napped, too,” he responds. “Crying like a baby takes a lot out of you.” I look up at him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask cautiously. He looks down at me.
“Can we?” he asks. Can we? And how! I sit up and lean against the pillows and the headboard.
“Yes, please,” I reply, encouraging him. He movesnext to me, never letting go of my hand.
“I… kept having flashbacks of my childhood,” he begins, “while we were talking last night.” Oh, good God, this is worse than I thought. As much as I hate to cross the line of girlfriend versus psychologist, I may need my education and experience to help me through this. We made love last night while he was thinking about his awful childhood. I’m a little scarred by that thought.
“Why do you think that happened? What could have possibly brought that on?” I ask. He tilts his head at me.
“Are you shrinking me, Dr. Steele?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’m not trying to shrink you. It’s a valid question and I really would like to know what could have possibly brought that on, but I am a shrink, and that question could have just been a knee-jerk reaction. However, your girlfriend is really desperate to know what brought that on,” I press, my eyes wide. He examines my expression and continues.
“I’m sure that you could tell by my reaction and I could tell by your preamble that I’m not a fan of vibrators or sexual toys of that nature being used on me.” I nod at his statement. He sighs heavily before continuing. “There’s a very specific reason for that. The Pedophile used to fuck me with a strap-on. I didn’t like it. In fact, I hated it—and she knew I hated it.” My hand flies up to my mouth.
“I knew it was something like that,” I say just above a whisper. He nods and continues.
“At first, I think she just wanted to see how I would respond to it. I was still a kid. Then it became more and more frequent the closer I got to 18. She wanted to make sure that I knew that she was still in charge. All of the shit that she had already done to me wasn’t enough. She had to strip me of my manhood, too.” He holds his head down and I know this is difficult for him to talk about. I gently touch his face and put my hand under his chin to raise his head. When he looks at me, I smiled a bit encouraging him to continue.
“That’s one of the reasons that I became a Dom, so that I would never be subjected to that shit again!” he spit. I was afraid of where this was going. “The bad things that happen to me in my life, I often forget about them. I push them so far back into my memory that they don’t occupy enough mind space to be prevalent, so I forget details.” Well, that’s not good. That’s just a suppressed memory. Those always come back to haunt you.
“That’s why you had nightmares,” I say looking down, not knowing that I said it aloud.
“Huh?” He said. I don’t want to repeat it, but it’s out now.
“That’s why you… had nightmares,” I say again, swallowing hard, “because… you never dealt with those things. You just… hid from them.” Oh, please don’t be mad at me.
“You’re probably right,” he says. Oh, thank God. “I don’t know, I may have to talk to John about it some more.”
Does that mean he doesn’t want to talk to me about it anymore? I soon got my answer.
“I will admit that being tied down and seeing you with that wand in your hand made me think about her and what she did to me… at first.”
Oh, God. I shouldn’t have done it, I think shaking my head. Reading my responses, Christian now lifts my head the same way I lifted his.
“Ana, what you did to me last night was one of the most sexually intense moments of my entire life. It was phenomenal. I could live to be a hundred years old and never forget that. God, it’s exciting me even now,” he says with a shiver, and the horny little devil inside of me is doing back flips.
“Really?” I ask, a bit shocked.
“Oh, God, yes!” he says closing his eyes. “We must do that again, but I need to be warned because you emptied my balls out!” he laughs. “And yes, my dick is very tender right now.” I giggle a little at this comment.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Grey,” I say, shyly.
“Hell, I’m not… but we’re getting off topic,” he says with a sad smile. I nod and let him continue. “I’m not accustomed to being vulnerable in any way. I hide all of my weaknesses. I never let my opponents know what I’m thinking. You never know that I’m going to strike or where I’m going to strike until it’s too late. The people who I trust completely, I can count on one hand. I broke three cardinal rules with you last night. Never expose your vulnerabilities; trust no one; and never let ’em see you sweat.”
Good Lord. Do his cardinal rules apply to me, too?
“No woman has ever done what you’ve done to me, Anastasia… no woman, anywhere, ever! I have never loved another woman like you, no woman has ever made me feel like you do, and no woman has ever taken all of my needs… all of my needs… and fulfilled them like you did last night. I was already past the point of no return well before now, but last night etched it in stone. I can’t be with another woman… there is only you. Only ever you.”
Oh… my… God. My heart just climbed up through my throat, jumped out of my mouth, bounced around on the bed a couple of times, and jumped back down into my chest.
“After you allowed me to worship your body, and we were talking, it just… jumped in front of my face that… you could possibly leave me. I instantly began to panic. It was an immediate downhill spiral and I couldn’t stop it. That’s the problem with opening the door to your vulnerabilities. You leave them all exposed, and all of my fears wrapped up together are no match for the fear of losing you. I went all the way back to those memories of being a lonely little boy hiding in the closet waiting for him to show up and torture me again… the fear, the anguish, the pain, the loneliness… I couldn’t shake it.” He shakes his head as if trying to shake the memory now.
“Oh, Christian,” I say, softly, mournfully. I feel the tears in my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. This is not about me… this is about him.
“I kept hearing your voice. You were talking to me… saying such sweet things. I was afraid… I was so… so… afraid… and I was lost. You kept talking to me… so sweet… so, so sweet…” He strokes my face. “When I was able to separate myself from that little lost boy, you were on top of me and you were stroking me… and Ana, it felt warm and wonderful… but it wasn’t sex. I know I sound crazy, and I’ll try to explain this to you, but I’m not sure that I can…”
Try, please try.
“Every part of me needed every part of you, and you gave it to me… the only way that you knew, and I felt it. Baby, I felt it. I felt all of you inside all of me. It was so overwhelming… I didn’t know how to handle it. My fears kept fighting… they didn’t want to go down. The monsters were battling for supremacy… and I don’t know what happened. There was a cosmic bang when they lost, like the beginning of life… the beginning of my life. I knew something had changed. I knew it. I don’t even know if I came, Ana…”
Honestly, I don’t either. I was too busy with the giant hands holding me in the realm of pleasure while snatching the voice out of my throat!
“… But whatever it was, I know that I felt it in every bone in my body. It was so frightening and so fantastic and so wonderful and so terrifying…”
I don’t think he knows what he’s saying.
“I couldn’t handle it, Ana,” he finally admits. “I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t process it. I didn’t know what to do with it. I spent most of my life in hiding… hiding from him, or hiding from being found, hiding from my lifestyle being discovered, hiding my feelings, hiding my vulnerabilities—when it all came rushing at me, I didn’t know what to do. Ana, it was like planets colliding. I was rocked down to my very core. Intense orgasms, I can handle those. Intense sex, bring it on. Intense emotion, I’m way out of my league. Remember when I told you that talking about you and my baby dying was a hard limit?”
I nod. I remember that comment well.
“Ana, it is a hard limit. I didn’t know it at the time and I was using it as a reason to avoid the conversation. If we’re going to be together forever, I know we’ll have to talk about it sooner or later, but Ana I have to be honest. It is a hard limit for me. It really is.”
I believe him. I believe that’s going to be one of the hardest conversations that we ever have to have when that time is upon us. I squeeze his hand.
“That’s the short version.” That’s the short version? Good God, what’s the long version!? “I can’t be without you, Ana. I just can’t. The thought of being without you scares me to death. I would never hurt you or abduct you or try to make you do anything that you didn’t want to do, but you are a remarkable woman, Anastasia Rose Steele, and I understand why David went batshit crazy.” Oh fuck, that’s some scary shit—and highly romantic at the same time. “So when you say that you love me more than I love you, I just don’t know how that’s possible.”
I’m completely speechless. I stayed quiet so that he could get his words out… finish his thoughts… and now, my words are stuck in my throat… in my heart…
“Ana, please say something,” he begs. I open my mouth, and nothing comes out. I cough and try again.
“I… I don’t care who loves who more,” I choke, my voice small and pained. “All I know is that I love you so much that I can’t… breathe…” The breath is coming hard even as I try to say the word. My chest hurts with all the love that I feel for him, and I understand what he means by the overwhelming emotion. “Christian… I can’t… Chri…”
He snatches me off the bed and slams his lips into mine. He’s holding me so tight, I can’t get any air in. We’re both on our knees and I violently grab a handful of his hair as I moan into his mouth, hungrily devouring his kisses. When he finally allows me to breathe, I gasp for air as he kisses my cheek, my neck…
“Please believe me… please…” My fingers are still tangled in his hair and he’s holding my head, kissing my chest, my shoulder…
“I do, Ana, baby, I do!” My ears, my temples, my face…
“You’re my life, Christian. You’re my life,” I choke out between breaths. “Don’t you know? Please tell me that you know…”
“Oh, God, yes, Butterfly, I know.” He’s giving me back all of those emotions I gave him last night and this morning. It’s filling me and overwhelming me, but I know how to handle it. I bask in his love, relax in his arms and revel in his kisses. Oh more, please… much, much more…
We have the chef staff prepare dinner for our last night at the Villa. Butterfly opts to stay and just go to St. Maarten in the morning for shopping before the flight leaves tomorrow afternoon. After I got that emotional boulder off my chest, we kissed until our lips were numb and Butterfly asks for a few moments to freshen up before dinner.
Jason informs me that dinner is almost ready and we’re eating outside by the fire pit that we never used. Hell, I didn’t know the place even had a fire pit. Apparently, it’s on the other side of the house that I never visited.
“So, how was Saba, Boss?” Jason asks.
“Very nice,” I reply, and Davenport snickers a bit. I’m sure it doesn’t get past Jason, but he doesn’t let on. “It’s a very beautiful place—small-town feeling. There’s not a lot to do unless you’re willing to hike and snorkel, but mostly hike.”
“Hmm, so not necessarily a place for a long-term extended vacation,” he concludes. I shake my head.
“I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s excellent for a weekend getaway, but long-term, you’d be bored senseless after the third day, if you make it that long.” Gail joins us at that moment.
“Am I late?” she asks.
“No, we’re just waiting for you and Ana,” Jason says as he kisses his wife before she sits. I can’t help but wonder what’s taking so long. My thought is interrupted by Her Highness herself floating in wearing a beautifully flowing black spaghetti-string dress with a white panel at the bottom. The front is a mini that extends into a full-length in the back. She’s also wearing those bare foot sandals from Gail’s wedding on her sexy bare feet. I’ve got to get her some more of those… maybe diamonds…
“I hope I didn’t keep everyone waiting, I’m so sorry,” Butterfly says as she glides over to the seat next to me.
“Don’t give it a second thought,” Gail chimed in. “Dinner hasn’t even be served yet.”
“Mmmm, I guess that means I’m right on time, then…” Butterfly says as she steps over me to take her seat. I inhale deeply to catch her scent as she goes by. She’s magnificent. When she takes her seat, Gail looks at her and narrows her eyes.
“Ana!” Gail begins, her voice full of concern. “Were there mosquitoes on Saba Island?” she asks, examining Butterfly’s neck from a distance. Yeah, big, huge, humongous Christian Grey-sized mosquitoes!
“Um…no,” Butterfly responds, blushing, “no, I wasn’t bitten by mosquitoes,” she answers evasively.
“Well, Honey, you’ve got…” Gail begins to speak and after looking at a blushing, smirking Butterfly, realization dawns on her face and she gasps.
“Oh!” she says with a start. It’s the cutest thing, like a kid accidentally finding Mom’s battery-operated-boyfriend. “Uh… oh… okay,” she says, quickly bowing out of that conversation. Jason laughs and nods at me.
“Very nice, huh, Boss?” he says with a knowing smile. I reach down and lift Butterfly’s legs, putting her calves and feet across my lap.
“Very nice, indeed,” I respond, showing no shame.
“Oh yes, please, embarrass me further. I’m not here,” Butterfly says, waving her hands and holding her head down.
“Embarrassed? Are you kidding me?” Gail says in shock. “You two are all over each other at every opportunity. I don’t know how you have time or energy for anything else!” she announces.
“They’re like rabbits,” Davenport says, mostly under his breath, but loud enough for us to hear. When the other four people turn and glare at him, he hissed. “Ssssss… oh… wow… I didn’t say that out loud, did I?”
“Yes, you did!” Ana scolds.
“Ugh!” Davenport groans almost painfully and puts his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to say that.”
“Oh, lighten up, Chuck, it wasn’t that bad,” Butterfly says. Davenport is still shaking his head.
“Can you all excuse me for a minute?” he says, and without waiting for a response, he’s up and gone back into the villa. Jason and I exchange knowing looks while Gail looks impassive and Butterfly is confused. A few moments pass before she removes her legs from mine and stands.
“I’ll be back. I’m going to go see what his problem is.” Without another word, she’s gone into the villa as well.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Gail asks.
“Most likely,” Jason responds.
“Does someone want to let me in on it?” I ask, now feeling like the odd man out. Gail pushes herself into her husband’s arms and begins to speak.
“Our relationship has… evolved… over the past week. Although I’ve always been comfortable with Ana, we’ve gotten considerably closer as friends during this vacation. In addition, our relationship,” she gestures between Jason and herself, “with you has taken a turn. You’re calling Jason by his first name now, Ana has always called Charles Chuck, and we’ve been doing a lot of social events as a group this week. Charles has even had a lady friend stay over two of the days of the trip. Even with the tension that we had in the first part of the week, this is the most relaxed we’ve ever seen you.” Jason nods at her revelation.
“We’re very happy to be considered your friends, but you are still our employer, and even though our relationship with you has evolved into something more casual, Charles’ relationship with you has not—and he’s aware of that. It’s very easy to fall into a comfort zone in light of the situation, but in the end, you’re still Mr. Grey. We go back to Seattle tomorrow where he will be Davenport and you will be sir, and he just told you that you and your girlfriend screw like rabbits… sir.” She finishes with a shrug.
Ah, now I see. Any other time, someone would probably be losing a job right now and my staff is aware of this. However, this week has made everybody relax, including me. So, Davenport had a slip of the tongue and is now kicking himself for it which, in all honesty, he should be.
“Well, since I’d like to eat dinner soon, I’m going to go and straighten this out,” I say rising from my seat to go in search of Butterfly and Davenport.
Music from the special evening:
Nora Jones—Come Away With Me
I.O.U. Me—BeBe and CeCe Winans
After Tonight—Mariah Carey (not mentioned, but Christian’s fears about Ana while he was lost in the darkness)
So “tomorrow” (next chapter) we start the trek back to Seattle. I know the vacation seemed long and tedious to a lot of people, but hopefully you understand the significance behind each event that occurred on the island. There were no fillers in this sequence. The only thing that could be considered “fillers” would be their activities because you can’t go on vacation and not have some fun. Believe it or not, there are still a couple of significant events that will happen before they land in Seattle. One of them will, of course, involve the conversation with Davenport.
While I have the opportunity, I do like to write A/N’s and connect with my readers, answer questions, thank reviewers, give useless (and useFUL) bits of information, and tell disrespectful folks to go to hell. So, thank you for bearing with me while I’ve done those things. Tell me what you think of Christian’s breakthrough and what this could mean for their relationship.
Don’t forget to check the Pinterest page at http://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/paging-dr-steele-the-trip-to-anquilla/.
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