Chapter XIV ← FanFiction - Christian and Anastasia

LAY THE CLAIM

CHAPTER XIV

The air is a bit chilly tonight, but the way I’m feeling right now, I wouldn’t even need my leather jacket on. But years of habit of taking care of myself gets the better of me and I walk out of the car with it on with the champagne bottle in my hand. I knock on her door with an enthusiasm I cannot hide. She opens the door. My heart stutters with the sight of her. The sight of her is like getting a glimpse of heaven. (← Heaven by Frank Sinatra)

“Hi,” she says shyly. Her gaze takes me in, and she more than approves.

“Hi,” I say back to her. She opens the door wider, inviting me in, “come in please.”

“If I may,” I say amused. “I thought we’d celebrate your graduation. Nothing beats a good Bollinger,” I say holding up the champagne bottle.

“Interesting choice of words,” responds Anastasia with meaning.

“I really like your wit Anastasia,” I say.

“Oh Christian, we’ve packed everything. I only have tea cups. Would that do?” she asks.

“Teacups? They’d be fine,” I say. She heads to the kitchen to get the teacups.

When I walk into the kitchen, I find a brown parcel on the coffee table with a note attached to it. I’d recognize it anywhere, because that very quote written on a piece of paper was in my dreams.

“I agree to the conditions, Angel; because you know best what my punishment ought to be; only – only – don’t make it more than I can bear!”

When she walks back in, she finds me staring at it.

“That’s for you,” she says anxiously.

“Hmm, I figured as much. Very apt quote.” My fingers trace the writing. I look up to her. “But I thought I was D’Urberville, not Angel. Since you decided on the debasement,” I say with a predatory grin. “Trust you to find something so appropriate.”

“But, it’s also my plea,” she whispers.

“A plea?” I’m surprised, but I get it. “For me to go easy on you?” I ask softly. She nods.

“Anastasia, I bought these for you,” I say trying not to show my hurt. I want her to accept my gifts. I don’t know why I have this urge to take care of her, give things for her. “If you accept them, I’ll go easier on you,” I say.

“Christian, it’s hard for me to accept them. They’re too expensive,” she says fervently.

“This is what I’m talking about Anastasia; you are defying me. I would like you to have them, and that’s the end of discussion. It’s actually quite simple. You don’t have to think about this. As a submissive you’d be just grateful for them. You just accept what I buy you because it pleases me when you do so,” I say.

“Christian, I wasn’t your submissive when you purchased those for me,” she whispers.

It worries me that she might be changing her mind. I can’t take that.

“No, you weren’t Anastasia, but you’ve agreed.” She gives a sigh. Her mind is concocting some scheme, and I can see that in her face.

“You say they’re mine to do as I wish?” I narrow my eyes knowing she has a scheme up her sleeve, but concede.

“In that case, I’d like to donate them to a charity working for Darfur since you like to help that region of the world. They could probably auction them up.”

Since I gave the books to her, leave it to her to come up with that scheme to not to accept them, and not leave me a say! I’m displeased. She finds a loopholes in my rules, even something as simple as the gift I give her, should she not want it. I feel hurt.

“If that’s what you wish,” I say. My displeasure shows on my lips which are taut like a purse string. She flushes seeing my disappointment.

“Fine! I’ll think about it,” she says.

“Please Anastasia, don’t think. Not about this!” I say quietly. We’re both tense now. She stares down to her fingers. I do like her, a lot. Especially when she’s shy like that. There’s something that pulls me to her. I extend my hand and pull her chin up, gazing into her eyes with a serious expression.

I want to take care of her, I want to do things for her, I want to buy her things; lavish her. I want her to get used to it. I take care of what's mine!

“Anastasia, I’m going to buy you a lot of things. You need to get used to it. I am a very wealthy man and I can easily afford it,” I say leaning down and planting a chaste kiss on her lips. “Please baby,” I say releasing her.

“I feel cheap. It makes me feel like a ho,” she whispers making me exasperated. I run my hand through my hair.

“Anastasia! Don’t ever say that." I say with fervor. "You shouldn’t think like that. Don’t overthink it! You’re placing some vague moral judgment on yourself based on what others might think. I don’t want you to waste your energy on that. This is because you have preconceived notions about our arrangement since yo don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” I say.

She frowns, getting lost in her thoughts. Oh no...she’s overthinking again, and in goes that lip into the captivity of her teeth. I reach out and cup her face, and release the lip, “Hey, stop this, okay?” I say. “Nobody can call you cheap. There’s not a thing that’s cheap about you Anastasia. And I don’t ever want you to call yourself a ‘ho’. You’re a lady! You’re always overthinking. What we have here are some old books which I thought you might enjoy having because I thought it might mean something to you. That’s it. Here, have some champagne,” I say warmly. She smiles back at me, and the sun is up on her face.

“That’s better,” I whisper. When I open the bottle and pour some champagne to her teacup, she’s surprised by its color.

“Christian, it’s pink!” she says her eyes wide, astonished. And that’s one of the things I love about her. I don’t know how she’ll react, or respond to anything I do, simple or complex.

“Yes, it’s Bollinger Grande Année Rosé 1999, an excellent vintage,” I say.

“Such a great vintage in teacups,” she adds making me grin.

“Yes, teacups are an excellent choice. Congratulations on your degree Anastasia,” I say raising my teacup to hers, we clink.

“Thank you,” she says adding, “should we go through the soft limits?” she says making me smile. Are we ever eager to move on Miss Steele? She blushes. I take her hand and lead her to the sofa.

“Always so eager,” I say, pulling her down next to me.

But first I want her to have some champagne in her. Because, she’s always so closed up. If I want her to be open and expressive with me; she needs to loosen up a little bit. As they say in Latin, "In Vino Veritas. There’s truth in wine."

“Your stepfather is a very taciturn man,” I say surprising her.

“Even so, you managed him to eat out of your hand,” she responds.

“That’s only because I know how to fish,” I say.

“Yes, I was going to ask you that. How did you know he was good at fishing or even he liked fishing?” she asks curious.

“You told me, at the coffee shop,” I say surprising her even further. She seems pleased that I listen to her when she talks. She doesn’t remember telling me about it, but pleased that I remembered. She asks me if I tried the wine at the graduation. I tell her, yes, but it was nasty.

“When I tasted it, I thought of you,” she says. “How did you get to be so knowledgeable about wine?” she asks.

“It’s not because I’m very knowledgeable. I just know my own taste, and what I like,” I say. The same goes for everything else in my particular tastes. I just know what I like. Her teacup is nearly empty. I extend the bottle to her encouraging her to have some more. She holds it up, and I fill it up to the meniscus.  We talk about her move to Seattle. I want the champagne to have time to work. She tells me the next day is her last day at work. The week is nearly gone, and no sign of her Blackberry, no ETA. I have to have Taylor to light fire under them. It must be delivered tomorrow.

“I really would love to help you move, but as it is, my sister Mia is coming back from Paris and I’m supposed to pick her up from the airport. But I hear that Elliot is ready to give you both a hand during your move.” I say.

She smiles, “Yes, he is. Kate is very excited about that,” she responds. The thought of Kate the ball crusher, and my brother Elliott is a little disturbing. I shake my head, “strange combination. Who would have thought?” I make an involuntary face.

“What are you planning to do for work?” I ask still waiting for the wine to work its magic. But the response I get surprises me.

“I have a couple of interviews for internships,” she says. I narrow my gaze, and this bit of information strangely upsets me. Why am I the last one to know?

“When were you going to tell me about that?” I ask.

“I just did,” she responds surprised. Taciturn like her step-father. That’s why I have the champagne. If I have a prayer of her talking to me openly, she needs to loosen up. I narrow my eyes on her and ask, “Where?”

“A couple of publishing houses,” she says vaguely.

“You want to be in publishing?” I ask, she nods.

“Well?” I ask.

“Well what?” she responds.

“Oh, come on Anastasia. You’re being obtuse. Which publishing houses?”

“Some small ones,” she murmurs. She doesn’t want me to know. Why?

“Anastasia, why don’t you want to tell me?”

“I don’t want your undue influence Christian,” she murmurs making me frown. She looks at me with her blue eyes examining my expression. “Oh, I think it’s you who is now being obtuse,” she says changing my mood and making me laugh.

“I’m obtuse? Lord, you are challenging. Drink up champagne and let’s talk about these limits,” I say. She drinks every last drop of her champagne, and when I ask if she wants more, she does. I’m pleased. I know for a fact that she gets loquacious when she drinks. Her drinking made her call me the first time when I went to rescue her from that bar the first time. But I just remembered that she also threw up all over the patio and the flower bed because she was hungry.

“Have you eaten today?” I ask her concerned.

“Yes!” she rolls her eyes. “I had a three course meal with my step-dad,” she says petulantly.

Oh baby! Did you just roll your beautiful eyes at me? I lean in and take her chin, staring into those eyes, I breathe my very sincere threat, “Baby, next time you roll those eyes at me, I will take you across my knee.” In fact it’s a promise.

“Oh,” she breathes. It’s an escaped whimper.

“Oh,” I mirror her. I’m beyond excited. Rules darling, “so it begins baby,” I say. I fill her cup again, and she guzzles the whole thing down, staring up at me.

“Do I have your attention now?” I ask her. She nods.

“I want you to answer me,” I say firmly.

“Yes, you’ve got my attention,” she murmurs.

“Alright then,” I say, “the sexual acts. We’ve done most of these,” I say looking at the list of soft limits. She moves closer to me on the couch and glance down at it. I like her proximity. A lot!

We look over the soft limits, and what is agreeable for her, most of which we’ve done already. When she looks at the list, she closes her eyes as if she’s disgusted with what we are looking at.

“No fisting of any kind!” she says firmly.

“Okay,” I acquiesce, “anything else you object to?”

“I’m not too keen on anal intercourse either. It doesn’t float my boat,” she says. Oh no, you don’t baby! Not with what you got!

“I will agree with the fisting,” I say, “but I would really, really love to claim your round rosy ass Anastasia. But, we need to wait for that anyway. Because, you can’t just dive into that without proper training.” I say.

“Training? What for?” She asks.

“Oh baby, it needs careful preparation. Anal intercourse can be very pleasurable, trust me. But, if you decide you don’t like it after we try, we don’t have to do it again,” I smile at her.

She narrows her gaze if she doubts that it could be fun. “Have you tried that before?” she asks.

“Yes,” I respond. She gasps.

"With a man?" she asks.

"No. I've never had sex with a man. It's not my scene," I respond to her truthfully. She seems a little relieved.

“With your...” she pauses with dislike, “Mrs. Robinson?” she asks. I look at her, and see the jealousy behind her eyes.

“Yes,” I say, but move on. “Alright, the orals,” I smile. “I remember you got an A on that,” I say, she flushes. Drains her champagne as if it will provide her the courage she’s seeking to get through this discussion. She might need more of the courage, if we’re ever going to get through.

“More champagne?” I ask.

“Yes, please,” she says extending her cup.

We go down the list of sex toys. When she sees Butt plug on the list, her eyes go wide and she scrunches up her nose as if she smelled something foul.

“Butt plug? Does it do what it says?” she asks with distaste.

“Yes. Same thing goes for this as the anal intercourse. Requires training,” I say. She looks at the list.

Is the use of sex toys acceptable to the Submissive?

      Vibrators

      Dildos

      Butt Plugs

       Other

She looks up to me and asks, “What does ‘other’ entail?” she asks.

“Beads, eggs... that sort of stuff.”

“Eggs? What do you mean eggs?” she asks anxious.

“Not what you think. They’re not real eggs,” I say laughing. Her ignorance is adorable.

“I’m very glad you find me funny,” she says feeling hurt. That stops me in my tracks, and I stop laughing, trying to keep humor out of my face, but I’m quick to apologize for my transgression. The last thing I intend to do is to hurt her feelings, “I apologize Miss Steele,” I look at her. She still looks hurt. I gaze at her, “I really am sorry Anastasia,” I say willing her to believe me. She stares back at me.

“Do you have any problems with toys?”

“No!” she snaps.

“Anastasia,” I coax her. “I really, truly am sorry. Please believe me. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I have never had this conversation in so much detail with anyone before. It’s only because you’re very inexperienced. I’m sorry... alright?” This time my face is sincere and contrite. I do mean it. Her face warms up with my sincerity. Then we move onto the topic of bondage. She has already set suspension as her hard limit. Since she will be with me only short periods of time, there is no need to try things that will take a long time to set up. She looks in the list of bondage. Her eyes narrow when she notices an item on the list and asks.

“Please don’t laugh at me, but what’s a spreader bar?” I don’t like to be told twice. I’ve already sincerely apologized to her, why does she doubt me? I don’t like to be doubted.

“Anastasia, I’ve already apologized to you-twice. I promise not to laugh.” I stare at her. “Please don’t make me do it again,” I say with warning in my glare. She visibly shrinks back from my glare, with her look that says ‘bossy.’

“The spreader bar is used to cuff the ankles and/or wrists. They’re actually fun,” I say. She looks doubtful, but takes my word for it.

“Alright...” she says, “about gagging me...The gagging element. I don’t think I want that. I think I’d suffocate,” she says hitching my breath. I know about that first hand.

“I too would be worried about that. I don’t want to suffocate you,” I say.

“How does one use safeword, if you’re gagged anyway?” This makes me pause. I don’t ever want to go so far that she would feel the need to safeword me.

“First off Anastasia, I hope that you never have to use safewords. But once someone is gagged, hand signals are used for safewords,” I say to her. She blinks at my casualness.

“I’m still nervous about gagging,” she says with distaste.

“Alright.” I say, “I’ll keep that in mind and make a note of it.” Then she looks up at me with light bulb going up on her head so brightly it’s all over her face.

“Do you like tying your submissives up so they can’t touch you?” She pegged me square. I look at her surprised, my eyes widening.

“That’s one of the reasons,” I say quietly.

“Is this the reason why you tied my hands?”

“Yes.” I say, falling silent.

“You don’t like talking about it,” she observes.

“No, I don’t. Would you like another drink? It’s making you brave, and I need to know how you feel about pain.”

Her eyes widen. I refill her teacup, and she takes a sip.

“How do you feel about receiving pain?” I ask looking at her expectantly. All of a sudden she gets shy, and in goes her lip into the captivity of her teeth. “You’re biting your lip,” I remind her darkly. She releases her lip immediately, and flushes looking down at her hands.

“Let me ask you this: Were you physically punished as a child?”

“No,” she responds.

“I see,” I say, “so, in other words, you have no sphere of reference at all?”

“No,” she responds. My gaze softens.

“It’s not as bad as you think. Your imagination is your worst enemy in this,” I whisper.

“Do you have to do it?” she asks.

"Yes," I respond firmly.

“Why?” she retorts.

It's because I'm a fucked up son of bitch, I think to myself. “It all goes with the territory Anastasia. It’s what I do. I can see you’re nervous about it. Let’s go over the methods,” I say. When she looks at the list, her eyes widen and her breath catches.

      Spanking

      Paddling

      Whipping

      Caning

      Biting

      Nipple clamps

      Genital clamps

      Ice

      Hot wax

      Other types/methods of pain

She blanches once she goes through the items on the list.

“You decided against the genital clamps which is fine. Caning hurts the most,” I say. She goes white as sheet.
“We can work up to that,” I say.

“Or," she drawls on, "not do it at all,” she whispers.

No, no.. I have to have this. I have to have the pain aspect. It feeds the fucked up monster inside me. “Baby, this is part of the deal, but we’ll work up to all of this. I won’t push you too far Anastasia,” I say.

“This punishment thing is what worries me the most,” she says in a small voice. I’m glad she told me that, because, we can work up to certain punishments, or leave it off for the time being.

“Well, I’m glad you told me. We’ll keep the caning off the list for the time being. As you get more comfortable with this, we’ll increase the intensity, but start slow,” I say trying to appease her worry.

She swallows, looking skeptical. I lean forward and kiss her on the lips.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I say. The only response she could muster is a shrug.

“There’s one more thing I want to talk about, and then I’m taking you to bed,” I say my gaze intense.

“The bed?” she asks blinking rapidly, her face flushing.

“Come on Anastasia, all the stuff we’ve been talking through here makes me want to fuck you into next week right now. It must be having some effect on you, as well,” and she starts squirming in her seat which pleases me immensely. (←Tonight by Enrique Iglesias) 

“See?” I say, “Besides, there’s something I’d like to try.”

“Something painful?” she asks.

“No. Stop seeing pain everywhere. It’s mainly pleasure. Have I hurt you yet?” She flushes.

“No,” she says.

Here’s the time I want to make my compromise, my concession... for Anastasia.

“Well then. Look, earlier today, at the school, you were talking about wanting more,” I say pausing. I’ve never done this before. Never conceded. Do I want to this now? She’s half anxious looking at me. I make my decision. I clasp her hands, and look into her eyes.

“Outside of the time you’re my sub, perhaps we could try...” I say, unsure all of a sudden as it’s something I’ve never done before. “I don’t know if it will work. I don’t know how to separate everything. It may not work but I’m willing to try. Maybe one night a week. I don’t know,” I breathe out.

The shock on her face finally renders her speechless for once. I take advantage of her silence, and dropped mouth, and add, “I have one condition,” looking at her stunned expression warily.

“What?” she breathes, anxious to accept anything.

“You graciously accept my graduation present to you.”

“Oh,” she responds, her face falls. I stare down at her, trying to gauge her reaction. I extend my hand to her and murmur, “Come,” rising up, and taking her along with me. I take my jacket off and drape it over her shoulders. We walk outside. I’m anxious to see her reaction when she sees her two door compact Audi.

“It’s for you. Happy graduation,” I murmur, pulling her into my arms and kissing her hair. I pull back and look at her face. A lot of emotions cross through it. Happy, shocked, angry, desperate, confused... She’s overthinking again. I take her hand in mine and lead her down the path towards her brand new safe vehicle.

“Anastasia, your Beetle was old, and quite frankly dangerous. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you when it is so easy for me to make that right.”

I want her to be happy. Is it too much to ask? I want to sweep her off her feet... Why does she want to deny me that? I look at her, but she gets shy, her head goes down, then turns it to the red Audi.

“I mentioned it to your stepfather. He was all for it,” I murmur. She turns to me in horror, glaring at me.

“You mentioned it to Ray? How could you?”  All of a sudden, she’s so angry; she can barely utter the words. She looks mortified. She turns to glare at me.

“It’s a gift Anastasia. Can’t you just say thank you?” I say exasperated.

“But Christian, you know it’s too much!”

“Not to me it isn’t. There’s hardly a price tag for my piece of mind,” I say.

She frowns at me, at a loss of what to say. She turns to the car, and then turns to me, and says, “I’m happy for you to loan this car to me, like the laptop.” It’s so damn hard to get her to accept anything! I sigh heavily. “Okay. On loan. Indefinitely,” I say warily to her.

“No, not indefinitely, but for now. Thank you,” she says making me frown. Then she does something unexpected and extremely sweet. She reaches up, and kisses me briefly on the cheek and says, “Thank you for the car, sir.” With this one gesture, she makes me drop all my guards, and fires up my passion like a rocket. I grab her suddenly, and yank her up against my body, and one hand holding her back, the other fisting in her hair, I pull her in.

“You are one challenging woman Ana Steele!” I say and kiss her with all my pent up passion, forcing her lips apart with my tongue, taking no prisoners. Her passion is ready to rival mine, and she returns my kiss with all her passion, pushing herself into me. I’m ready to combust, and ready to take her right here in the parking lot of her apartment complex.

“Anastasia, it’s taking all my self-control not to fuck you on the hood of this car right now, just to show you that you are mine, and if I want to buy you a fucking car, I’ll buy you a fucking car!” I growl. “Now, let’s get inside and get naked,” and plant a rough kiss on her lips. My anger is transforming, and manifesting itself into this raw sexual energy.

I grab her hand, and practically drag her back to her apartment, make my way straight into her bedroom with Anastasia in tow. I have done enough waiting all these days, and I’m ready to claim what’s mine once and for all. I switch the table lamp on.  I turn, stop in my tracks and stare at her for a moment.

“Please don’t be angry with me,” she whispers with her baby gaze. Does she have any idea what kind of tornado her gaze causes in me? I give her my passive gaze under which I can hide all emotions. My eyes are hot and cold. I say nothing. I’m barely containing myself from pouncing on her right now.

“I’m really sorry about the car and the books,” she says looking away. I’m still silent, still fighting my emotions inside. “It’s just that you scare me when you’re angry,” she breathes finally looking at me.

I don’t want her to be scared of me. I close my eyes to find my center, shake my head as if to shake away emotional cloud in my head. When I finally open my eyes, I see her with fractionally clear head, and that softens my gaze. I take a deep breath and swallow. She’s irresistible right now, and I want focus on her, and not on the anger I’m feeling.

“Turn around,” I whisper. “I want to get you out of that dress.” (← She's so High by Tal Bachman)

Finally one obedient move from her! She turns around without saying anything. I move towards her, scoop her hair off her back and place it on her right side of her shoulder. I can hear her heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird trying to escape her chest. I place my index finger at the nape of her neck, and slowly and desirously drag my finger down, my fingernail grazing down on her back. I love this body! I love the way it looks in this dress.

“I like this dress,” I murmur. “I like to see you flawless skin.”

As my finger reaches the back of her halter dress halfway down to her spine, I hook my finger beneath the top; pull her close to my body making her step back against me. She’s flush against me. I lean down, and inhale her hair.

“You smell divine, Anastasia. So sweet,” I say as I skim my nose down past her ear down to her neck, and shoulder while trailing soft, light, sensual kisses. Her breathing becomes shallow and quick, her body full of expectation. My fingers locate the zipper of her dress, and achingly slow, I ease it down while my lips kissing and licking, and sucking my way across her shoulder. She’s so desirous; she keeps squirming under my touch languidly.

“You. Baby. Are. Going. To. Have. To. Learn. To. Keep. Still.” I whisper as I kiss around her nape. I can take all I can with the dress and thug and pull at the fastening of its halter neck, and her dress drops down and pools her feet.  No bra? Oh. God!

“No bra Miss Steele? I approve!” I say. My hands reach around and cup her breasts, and touch her nipples which pucker with the contact of my fingers. I lean in and murmur against her neck.

“Lift your arms up, and put them around my head." She obeys, and her breasts are raised and push into my hands, nipples hard. Her fingers weave into my hair, and gently tug it meanwhile rolling her head to one side giving me access to her neck. It’s so fucking hot!

“Mmm...” I murmur behind her ear, and start extending her nipples while her fingers mirror my actions inside my hair. She’s getting too hot to contain.

“Shall I make you come this way?” I whisper to which she arches her back in approval.

“You like this, don’t you Miss Steele?”

“Mmm..” she says.

“Tell me,” I say continuing my sensuous torture, pulling her nipples gently.

“Yes,” she breathes.

Time to educate her, “Yes, what?” I ask.

“Yes, Sir,” she responds.

“Good girl,” I say pinching her hard making her convulse with a jolt of pleasure/pain leaving her gasping. My erection is hard and pushing into her. She moans even louder while pulling my hair harder.

“I don’t think you’re ready to come yet,” I whisper, and my hands slow and still. I bit her earlobe, tugging at it. “Besides, you have displeased me,” I say. “Perhaps, I won’t let you come after all.”

My fingers return to pulling, twisting and kneading her nipples. She grinds herself against my erection moving side to side. Her desire for me makes me grin. She’s always hot for me.

My hands move down to her hips. I hook my fingers into her panties in the back stretching them, and my finger rips through the material shredding them. I toss them in front of her so she can see. My hand moves down to her sweet sex, and from behind I insert my finger.

“Oh, yes. My sweet girl is all ready,” I breathe whirling her around so she’s facing me. She’s making me so damn hot, my breathing also quickens. (←The Way You Make me Feel by MJ and Britney Spears) I put my finger into my mouth to taste her. “You taste so fine, Miss Steele,” I say sighing.

“Now, undress me,” I command her quietly, staring down at her, my eyes hooded. She looks down at her high heeled pumps. Not knowing how to go about it.

“You can do it,” I encourage her softly. She blinks fast, not knowing where to start. Her hands reach to my t-shirt, but I hold them and shake my head, slyly smiling at her.

“No, no...” I say shaking my head, grinning. “Not the t-shirt, you may need to touch me for what I have planned,” I say excited. I take one of her hands and place it against my erection.

“This is the effect you have on me, Miss Steele,” I say. She, in response gasps, and flexes her fingers around my erection.

“I want to be inside you. Take my jeans off. You’re in charge.” I say. Her jaw drops in response.

“What are you going to do to me?” I tease.

She puts up a brave face on, and pushes me onto the bed, making me laugh as I fall down. She gazes down at me as if she’s won an important battle. She yanks one of my shoes off then my socks, but her excitement, and her coordination issues making her a little clumsy, and that much hotter. She repeats the process on the other foot. I am full of desire for her to the brim. I finally got her to accept me! I feel victorious. She crawls up on the bed with on hands and knees, her breasts are in close proximity and she sits astride me to undo my jeans. She slides her fingers under my waistband. Her fingers graze my pubic hair. Her touch not only excites me, but also gives me a heavenly relaxation. A paradox. I close my eyes, and flex my hips for her touch.

“You’ll have to learn to keep still Mr. Grey,” she chides me, tugging the hair under the waistband. Her chiding hitches my breath, and I grin at her.

“Yes, Miss Steele,” I murmur, my eyes are ember with passion for her. This is the longest I can hold; this waiting is killing me, I have to have her. Otherwise I’ll explode! “In my pocket, condom,” I breathe.

She puts her hand into my pocket slowly, searching, moving around...slowly. And her touch creates a peak of ecstasy. I involuntarily open my mouth in pleasure. She finally fishes out both condom packets, and lays them on my hip. Her fingers eagerly reach my waistband’s button, slowly, fumbling. I have the same reaction on her as she has on me.

“You are so eager, Miss Steele,” I murmur, happy to know. She tugs my zipper down. She tries to yank my pants down, but since my butt is firmly on the bed, she’s unable to do it. She bites her lip in frustration raising my sexual desire several notches. She frowns. She leans over, her breasts spilling right in direct sight of my vision while her captive lip is getting tortured by her teeth right before my eyes! I just have had all I can take!

“I can’t keep still if you’re going to bite that lip,” I warn darkly, then arch my pelvis off the bed, so she can tug it off which she does. Off go the pants and the boxers freeing my erect length. I kick the clothes to the floor.

She looks like a kid on Christmas morning with her favorite presents before her. I am beyond pleased with her reaction.

“Now what are you going to do?" I breathe - all desire, all salacity. She reaches up, and touches me. Her touch raises our regular jolt electricity many folds over. My mouth takes an O shape. She leans forward, her hair cascading, and she starts sucking. Hard! I close my eyes with pleasure.

“Christ, Ana, steady,” I groan. I’m ready to come, and I don’t want to come. I want to fuck her!

“Stop, Ana, stop. I don’t want to come.” I say. She looks disappointed somehow.

“Baby, your innocence and enthusiasm is very disarming,” I gasp. “You, on top... that’s what we need to do,” I say. I hand her one of the condoms, “here, put this on.”

She rips the packet, and holds it in her hand.

“Pinch the top, and roll it down. You don’t wanna get air in the end of that sucker,” I say panting. She concentrates like a student who is working on a new project for the first time, and carefully, and slowly rolls it down, killing me in the process. I’m going to explode just by looking at her.

“Christ, Anastasia, you’re killing me here,” I groan. She looks at my length and she too is aroused, licking her lips involuntarily.

“Now,” I say murmuring, “I want to be buried inside you.” She stares down at me, daunted, and then I sit up suddenly, so we are nose to nose.

“Like this,” I say snaking my hands behind her gorgeous hips, lifting her slightly, I position myself beneath her, and very slowly I ease her on my length.

She groans as my length fills her inside. Her mouth opens in surprise at the sweet agonizing feeling my full length is providing her with. “Oh... please,” she whispers with pleasure.

“That’s right, baby, feel me, all of me,” I growl, closing my eyes. I push myself all the way in, sheathed to the hilt, and I hold her in place for a while to get the feeling of her. To feel my claim, my possession, my woman on top of me! “She’s mine!” says my inner god.

“It’s deep this way,” I murmur. I flex and gyrate my hips in the same rhythmic motion, and she groans with pleasure.

“Again,” she whispers, making me grin. We aim to please, baby...

She moans in pleasure even louder and throws her head back, her beautiful hair tumbling down. I slowly sink back onto the bed.

“Now, you move, Anastasia, up and down, how you want,” I say, “Take my hand,” I say breathy, my voice hoarse. She clasps my hands, and we are connected on many points. She gently pushes off me and back down. Repeatedly. My eyes are burning in wild anticipation. My breathing ragged, as is hers. As she comes down I lift my pelvis and bounce her back up, we create our own rhythm. Up, down, up, down... over and over again. She’s panting hard, and I’m about to explode. Our eyes lock, we gaze into each other while our bodies have their tango. I have wonder in my eyes. She has awakened something in me I didn’t know I had. It's an absolute realization: I can’t do without her! She’s mine, and right now, she’s claiming me, fucking me, loving me. I’ve never been loved before, except by her. The thought of this brings my pleasure to the meniscus and I grab her hips, closing my eyes, tipping my head back, my jaw strained, I come quietly with the awe and full of unknown emotions; I can’t even make a sound with these strange feelings coming over me.

She collapses on my chest, overwhelmed. We crossed the line between love making and fucking. It’s all one grey area now. Can I ever get back from it? Do, I even want to get back from it? In that place, she’s mine, and I am hers. (← I'm Yours by Jason Mraz)

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