Becoming Dr. Grey: Chapter 9—Seeing Red

I’m a little confused as to why I had people asking why I would make a Dominant character become Dominant when he was dealing with something. Think about that for a second…

Dominant Christian became Dominant when he was dealing with something… hmmm…

At the end of the last chapter, all he did was prepare her bath. He didn’t even do anything yet! Let him DO something before you start criticizing him and asking “Why is he doing that!” Geez!

Oh, and please recall that at the end of “Fifty Shades Freed” when you read the bonus material–if you read the bonus material–he had a D/s session with Ana when she was pregnant with Phoebe. 

Just… read the chapter…

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.

Chapter 9—Seeing Red

ANASTASIA

I swallow and sit back in the water as he approaches me with a fresh water sponge. Without a word, he washes me from head to toe, and I do mean head to toe… hair to toenails. Every crevice of my body has been cleaned when he’s finished. He holds open one of those divine bath blankets when we’re done and helps me out of the tub. After he dries my body and hair as thoroughly as the towel will allow, he helps me into a beautiful red terry cloth robe that I’ve never seen before, then leads me back into our bedroom.

The lights are low, very low. The music is so subtle that I couldn’t hear it in the bathroom. Horns… Rick Braun, I think. He leads me by the hand to my vanity seat where he painstakingly and gently combs through the tangles in my long hair. He loves my hair this long. I was considering cutting it, but I love it when he plays in it. It takes him several minutes to comb it through and put it in the perfect braid down my back, secured with a ponytail holder. He pushes the robe just over my shoulders so that they are exposed and kisses me gently on the neck. It sends shivers through me.

“I want you to wear something for me,” he says, his breath caressing my skin. I already know what it is by the way he has me exposed. He turns me to face my mirror and from—I don’t know where, he presents a red leather collar lined in fur. It’s beautiful, and comfortable, and when he gently fastens it around my neck, I look hot!

“Okay?” he asks. I nod, unable to break my gaze away from his hungry stare. “Good.”

He takes my hand and leads me to the end of the bed. “Sit.” I sit on the bed and he reveals a tray that has a heaping helping of Gail’s wonderful homemade creamy chicken pot pie. The babies stir at the smell of it, confirming that we are all famished. He smiles as he takes a forkful and brings it to my mouth. I take it gratefully, savoring the flavor of every ingredient… the chicken, the peas, the carrots… it’s delightful. He takes a forkful for himself and shows the same appreciation. He continues to feed us both as smooth jazz plays in the background, the only sound in the room besides our breathing. When we’ve had our fill of chicken pot pie and spritzers made with shaved ice, soda water, and fresh cut strawberries, he takes our dishes to the kitchen, once again instructing me not to move.

While he’s gone, I take the liberty of examining the room. The duvet has been removed from the bed. There’s another tray on his side of the bed, but it’s covered with a red satin scarf or something so that I can’t see what’s on it. There’s a familiar scent in the room—citrusy like my bubble bath, but something else. I don’t have time to figure it out before he comes back into the room with a bowl and spoon. What have we here?

“Open.”

I open my mouth and I am greeted with double fudge chocolate gelato. Oh my God, I’m in heaven! I groan loudly at the flavor and gasp immediately, realizing my malfeasance.

“Sssshhhh,” he gently chides me as he places another delightful spoonful into my mouth. I am succumbing to this slow seduction as he feeds me and himself every spoonful of the delicious dessert. He places the bowl on my vanity and turns his attention back to me. His lips are cold when he closes them over my shoulder, moving down to the exposed part of my breast. I shiver and they brush against my mounds and back to the valley of my chest. I hold my head back and take deep breaths, my skin still hotter than his mouth traveling up to my neck and giving me gentle nips above and below the collar.

Christian…

“Did you speak?” he asks, his voice deep and his mouth right at my ear, biting and sucking the lobe. No, I didn’t speak. I thought it… I felt it… but I definitely didn’t speak.

“No, Sir,” I pant, leaning back on my hands, my head now tipped to give him access to my ear.

“Mmmmm,” he moans while licking the shell of my ear… more shivers. “It must have been your soul talking to me again.” That’s exactly what it was.

“Ye… yes, Sir,” I pant again, so wanton and hot that I can’t think straight. His mouth moves to mine and he kisses me deeply, passionately, finally releasing after gently biting my bottom lip. Good God, I’m so seduced, I can think of nothing else… see nothing else. It’s almost unbearable. He smirks deviously at me.

“Patience, my little vixen,” he chides, “we have all night.” I nod, knowing that this is his show and I can only obey… and enjoy. “Something’s missing,” he says in a sing-songy voice like he’s only just realizing it. He goes to my vanity and gets a bottle of fire-engine red nail polish that I know wasn’t there before. I don’t wear red nail polish—red lipstick, only when I want the vamp look, but not red nail polish.

“Scoot back… to the middle of the bed.” I slide back to the middle of the bed and he sits on the edge. With uncanny precision, he polishes the nails on first my right, then my left hand, gently blowing each finger when he’s finished. It’s a very good job, but red?

Remember, this is his show.

“Bend your leg.” I bend one leg so that my foot is flat on the bed. He polishes each toe and I can see the reflection of his beautiful ass in the mirror on my vanity. I don’t even notice that he’s done with the foot until he speaks and breaks my concentration.

“What has your attention, Mrs. Grey?” he demands softly. I gasp, realizing that he has caught me staring at… something.

“I…” I feel my trepidation and his dominance. It’s consuming. His gray eyes pierce through me awaiting my answer to his question. I part my lips, attempting to breathe again. He’s hot and irresistible, and I can’t lie to him—not that I would dare.

“You, Sir,” I breathe, the wanton nymph settling in again and taking over every cell of my being. If he doesn’t do something to me soon, I’m going to combust. He looks behind him and observes his reflection in my vanity.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he chastises, turning back to me with a knowing smirk. “Naughty girl. I may have to make you pay for taking that little liberty without permission.” I swallow. I have no idea what he has in mind, but right now, he can anything to me that he wants.

“Yes, Sir,” I breathe, my voice never coming higher than a whisper. I can’t even manage it.

“Other foot,” he directs, lingering on the “t” and making me hotter. I slide my foot down slowly and sensually slide my other foot into position. He licks his lips and adjusts his pants.

“I know what you’re doing,” he warns, softly. “You’re going to pay for that, too.” His eyes break from mine and he begins to polish the nails on the other foot. How could something so innocent be so sensual? I want him so bad that I could break character and just jump his bones right now! I hold my head back again, leaning on my hands and trying to clear my head of these wayward thoughts. My Dom has finished and he stands at the end of the bed, examining me.

“One more thing,” he says, turning around to the vanity again. When he sits on the edge of the bed, he produces my vamp lipstick. He opens it slowly and begins to apply it to my lips.

“Yes,” he says as he finishes. “I see wonderful things happening with that gorgeous mouth tonight.” Oh, God, I’m going to explode. He puts the nail polish and lipstick back on the vanity and turns to face me. He’s silent for a moment as a shadow falls over his face and he appears to get taller. I feel vulnerable… exposed… but I don’t move.

“If you only knew,” he nearly growls. “You’re stunning… you look like a beautiful, hungry little sex kitten.” He pulls a digital camera out of his pocket. “For my eyes only, Mrs. Grey,” he says. “Don’t move.”

With the first flash, every bit of trepidation leaves my body and I am now the sole subject of a sexy photo shoot. A warmth passes through me immediately and removes all hesitation.

“Mrs. Grey… you’re flushed,” he says knowingly and takes another picture. He moves over to me and gently strokes the inside of my thigh. I lick my top lip and try not to move. He undoes the belt on the robe and fully exposes my baby bump, the camera flashing the entire time.

“Sit up… just a little. Careful of your nails.”

I sit up straighter, still leaning on my hand. He opens my robe at my breasts, caressing each one as he only exposes the inner mounds and not the nipples. I almost can’t control the flame growing in me any further.

“Put that hand on our babies,” he instructs and I move the hand that’s not supporting my weight over my baby bump.

“Now, look up at me.” I turn my head to where I can see his shoes, the slowly raise my gaze to his, glaring at him through my eyelashes and subtly throwing my shoulder forward to meet my chin.

“Oh my God,” he moans as the camera flashes several times. “You are so hot.” He has to take a few deep breaths once he’s finished with those pictures, then issues another command.

“Lie down flat, hands above your head.” I obey and the camera flashes wildly again. “Pull the robe open, just one breast… this side. Careful…” I know, watch the nails. I obey and he stops me before I let go of the robe.

“Hold it! Right there, baby,” he says as he snaps more pictures of me. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since our trip to wine country,” he says, still snapping pictures as he walks around the bed. “You were like a work of art. I couldn’t believe you belonged to me.” He’s on the other side of the bed and my head is turned away from him now. “You were so beautiful, so sexy and wanton, feral and desirable… I wished with all my soul that I could capture that beauty.” He runs his fingertips over the mound of my exposed breast. “And now, here you are again, looking more exquisite than ever and I finally get my chance.” I close my eyes and concentrate on his touch. I can’t see the camera flashing anymore, but I can hear it. I don’t care. I’m too damn horny to care.

“Give me your hands.” I open my eyes and he’s leaning over me. I reach for him and he takes my wrists, helping me to sit up again.

“Take it off,” he says, holding the sleeve of the robe so that I don’t mess up my nails. I remove my arms from the robe and he lays it back on the bed so that it’s still behind me.

“Lie back.” I lay on the bed and he goes over the covered tray and removes the red satin. There are all kinds of goodies on that thing. I try to see what they are, but my eyes are drawn to the rope he removes—red velvet. He loops it around my right wrist four times—a little snug—so that it makes a wide bracelet before he makes a knot and attaches the ends to the headboard. He repeats the process with my left wrist so that my arms are spread over the bed.

Now… I’m vulnerable.

I watch as he folds the satin in half, then in half again like a blindfold. He places it over my eyes, but he doesn’t tie it. This means that he doesn’t want me to move—a silent command indicated only by the satin blindfold. I lick my lips in anticipation and I hear the camera flashing again accompanied by my Dom’s heavy breathing. He’s really turned on, and that turns me on.

There’s silence for a moment, then I smell the citrus and feel his hands. It’s orange oil, and he’s going to massage me. I prepare myself for the torment that I know will follow. His hands are incredible and only make me want more of him. I know he plans to torture me for as long as possible.

His oily hands start just below the collar and move to my shoulders, working away whatever tension remained from the day. He moves slowly to my arms, covering my skin with the delicious citrus oil and leaving a kiss in both of my palms when he’s finished. He travels back down my arms to the side of my body, bypassing my breasts and moving to my sides. I try not to react to my disappointment, but he knows and I hear him attempt to cover a chuckle. He caresses my belly slowly, leisurely, covering every inch of it in oil and luring me into sweet relaxation. I’m awash with desire again, however, when he gets to my legs—covering them from hip to toe, including the sensitive flesh in the crease of my pelvis, and paying extra attention to my inner thighs.

Goddammit, fucking hell, this is killing me!

There’s silence for a few moments again before I hear the sound of metal. What the hell is that? My question is answered a few moments later when I feel a cuff being attached to my left ankle, then another cuff attached to my right, and I can’t close my legs.

It’s a spreader bar.

The air is hitting my clit, heating and cooling it at the same time. My breathing is suddenly erratic as that little piece of meat takes command of my body and demands satisfaction. I can’t be calm anymore. I’m painfully horny and desperately in need of satisfaction. I feel my Dom’s oily hands on my breasts now, oiling the mounds and working their way to my nipples. When I feel the pinch, I bite my lip to keep from crying out. His fingers and lips work me mercilessly to the edge of sanity. I can’t close my legs and there is no stimulation to my clit, but the burn goes directly to the spot and sets my soul ablaze. I whimper in my throat, my yearning and frustration building and taking over my thought process. I want to come! I need to come! Please…!

“Relax, baby,” he whispers, releasing my nipples from his mouth and fingers. I’m puffing, panting, out of breath with need. I feel his skin against mine and I don’t know if he has shed his shirt or his pants or both, but that only makes me want him more. I ball my fists and panic immediately, concerned that I’ve ruined my nails.

“Only one smudge, baby,” he answers my unspoken question, and I can hear the camera again. Oh, God, how long will this torment last? I don’t know whether to calm my body or let it rise until it erupts into orgasm on its own.

“Damn, Baby, your nipples are so hard.” With that, I feel the pleasure and the pain of the nipple clamp.

“Aaaaahhhhh!” I cry out, mindless of punishment and silence. My body is throbbing with need and I can’t stand it anymore. He repeats the process with the other nipple and I cry out again.

“Fuck, you’re making me want you so much!” and the camera flashes again and again. Next, I feel a single drop of something cold on my clit and it’s light a fucking blowtorch. I nearly convulse off the bed when feel his entire hand cover my pussy and begin to stroke up and down, up and down—over my lips, my clit, everything.

“Oooooooohhhhhh!” I groan mournfully as the powerful pleasure racks through my body and makes me mindless. My thighs are trembling as he takes a clamped nipple in his mouth again. The feeling is excruciating and he hasn’t told me if I can come yet.

“Quiet!” he chides softly and clamps onto my nipple again. I’m panting… hard! I’m going to hyperventilate. I know it. The feeling is so good that I’m dizzy. I don’t know what to do.

---

CHRISTIAN

Those red nipple clamps look exquisite on her. Every few minutes, I have to take a picture, because her body changes like I’ve never seen before. Is it because she’s carrying my children? Is it because I’ve seen her sexual parts like I’ve seen other women and didn’t pay attention to her uniqueness? I don’t know, but nearly every response tonight is different than before and I have to capture every moment that I can. I wish I had done this in the playroom—the movie cameras are in there.

Her red nails grasps the red ropes and that turns me on.
The red satin is covering her eyes and moving every so often as she tries to keep her head still and that turns me on.
She occasionally licks and bites those luscious red lips and that turns me on.
Her beautiful pale skin flushes crimson with her unchained desire against the backdrop of that red robe behind her and that turns me on.
Red nipple clamps dangle from beautiful blush red pebbled nipples and that turns me on.
A spreader bar with red cuffs keep her feet with red toenails separated and her pussy accessible to me and that turns me on.

I’ve had this “outside-of-the-red-room” red theme in mind for quite some time, but it was just never the right time. Now, I’m seeing my Butterfly, my submissive, my wife in a whole new light. I’m almost drunk with glee that she belongs to me and she’s so beautiful, so sexy, spread out here in front of me, the agony of pleasure ripping through her body. I have to see this…

I’ve removed my clothes except for my boxer briefs so that the oil on her body doesn’t ruin them. Never moving the hand that’s stimulating that sweet pussy, I climb between her legs and move the spreader bar up so that her legs fall open. At the same time, I slide my middle finger inside of her and go right to the magic spot. She gasps loudly at the intrusion and shakes fiercely when I zero in on my target. I put my face right there at her pussy and watch the pulsing of her clit. It’s fascinating and hot and sexy. I take my oiled thumb and touch it. The response is immediate. Not only does her body jerk, but her clit visibly hardens under my thumb.

I’ve never watched her clit throb at my touch. I’ve felt it, tasted it, but never watched it. Now, sitting here between her legs with my longest finger inside of her massaging her G-spot and my oiled thumb meeting it on the outside, rubbing her little nub until it’s pink and swollen, pulsing and juicy, shining and slippery from the oil, it’s really quite astounding. I mean, of course, it’s arousing—her beautiful pussy is right here in my face. It’s everything I can do not to lick this juicy, delectable fruit dry, but that’s not the purpose of this exercise. I want to watch her muscles when she comes. I want to see what they do so that I can imagine it when she’s clamping around my dick.

It’ll be impossible for her to hold still during that time, but she must because I have to see. The spreader bar will prevent her from closing her legs, but there’s nothing to stop her hips from moving, but she must. I have to see it.

“Don’t move,” I command as I push her gently further towards her orgasm. “When you come, I want you to stay still. Don’t move anything. If you do that, if you’re a good girl and do as you’re told, I’ll reward you…” with all night orgasms. Her breathing is erratic as she grips the ropes attached to her wrists. Her moans begin. I don’t stop them, because I know that she can’t keep quiet and keep still, too.

“Sir!” she exclaims, her legs shaking involuntarily.

“Still, Baby,” I coach.

“I can’t… I’m trying…” she pants. She’s going to come so hard. The babies will prevent her impressive back arch. I’ll just have to hope that the spreader bar keeps her still enough for me to enjoy the show. I continue to stroke and rub and she continues to rise—quickly, now. Her moans are tortured, her pleasure is sweet agony. Her clit and lips are engorged, flushed—dark pink, almost red. It’s fucking beautiful—more to add to the red theme.

“Aaahhhhh!” It’s begun. It’s a long one, an orgasm so deep that it starts before it starts. You don’t know if you’re coming or still rising. I never lose my rhythm as my free hand snaps more pictures of her tormented body, not to mention close-ups of her beautiful, throbbing pussy.

“Aaaaaaahhhhh!” It’s getting deeper, but it’s not there just yet. Her muscles are beginning to tighten around my finger and I watch and they close and pull me in, white cream sliding down my hand and pooling in my palm.

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” I imagine how my muscles feel at the base of my balls when I’m emptying inside of her—a thumping, burning, pulsing, crippling pleasure that makes my whole body freeze. I wonder if she’s feeling the same thing while her juices anoint my hand and her lips kiss my finger.

“Oh Gooooooooooooooooooooood! Oh Goooooooooooooooooood!” And there it is. Finally. She’s a good girl. She’s keeping still for me—or she’s paralyzed with pleasure. Either way, her red, pulsing pussy is right in my face. I move my thumb away and she rides out this massive orgasm on her own, her clit pounding like an erect dick—hard, pebbled, red, and vibrating. Her muscles are squeezing my finger so hard—still massaging her G-spot—that I can’t pull it out, not that I would dare try right now. The color is beautiful, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I’ve never been this interested in how a pussy looked, only how it felt and how I could make it feel, but it’s fascinating and beautiful. I want her to feel this way all the time and I’m proud to be the one to make her feel this—to feel her wrap around me like she’s wrapping around my finger. To flush dark pink, then red with immense pleasure that racks her body until she’s paralyzed and spent. This is glorious!

She finally falls limp, breathing hard and almost crying. What an experience! I climb the bed and bring my face to hers, sliding the scarf from her eyes.

“What a good girl you are,” I commend her while I kiss her cheek. “Such a good girl! Now, Mrs. Grey, I need to be inside you. That turned me on like nothing I’ve ever seen before. So tell me, do I get to fuck that beautiful mouth of yours, or that perfect pussy? Which do you want?” She takes a few deep breaths and turns wanton eyes to me. Licking and biting her still-red lips salaciously, she says, “My mouth, Sir. Please, Sir.” I smile widely at her.

“As you wish,” I say as I rise to my knees and slide out of my boxer briefs, Greystone springing into action and bobbing up and down once I release him. We’ve just about gotten down to a science now where I can kneel over her without putting any weight on her and my shaft is right at her mouth. I hold on to the headboard for support and after preparing myself for the warmth that I know will follow, I lower myself to her lovely lips.

“Haaaah!” I gasp when her lips clamp furiously around my dick. Not so fast! I don’t want to come so soon. “Gently! Gently!” I breathe. She releases her lips and moves slowly. Starting with my head, she sucks me in—gently and loudly slurping as she moves along. It drives me wild.

“Ssssss!” I hiss as her lips run over my head and partially up and down my dick. So hot and wet and her tongue does magical things to me. “Yessssss,” I hiss as I close my eyes and let her feast on my erection, “that’s it, Baby.” I angle myself and slide deeper into her mouth until I reach the back of her throat. It’s hard not to thrust, but I don’t want to hurt her. She has to control the depth from here.

Instinctively, she closes her mouth tight and starts to suck harder. I don’t get the chance to stop her because it feels so good. I groan from my chest as I try to keep my hips still, but I already feel the tightening of my balls.

“Baby, slow down,” I groan. “I can’t hold it, slow down,” but that only made her intensify her assault. She lifts her head, taking as much of me as she can while lying on her back, then wraps her lips tight around me and slowly pulls all the way to the tip. The feeling is insane, enough to drive me out of my mind, but not make me come yet.

“Fuck, that’s good! Oh fuck, that’s good!” I pant, as she repeats the process over and over again until I’m so ready to blow that I’m sweating. The veins are popping out in my arms and sweat is streaming down my chest. My dick is hot and hard and ready and she slowly changes her stroke, pulling and pushing now in that deep slow stroke.

“Oh, fucking hell, that’s so good!” I groan, burying my chin in my chest and now rolling my hips to match her stroke. She groans on my dick and the vibration starts my downfall.

“Fuck me, Baby,” I breathe as I fuck her delectable mouth, “fuck me!” She doesn’t change her rhythm. She matches me stroke for stroke, with suction and power and force, even when I speed up.

“Ah, baby, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come really hard!” I warn and she continues to work me with her lips, strong and deep and hot, again and again and again until…

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!”

That final hum was my undoing. I blow hard down her throat, holding still and enjoying the warmth of the inside of her mouth and the suction of her cheeks as she swallows my seed. A vise has my chest in its grip as I hold my breath and ride out this intense pleasure. My muscles are still jerking as she slowly starts to work up and down my shaft again, causing me the most intense post-orgasmic pleasure/pain experience. Oh, God, I’m going to fuck her all night!

And fuck her all night I do!

I sit her on my lap and take her from behind, tormenting those nipple clamps. Then I bend her over doggy-style, hanging on to that mile-long braid and plunging into her until she’s pulsing around my dick once more.

I lay her on her back, raise her hips to mine, and drill her until she’s quivering in orgasm.

I bury my face between her thighs and suckle that juicy clit so deep until she comes so hard that she has to beg me to stop.

When she’s almost had enough, I lay her on her side and lean her into me. I hold her close against me, her back glued to my chest and my mouth marking wherever it can reach while I hold her prisoner with my hand secured around her neck and that collar. She coos and quivers, calling my name while I have her leg wrapped backwards around my hip, loving her slowly and deeply until she’s paralyzed and speechless with one final toe-curling orgasm and I pump into her in a wild, hot, painful, and cosmic explosion.

Somewhere around eight or nine in the morning, we fall asleep.

I awake somewhere around noon and I have to admit that my body is aching like you wouldn’t believe! Fuck! I’ve never fucked myself into pain before. I dread to know how Butterfly is feeling. I hope I didn’t overwork her. She was just so beautiful that I couldn’t stop myself.

I don’t know what came over me in the doctor’s office yesterday. I was so excited to see our babies, to see what their faces would look like. Then, when I saw our daughter, the whole world stopped. I mean, it stopped–like screeching halt! I didn’t hear anything or see anything but that gorgeous little girl on the screen. Time stopped, air stopped, space stopped, everything stopped and nothing mattered at that moment, but my baby girl… nothing at all. Not the hacker, not the company, not my money… nothing!

When I realized that she had to be brought her into this horrible world, I became consumed with protecting her and my son and my wife from anything and everything that could possibly hurt them. My mind was going so fast that I couldn’t put my thoughts together. I couldn’t formulate a cohesive sentence. It was incredible and terrifying. All of the emotions that I’ve ever felt in my life came crashing down at once and erased each other. I couldn’t even speak. Anything I said after that was mechanical.

Then I saw my son—my handsome, wonderful son—jerking around in there like he couldn’t wait to be free and take on the world. I could hear him in my head saying, “Let me at ‘em!” I was so overwhelmed that I didn’t think I would be able to stand when it was time to leave. Butterfly probably thought that it was just my sense of excess asking for twenty copies of the pictures, but I just didn’t think that was enough. I want to make a wall out of their faces so that I could put one in my office and one in my study so that I could gaze at them day in and day out and remember why God put me here on this earth—but I realized that I was asking a bit much and a poster will do just fine… a really, really big poster.

And then she spoke.
That beautiful, remarkable, unbelievable woman that is carrying my name and my children spoke.

I don’t even remember what she said. I just knew that I needed to take care of her and make her happy. Dinner at Altura was out of the question now. I needed to get her home. During the entire ride, I tried to think of ways that I could show her what she meant to me. Money means nothing, so gifts are even more useless. I could only give her me, but I had to do it in my dominance—become what I considered my most powerful self and then give that “self” to her. As I was planning this during our ride home, every time that I had ever made her feel small, hurt, useless, angry, disappointed, unloved, or insignificant came to mind and I felt like a first class asshole who truly didn’t deserve her.

I thank God more now since we’ve been together than I ever have in my whole life, but I truly thanked God at that moment for Butterfly being the woman that she is and for her coming into my life and changing my perspective on everything I thought I was or could be. She’s incredible.

I don’t know if I found the words to tell her what she meant to me when we were sitting in the car, but the plan finally took form when I got out of the car and all I could think was “Love her. Love her with everything. Give yourself to her until she doesn’t want anymore, then hold her until she sleeps and be there to chase the Boogie Man away.”

And now, I’m aching. I’m aching all over with the memory of loving that precious, beautiful Butterfly all night until neither of us could even stay awake anymore. I sure hope I didn’t hurt her, though I smile and savor every ache and pain I feel as a reminder of my fantastic night with this gorgeous and insatiable woman. I’m flipping through the pictures of our red night of passion when Jason knocks on my open study door.

“I thought we might have to send out a search party for you,” he jests. “I don’t think I ever remember you sleeping in this late.” I turn off the camera to hide the pictures of my sexy wife.

“I didn’t sleep in,” I tell him. “I only got four hours.” Jason’s silence causes me to turn and look at him. His expression says it all.

“Well, damn,” is all he can say. “Um… is Her Highness okay?” He asks his question carefully and I almost want to slug him one and tell him that’s none of his goddamn business, but I know what he’s getting at, so he gets a pass this time.

“Her Highness is perfect,” I declare. “Out like a light, though.” He just shakes his head.

“Okay, that’s enough. Alex called this morning. He discovered that Myrick had to be moved from his position in Seattle because he blew his cover.”

“Who else besides us knew who he was?” I ask.

“That’s it. Us. He blew his cover by revealing himself to you. People in witness protection don’t get to choose where they go, so I don’t even know how he ended up in Seattle. Anyway, when I started digging to find out why and how Robin Myrick faked his own death, it tipped off the right people and they eventually had to get him out. Unfortunately, that means that he could be anywhere now using any identity.”

“Shit! That means that we may never catch this fucker!” I hiss.

“I don’t know, sir,” Jason says. “I looked in his eyes and I did everything I knew to break him and nothing worked. This is personal. He’s careful right now, but he’s going to get careless, because he doesn’t only want to hurt you. He wants to see you hurt. Getting back at you for your imagined crimes against him is more important than his own safety. He made that very clear. He’s going to slip and when he does, we’ll get him.”

“Well, I’ll feel better about this whole thing when we’ve got this guy under lock and key,” I say as I open an email from Cholometes. Why is he emailing me directly?

“Do we have anything planned today, sir?”

“Not that I can think of,” I tell him. “I’ll have to wait until Butterfly is awake and see if she wants to do anything.”

“Did everything go okay with the ultrasound?” he asks. He still has no explanation for my demeanor yesterday and I think he’s still searching.

“Yes, it did,” I say fishing for the folder from the doctor’s office and giving him a picture of each child.

“Wow,” he says. “Technology’s come a looooooong way.”

“Yes, it has,” I say, reading the email from Cholometes, declaring that although he’s going to keep his promise and make sure we catch the fuckers hacking into my system, he still loves Butterfly and nothing’s going to change that. He reiterates that he’s going to do all that he can to make sure that she’s happy, and he will still be there if I slip up. He’s laying down arms and won’t look to bring me down in any way, but he won’t go away because he loves her very much.

Bad timing, Colostomy. I love her now more than ever.

“Is everything okay, sir?” Oh, good God, give it a rest, man. I fucked my wife all night long and except for the fact that some fucker wants to see me make a mistake so that he can take her from me—which is nothing new—everything’s fine. I look over at him.

“Jason, stop digging. I’m fine. Except for the fact that I want to catch this crazy fucker digging into my system, everything’s fine. Okay?” he nods and holds his hand up in surrender.

“Okay. Okay. Just checkin’,” and he finally leaves my office so that I can continue to admire the woman in red.

Time flies by as I comb through thousands of emails, deleting and ignoring Cholometes’ email completely. Somewhere around four, Butterfly stumbles into my office in another of her long-sleeve Victorian nightgowns. I love those things on her.

“Christian?” she says, her voice soft.

“Yes, baby?” I say.

“Um, about last night…” She has my full attention now. I turn to face her completely and wait. Did I hurt her? Was it took much for her? Is something wrong? I take a deep breath and steady myself. She holds her stomach looks up at me.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

I frown and wait for a moment, because her words just aren’t registering. Then, we both break down in simultaneous laughter. She walks over to me and crawls into my lap. I lean her over and kiss her passionately. She thrusts her fingers into my hair and returns my ardor.

“You were beautiful last night,” I croon, looking into her deep blue eyes.

“You were unstoppable,” she says, lust lacing her voice.

“Are you okay?” I ask concerned. She shrugs.

“My lady parts are a bit out of commission for a moment, but I’m no worse for wear. You did all the work.” I nod.

“I’m sore.” She frowns.

“You’re sore?” I nod. “Where?”

“All over.” She examines me.

“Christian, you’re never sore,” she says.

“Well, baby, it’s like you said. I was unstoppable, and it was a real workout.” I think about controlling my leg and thigh muscles as I drilled into her slowly while we were lying on our sides. “The pain is still worth the pleasure.” She looks at me with those same eyes she did last night. “Don’t look at me like that. Your lady parts are out of commission and I’m sore.”

“I know,” she says seductively, “but it doesn’t stop me from mentally wanting you.”

Holy fuck! Who the hell can resist that shit? I dive into her kiss once more and try to tame the beast rising up in me. I couldn’t placate him if I tried.

“You drive me crazy,” I say, kissing her nose and the corner of her mouth.

“You too me too,” she breathes, returning my kisses.

“We must behave, Mrs. Grey. Neither of us is in any condition to feed to Love Monster.”

“I know,” she says, kissing my neck and nuzzling into my chest.

“What would you like to do today?”

“Veg out, eat, and watch TV.” I smile.

“That sounds like a good idea. What would you like to watch?”

“Sleeping Beauty,” she says with a smile. I kiss her nose.

“Sleeping Beauty it is, then.”

*-*

Barney is the first person that I see when I get to Data Central on Monday morning. I dropped that DiPignano shit because I’m never going to remember to call him that. Hell, I hardly even noticed or recognized that name if I saw it on emails. I had him listed as “Barney” in my contacts and never paid the full name any attention. Maybe he was right about me not extending him the proper respect that I would my other employees. When I think about it, I’m the only one who didn’t know that he was so confident in his craft. I knew that he was good in his craft, but not that confident. I even had Butterfly thinking he was this meek little nerd, which is probably why she misdiagnosed his behavior as shrinking. She’s going to be shocked as fuck if she ever sees him now.

We had a long talk about it and he doesn’t care if I continue to call him Barney, as long as I remember and respect his position in the company. I always have, I just didn’t blare it across the loudspeakers. So, we dropped the formalities, though he kept the GQ look. He’s become GEH’s most eligible bachelor until the ladies found out that he was engaged to be married. However, you know some women. “He’s not married yet” can be heard floating around some circles.

“I’ve got good news, sir,” he greets me.

“What do you have?” I ask.

“James and I have narrowed the signals down based on an area they keep hitting. We’ve got one that hit the same radius several times,” he says.

“We’ve correlated the hits on the cell towers with the hits from the computer,” James chimes in. “Every other signal from these towers have been eliminated as random. We’re getting a lot of those, but we’re getting more than one hit in these particular areas that match the scrambled signal in from the worms—several at times.”

“This is good,” I sigh. “This is really good.”

“We’ve been able to narrow down a general vicinity since there are so many hits in the same place. Our next step was to see what was in the area.” Barney touches a screen and the satellite image of the area comes up. “Vacant buildings, internet cafes, the library… Unfortunately, lots of places to get computer access, but not sophisticated enough to scramble the signal, not to the degree that we’re seeing anyway. In a residential location, we just have to see who’s out there with the best toys.”

“We’ve got it narrowed down to a three to four-mile radius in both areas. I don’t know if that’s enough to work with…”

“It’s plenty,” Jason says. “We can set up a surveillance perimeter and check out the locals.”

“What if our suspect makes you?” I ask. Jason cocks his head and twists his lips as if I’ve just said something stupid… which I have. I hold my hand up. “Forget I asked—forgot who I was talking to.” He actually rolls his eyes at me, arrogant fuck.

“So we set up a perimeter around both areas and look for what?”

“Like I said, just watch the locals, observe what’s going on in the area. See who comes and goes and get a take and a background check on who we can. This sort of thing will be a process of elimination—while the team here does the technical work, we’ll get started on the physical, the footwork. It’ll be a little tedious, but that’s what we do.”

“No more tedious than picking out two specific locations from scrambled signals and burners that could have taken us anywhere in the world,” Barney says confidently without moving his eyes from the screen. My brow furrows, but James just holds his head down and stifles a laugh. I look over at Jason, who appears to be doing the same thing—though more successfully—as he mouths the word “cocky.” I just shake my head. Getting acquainted with the new Barney/Dino is going to be quite interesting.

“So you’ll need to know where the security team needs to set perimeters, correct?” I ask Barney.

“Not exactly. I’m just the tech guy,” he says, and I know it’s a shot at Jason’s prior statement. Jason just rolls his eyes again. I get the feeling he’s used to this. “I don’t need any other details, but they’re going to need details from us. I’m assuming that you’ll need the layout of the neighborhood and possibly a few locations where you can set up a stakeout.” I look at Jason and he nods once.

“You assume correctly.”

“You’ve got your radius… or radiuses, I should say.” All movement stops.

“How many are there?” I lament.

“Two that I’m fairly certain of, but there’s a third party in there somewhere. I think you’re dealing with a standard triangle—money, information, and the zenith. I can tell you that, most likely, the guy at the top is not getting his hands dirty, so sniffing out his location is going to be the hard part. Hopefully, there’s only one of him, but I can tell you with strong conviction that Dodd has only been speaking to three people. He hasn’t called anybody else on that cell phone since the word went out that our ‘suspect’ was released from jail.”

“So… approximate locations?”

“Just like we suspected—Belfair and Spokane,” James says.

“So where do we start?” I ask.

“We have to go with both,” Welch says after sitting quietly for several minutes. “We have to set up residency like yesterday and we need to establish four corners as soon as we can. Does it look like we’re dealing with professionals or just a couple of grunts who happen to know what they’re doing?” he asks Barney.

“It’s hard to tell,” Barney answers. “Some of the greatest minds became that way because they were underestimated. I would say treat them like professionals until you learn for sure otherwise.”

“In the meantime, here are some demographics of the areas you’re going to be staking,” James says, handing Welch and Jason a stack of papers each. They thumb through them quietly while I’m looking at the satellite picture of Belfair. The place reminds me of that God-forsaken island where David held Butterfly captive. It’s a small community sprawled out a bit, but nestled inside a cluster of forests. It’s clearly one of those places that you don’t know is there unless you know it’s there. It’s the perfect place to hide.

“We need to be careful,” Jason says, breaking my train of thought. “These are neighborhoods. I mean, we could easily set up perimeters, but I’ve got a feeling that when we find these guys, they’re going to blend right in.” He looks over at me. “We’re going to have to bring Dodd in soon.” I look at Welch.

“How close is he to getting the information we need on Myrick’s past dealings?” I ask, and he knows that I’m talking about Cholometes.

“I’ll have to check,” he says. “He’s a loner on most things. He does what he needs to do and he brings me the results. That’s how we both operate and I like it that way, but I’ll see if he can give me a time frame.” I undo my tie and nod. I can’t ask for anything more.

“I just want this to be over as quickly as possible,” I say sharply. “My patience is wearing thin and I’m ready to get on with my fucking life!”

“We’ll have perimeters set up by day’s end, sir,” Jason assures me and Welch nods.

“I have a conference call in twenty minutes. Is there anything else I need to know right now?”

“Not immediately, but you do need to prepare to bring Dodd in,” Welch says again. “I’ve got a feeling this thing is about to come to a head, and we’re going to need him to lead us to these guys.”

“What makes you think he’ll be so cooperative?” I ask. Welch actually scoffs at me.

“Oh, he’ll cooperate. Don’t you worry about that. You should probably get to know him better though. I’ve prepared a dossier on him. You might want to look at it. It’ll give you some idea of why he was so ripe for the picking. I’ll make sure you have a copy of it within the hour.” I nod and leave the room with Jason close behind.

“Don’t you need to be in there assisting with the perimeter and planning?” I ask.

“Alex will keep me up to date. You’ve forgotten protocol in possibly hostile times,” he says. He’s right, I did forget. If we’re not in the penthouse, I’m always in earshot or line of sight during times like these. You would think I would be safer in Grey House, but the Pedophile showed us that we were mistaken about that. That reminds me that I never finished that space behind my office. I probably want to get that done even if I may never or rarely use it. Right now, it’s literally a hole in the wall.

“Andrea, I need coffee… and the Birmingham file,” I say as I enter my office.

*-*

Things are quieter than I would like for the next 24 hours. I distract myself with a few dull meetings and a couple of small acquisitions that I had my eye on, as well as spending every free moment with Butterfly. I already knew the story of Cinderella… somewhat… but we spend Tuesday night in the land of “bippity boppity boo” anyway. It’s strange to me how I can relate to so many of the Disney classics—young, mistreated girl is blessed with a fairy godmother who facilitates her escape from the evil stepmother, and she ends up marrying the prince and living happily ever after. I really should have watched or read these stories as a child. Next time, we’ll be sure to watch Bambi.

Wednesday is as eventful as Tuesday was quiet. Welch and Cholometes make their way into my office to update me on what Brian has found out about Myrick. He never comes to my office alone. I’m sure it’s not because he’s afraid of me. He mostly likely very correctly assumes that we’ll come to blows if left alone, so he makes sure that he has an escort. It must be to protect himself because I would personally love to get that fucker alone.

“I’ve come across enough information to put this guy away for quite a while, even if we didn’t have the evidence we have on your company.” He sits in front of me with an iPad.

“I thought we wanted to be careful about transmitting classified data across the network,” I say.

“I’m not on your network,” he declares, still scrolling through his iPad.

“Exactly what network are you on?” I demand.

“The CIA’s,” he says nonchalantly, awaiting my response. I really hate this cocky ass fucker. “Your golden boy is wanted in 10 states on 24 counts of fraud and embezzlement under eight aliases… so far.”

“How do you know they’re all him?” He raises his head and looks at me, waiting for me to answer my own questions.

Of course, bread crumbs.

“I’m going to need more than that this time,” I tell him. I don’t have time for his games.

“Well, that’s what you’ve got. Now, do you want to hear more or should I just pack up my shit and leave?” I look over at Jason.

“I told you that I wouldn’t be the only one behaving myself. This fucker wants me to grovel and I’m ready to hit him,” I warn.

“Take your best shot, pretty boy!” he shoots.

“You know, that’s always meant to be an insult, but all that means to me is that I’m one good-looking motherfucker and you already know it. Now if you really want to know just how tough I am, keep that shit up. I’ll beat your ass into next week!”

“Door’s open anytime, Red. Like I said, take your best shot!” And this fucker is out of his seat. I’m coming around my desk like a goddamn freight train and Jason is in front of me in moments.

“Sit the fuck down!” Welch says to Cholometes. “We don’t have time for this shit! You two want to beat the fuck out of each other when this is over, that’s fine. In the meantime, we’re right on the heels of wrapping this shit up, so let’s get it done!” Welch holds his hand out to Cholometes who, after a bit of a stare down with me, hands the iPad to Welch.

“Sit down, sir,” he says quietly. “We need to remember that we’re all on the same team, at least for now.” I glare at Cholometes. This isn’t over yet, you asshole. I back into my seat and sit down.

“He’s wanted in all three states on the west coast,” Welch says, thumbing through the information. “Two in the Bible belt, three more in the Midwest and two in New England. He’s been doing this for years—under more names than the Feds can track. Each identity disappears when he’s done with it. He used Myrick because he wants you to know who he is. He’s a master at hiding. He got away with this so many times and nobody had any clue it was him. Even now, some of them still don’t know. He’s leaving a trail for you so that in the end, he wants you to go right to where he is. He knows that you’re going to find him eventually—and he wants you to.

“He sets up these bogus companies, then uses them as the holding company for the money he siphons off of whatever victim he’s decided to hit. Then he starts to divide the money up into different smaller accounts, and later orchestrates a ‘sale’ of his business. There’s no way right now of telling where the money actually ended up, but this is how he ends up with so much money ‘in his mattress.’”

“How can he do this while he’s under witness protection?” I ask.

“They don’t know about it,” Welch says. “He picks up these aliases and he does this stuff right under their noses—all from Comerica bank. He definitely has an inside source, but whoever it is, it’s not a teller. It’s somebody up on the ladder that can bury his activities and move his money.”

“And why can’t we find them and just take them both down?”

“Timing and position. He’s going to make a move to shift that money once he knows the gig is up. That’s how we catch his behind-the-scenes man—or woman—at Comerica. Whoever it is, he’s high enough on the totem pole for us not to be able to just walk in there and get him. What’s more, the feds think they’re still dealing with Millfeld. They have no idea that he’s been using all these aliases. We have to get some more info, but we have reason to believe that he has something to do with a really, really, really big drug ring in Detroit. We don’t know what, but we know that they’re looking for him and not because they want to reminisce over old times.”

“That’s why he’s in witness protection,” I say and Welch nods.

“He’s been in hiding since he faked his death. If you had Detroit’s equivalent of the mafia looking for you, you’d be hiding, too,” Welch adds. He’s a brave little bastard. If I had the mob looking for me, I’d leave the fucking country! “I would say that these other companies have just been practice, even though he’s siphoned millions from these and probably even more, he was doing it all to get to you.”

“Well, come and get me, fucker,” I say to no one in particular. “I’ll be waiting when you get here.” As I’m having daydreams of breaking that fucker’s neck with my bare hands, I get a glimpse of Cholometes glaring at me like he could do the same to me. I match his glare and the stare down commences. I think the other alpha males in the room just decide to let this happen and see who’s going to win. I don’t even have to wonder.

I don’t know how much time passes before he stands, straightens his jacket, and walks silently out of my office. Welch just shakes his head at me.

“Don’t piss him off, sir,” he warns. “We still need him.”

“Where have you been for the last year?” I hiss. “He’s already pissed. He’s in the perfect position to take me down, and he can do it whether he’s pissed or not. So, I’m not going to waste my time being nice to him. In fact, I respect the bastard enough to let him know that I’m aware that he’s the fucking enemy and he shows me the same respect. Anything less would be an insult. Now, somebody get Claude fucking Bastille in the goddamn gym so I can kick the shit out of him instead of Colostomy!”

About an hour later, I’m in the company gym giving my trainer the workout of his fucking life! I’m beginning to be wound tight again with us appearing to be so close to Myrick yet so fucking far away. My beautiful wife is carrying our beautiful babies and because of me, the insecurity that comes with being pregnant has been multiplied probably tenfold. Now, my staff wants me to kiss the ass of the man who would gladly see me floating face down in Lake Washington to have the woman that I love, but for the fact that said woman wouldn’t come within a hundred feet of him if something like that were to happen. I feel every vein in my body pumping, every muscle pulsing, every bead of sweat dripping when…

“Grey! Stop!”

I look up and I have Bastille on the ground covering his head in a defensive position. Shit! That’s never happened before. Who was I seeing? I look up and the very person who was occupying my mind at the time is the voice who stopped me from pummeling Bastille.

“Let the man get up before you don’t have a trainer anymore.” I look down at Claude, who is looking up at me like he doesn’t know who I am. He probably doesn’t right now.

“I’m sorry, Claude,” I mumble. “A lot is going on. I got carried away.” I hold my hand out to help him up and I think my apology stunned him more than the beat down.

“I can only imagine,” he says, looking at me puzzled. “Get the hell out of this place for the rest of the day, Grey. You’re gonna kill somebody.” I glance over at Cholometes.

“Good idea,” I say, ripping off the gloves and throwing them in whichever direction they fly. This whole situation is going to make me burst a blood vessel.

I think I take the longest hot shower I’ve ever taken trying to calm my nerves. My skin has to be red and puckered in areas when I finally get out and dry myself. I’m combing my hair out and I remember for a moment when I used to wear it this way—slicked back off my face and neat. That’s when the Pedophile and I were… together, for lack of a better word. My hair is still wet and it lays down amazingly easy and for a brief moment, I get a glimpse of the man I used to be. I quickly run my hands through my hair and muss it up… a lot!

“You look like birds are nesting in your head.” James is waiting for me outside the locker room and Jason isn’t far away.

“Yeah, well… Ana likes it,” I comment, running my hand through my wet hair and trying to tame it again, but not too much.

“I sent Allie to the penthouse to keep an eye on Ana,” he says. “You need a boys’ night more than ever, so let’s go.” I look at my watch. It’s not even five o’clock yet.

“It’s early, and I want to see my wife,” I protest.

“You’ll see your wife when you get home, and we’re going to get some dinner before we go to the club—something greasy and unhealthy. Don’t fight me. We’re leaving. Let’s go.” He gestures for me to walk ahead of him. I look over at Jason, whose face says that he has no intention of rescuing me from this little outing. I sigh heavily and walk in front of him, resigned to my fate and the fact that I won’t get to see my succulent, beautiful Butterfly for a few more hours.

---

A/N: 

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Love and Handcuffs!
Lynn x