CHAPTER XVII ← Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

A VISIT TO THE RED ROOM OF PAIN

CHAPTER XVII

Sunlight from my floor to ceiling windows find me bright and early. My hand automatically rolls next to me to pull Anastasia into my arms, finding the space empty. When I realize she is in her own apartment, I groan, then roll over and check the time. It’s 6:18 a.m.

Even the thought of Anastasia gives me an erection. I roll my head back and groan again. A hard workout might be able to hold my pent-up sexual energy in check and prevent me from becoming the unbearable monster that is wound up tighter than a monkey in a piñata until Sunday.

I put my workout sweats on and go down to the gym. As if on cue Taylor joins me.

“Morning sir,” he says wearily seeing my wound up demeanor he’s become very familiar with in the recent weeks. I nod in response.

“How was the drive back?”

“Quiet,” he says, than realizing the double meaning of his words, he adds, “it was night time, not much traffic.”

I give him an involuntary smile.
****

Two hours later I’m back in my penthouse having completed eight miles of run, lifted weights, and utilized the punching bag with Taylor holding it in place. After I get to my penthouse, I take my shower, and get dressed. It’ll be a long day with having to pick my sister up from the airport which is something I’m looking forward to since I haven’t seen her in a long time. Then we’ll be having family dinner at my parents’ house. Mrs. Jones has my breakfast ready on the breakfast bar. Taylor comes out after I’m done with my breakfast, and wants to be briefed for the day’s activities.

I ask him to have a bottle of Bollinger Grande Année Rosé 1999, and a helicopter balloon resembling Charlie Tango to be sent over to Miss Steele and Miss Kavanagh’s condo. He’s taking a note and pauses all for two seconds when I mention the helicopter balloon but says nothing.

“Do you wish to add a note sir?”

“Yes. Have it read, ‘Ladies, Good luck in your new home, Christian Grey’,” I say.

“Would that be all sir?”

“Yes, until we’re ready to pick Mia at the airport.”

The day goes through very quickly until the time for Mia to be picked up at the airport. I am in my gray pants and white linen shirt. I put my jacket on since my parents like us to be dressed for dinner properly. Taylor drives me to the VIP access at the Sea-Tac Airport. We’re just on time. I barely have time to get one martini, Taylor walks back in with Mia who runs to me with open arms and jumps. We’re both grinning. I have missed my sister... that is until she starts talking non-stop.

She punches my arm, making me say “ow! What was that for?”

“Why do I have to hear that you have a gorgeous girlfriend from mom - and not a word from you? Were you even planning on telling me?” she asks, I see Taylor going crimson from my peripheral vision.

“I would have eventually told you, but we are still very new,” I say by the way of explaining.

“Well, you don’t hide such a thing like that! You know we all suspected you were gay!” she gushes. My sister has no mental filters! She doesn’t pay attention where she say inappropriate things and doesn’t care who hears it. I see Taylor's lip quirk up only the slightest bit. He normally has very good control, but when it comes to Mia, no one knows what she’s going to say. I sigh exasperated. The drive to my parents’ house is full of Mia’s chatter. She wants to know what Anastasia looks like, what she does, what her tastes are.

“How old is she?” she asks.

“Twenty-one.” I reply. She beams and gushes the same way Elliot would have if the Mariners won the World Series. It never happened, though once in 1995 it came close, but never before, or since.   She gushes and squeals in delight as if Anastasia walks on water which of course she doesn’t. She’s not even obedient!

“She’s my age! Oh Christian! I think Anastasia and I will be the best of friends!” she says making me frown. What is it with Anastasia that people fall in love with her even without meeting her? She’s like the black magic woman. (← Black Magic Woman by Santana)

We couldn’t get to my parents’ house soon enough just to save myself from Mia’s non-stop chatter. My parents meet us at the door, and they both hug Mia at the same time. We all walk into the living room. My dad makes his famous martinis handing us each a glass. When we’re sitting together and start talking about Paris, Elliot arrives. Mia runs to him, and he holds her up spinning “little sister! I’ve missed you so much!” he says.

“Oh, Elliot, I’ve missed you too!” gushes Mia with enthusiasm.

He shakes my dad’s hand, and gives mom a hug. He comes to shake my hand, and with a wicked grin, “your girlfriend Ana says hi!” he says to me. I narrow my eyes on him, but he ignores me.

Mia gushes...again.

“You’ve met her?” and she comes and punches me in the arm again.

“Jerk! Why am I the only one who never heard of her until mom told me, or met her?” she scolds me.

“For one thing,” I say, “you were living in Paris, until about an hour ago. Elliot met her because he goes out with Anastasia’s roommate,” I say giving him a measured look.

“Oh, that reminds me,” my mother says.

“Would you both invite your girlfriends to the dinner we’re having in honor of Mia’s return tomorrow? That way we can all meet both of them,” she says smiling. “Anastasia is such a sweet girl. I’m sure you’ll all love her!” she says to the family in general.

“Yes, she is,” says Elliot with a little extra enthusiasm, grinning, making me jealous. I frown.

“I’m also looking forward to meeting Kate. She sounds like such a beautiful and loving girl,” she adds for Elliot’s benefit. Loving? I don’t know where she got that idea, but ‘ball-crusher’ should be her actual middle name. My frown must have remained on my face, because Elliot teases me again.

“It’s like shooting fish in a barrel with you bro! You’re so in love with her!” he says, making all heads turn to me.

“We’ve only been going out for a short while. She’s just too captivating, adorable. I like her a lot, but I’m not in love,” I say through barely contained gritted teeth, defensively.

My mother chides Elliot, “Elliot, stop teasing your brother. Why shouldn’t he be in love with her? She’s an adorable girl,” she says.

Mia narrows her eyes. She’s sure to test something tomorrow. I’ll have to be on the watch.

After dinner, I spend time with my family talking about our childhood, the Mariners, and business. As the time wears on, I slowly get up and tell my family that I have a busy schedule tomorrow, so I have to leave. Mia gives me a big hug, and mom kisses me on the cheek, while my dad and Elliot shake hands.

I love my family, but I can only take small doses of Mia and Elliot combination with teasing and scrutiny now that they know I have Anastasia in my life. They’ll get an eyeful of Anastasia tomorrow.

As Taylor drives me home, I go through my e-mails. There’s one from Elena asking me to meet her for lunch or dinner next week. I think that would be good for us. I can tell her about Anastasia. I wonder what she would think of her. The thought makes me smile. She’s unlike any of the girls I’ve had as my subs before. I write her back telling her I could meet her after I confirm my schedule with Andrea, and I'd e-mail her back on that.

We get to Escala, and it’s quite late. I read a few business reports, and go to bed anxious for Sunday to come.

**

I wake up early as usual to go to workout. As soon as my workout is over, I come and take my shower and get dressed. As Mrs. Jones fixing my breakfast, I type a message for Anastasia.

__________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: My Life in Numbers
Date: May 29 2011 08:04
To: Anastasia Steele

If you drive you’ll need this access code for the underground garage at Escala: 146963. Park in bay 5 – it’s one of mine. Code for the elevator: 1880.

Christian Grey CEO,
Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

__________________________________________

I hit send, and head to the kitchen bar stool to eat my breakfast and drink my coffee. My Blackberry buzzes as I take a bite of my eggs. It’s from Anastasia.

__________________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: An excellent Vintage
Date: May 29 2011 08:07
To: Christian Grey

Yes, Sir. Understood. Thank you for the champagne and the blow-up Charlie Tango, which is now tied to my bed.

Ana
__________________________________________

How does she do that? She can interest and captivate me with simple words. I’m now jealous of an inanimate object! God almighty! What’s happening to me?

__________________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Envy
Date: May 29 2011 08:10
To: Anastasia Steele

You’re welcome. Don’t be late.

Lucky Charlie Tango.

Christian Grey CEO,
Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

__________________________________________

I am in my study going over the business proposals Andrea had drafted, but I find myself unable to focus. Anastasia is coming today, and I realize I like her immensely. That also brings the fact that she’s all too new to my dark world. Is this really for her? Am I being unfair to her by introducing her to something dark like this? It’s tormenting me inside. I know she gets hurt easily. Like when I didn’t stay over at her place. I find myself breaking my own rules right and left. Do I want to keep breaking my own rules? I like my rules! It brings order out of chaos. But...but, when it comes to Anastasia, she knows no rules. She just walks through all my walls I’ve painstakingly built over the years.

But then, I want to seize the moment...with her. (← Dust in the Wind by Kansas)

She means a lot to me. I don’t want to see her hurt. Friday night, seeing her all torn apart, crying, and I frigging had no idea! She’s too reticent, and I’m too fucked up! I walk around my study pacing, running both my hands through my hair in exasperation. I desperately want to give her the chance to decide, and...and perhaps say ‘no’ to our arrangement. She gets hurt easily, and I’m too stuck on my rules. But in the other hand, the time to not to compromise has already passed, and I am her boyfriend...for all intents and purposes. When I think of that title, my heart constricts and floods of some unknown emotions course through my entire body. I’m divided between what I know, what is familiar, and what’s unknown, but what I fervently desire.

What I want is her: that’s plain and simple. But I also have this desire to protect her, care for her...and oddly love her in every sense of the word. Could I find a middle ground? Would she want to be in that middle ground with me?

I make my resolution: No matter how hard it is, I’ll give her the chance to decide. Now that she knows what I’m about. I’ll let her decide... I don’t know if I could take it if she decided against it, but I’ll have to give her the chance. She’s innocent like a child. (←Sweet Child ‘O Mine by Guns N Roses)

I’m killing myself here. What if she says, she wants nothing to do with my lifestyle? Can I even handle that? Can I handle it if she goes out with that photographer? I can’t even handle the mention of José’s name... I don’t think I can handle him holding her, kissing her, fucking her! Damn! I want to punch something! I check the time. It’s passed 11:00 a.m. I buzz Taylor’s office.
"Taylor!”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need to workout. Let’s go!” he pauses for three seconds. Another shocked expression from Taylor, and says, “I’ll be there in four minutes sir.”

This will give me time to get back in my sweats. I have to clear my head. Within six minutes flat, Taylor and I are back at the gym. I warm up, and head straight to the punching bag, and Taylor’s eyes widen just a tiny bit, and he shakes his head inconspicuously but I notice. He knows why I’m edgy. He wants to say something to me, but something in my demeanor stops him from saying anything.

“I’ll hold, you punch sir,” he says. I nod. Even though Claude Bastille isn’t here, I still want to kick someone’s butt. Taylor’s the it man right now for the job.

Taylor knows it’s coming, and it’s actually something he is looking forward to it. He’s been trained in martial arts and hand to hand combat; so this is something he’s actually good at.
"Alright sir! Lets have at it!" he says smiling. I grin back at him. We circle each other wearily. He makes the first attack, and he’s actually lethal, but I’ve learned a few tricks from Bastille. I counter attack him. Others who are working out, stop their workout, and watch our martial arts demonstration. In the next hour, he kicks my butt twice to the floor, and I kick his once. At the end of the hour, I feel a lot better; it’s not as good as kicking the photographer’s ass, however... it’ll make do. I’m still worried that Anastasia might just say no to our arrangement. Neverthless, I’ll give her the chance to refuse me today. I fucking like her too much, and the feeling of wanting to protect her supersedes the feeling of proprietorship; and don’t assume that part is small... It’s greater than anything I ever wanted to have, own, or possess. I do want to possess her, body and soul as she has possessed me. I’m putty in her hands!

When Taylor and I take our last bow on the mat, we realize that the crowd is applauding us, an unexpected bonus; as we gave our all. We’re both out of breath, but I'm so much more relaxed, and both of us are grinning. We shake hands. Taylor says “good fight sir. You gave a run for my money!”

“Right back at you Taylor.”

When I get back to my penthouse, I take another shower, and put my white linen shirt on top of my jeans. Now I can wait for Miss Steele a little more composed and relaxed. I read the Sunday papers of Wall Street Journal, NY Times, LA Times, and Seattle Times. As I’m immersed in my reading, I notice a section on Page 8 of Seattle Times which hitches my breath. It’s another first for me. There is a picture of Anastasia and I during her graduation. I save the page to show it to her later.

I hear the elevator to my suite ding open. Less than a minute later Taylor walks in with Anastasia into the great room as I’m reading the financial section of WSJ. I glance up, and see her in that purple dress I wanted to peel off of her. My breath hitches when I see her like that. She is so captivating; I find myself standing up and walking towards her like an automaton.

Feeling a twinkle of excitement in my eyes, I stroll towards her without peeling my gaze off of her. I feel too excited to keep a smile off of my face. Our eyes remain locked, and everything else disappears. She stands immobilized at the entrance of the room. The charge between us is evident and is getting bigger as I close the distance between us.  

I feel myself pulled to her, like the gravity of the sun, and I’m a helpless planet orbiting it. I stop right before her.  

“Hmm… that dress,” I murmur approvingly as I gaze down at her with appreciation. I’m incredibly glad that she’s here.  

“Welcome back, Miss Steele,” I whisper and, clasping her chin, I lean down and place a gentle light kiss on her soft luscious lips. As soon as our lips touch the pulse between us gets stronger, and an electric jolt goes through my body as I feel the same effects on her because her breath hitches.  

“Hi,” she whispers flushing. I just love that color on her. So innocent, incredibly alluring, and beyond hot turning me on.  

“You’re on time. I like punctual. Come.” I take her hand and lead her to the couch.  

“I wanted to show you something,” I say as we sit. I hand her the Seattle Times. The paper is open to page eight with a picture of the two of us. I’m like a young boy again, excited about something that relates to both of us, almost affirming us being a couple. She looks at it; her eyes go wide surprised. She checks the caption.

It reads:

Christian Grey and friend at the graduation ceremony at WSU Vancouver. It makes her laugh.

“So I’m your ‘friend’ now,” she teases. (← You're in My Heart by Rod Stewart)

“So it would appear. And it’s in the newspaper, so it must be true.” I smirk. I sit beside her, turning my entire body whole toward her, tucking one of my legs under the other. Reaching over, I tuck her hair behind her ear with my index finger. She closes her eyes with my touch as if its awakened from a long sleep, alive, all sensation and feeling, waiting and needful. I feel the same way with our connection. I’m full of desire for her.

“So, Anastasia, you have a much better idea of what I’m about since you were last here.”  

“Yes,” she whispers with curiosity in her gaze.

“And yet you’ve returned,” I say with wonder. I half expected that she wouldn’t come. She nods shyly making my eyes blaze with desire for her knowing she wants me. There is nothing hotter than a woman you desire who wants you just as strongly. I shake my head struggling to bring out the words I have practiced all morning long. I have to give her the chance to say no, to walk away... The anxiety returns as I try to control the feeling. Maybe it can wait a little longer.

“Have you eaten?” I ask.

“No,” she answers.

“Are you hungry?” I ask trying not to look annoyed.

“Not for food,” she whispers, catching me completely unawares making my nostrils flare slightly in reaction to her passion. The woman’s after my own heart, damn it! This is going to make it that much harder to get out what I had planned to say all morning. I lean forward and whisper in her ear. “You are as eager as ever, Miss Steele, and just to let you into a little secret, so am I. But Dr. Greene is due here shortly.” I sit up.

“I wish you’d eat,” I chide her mildly. She looks as if she just remembered the doctor is coming. 

“What can you tell me about Dr. Greene?” she asks.

“She’s the best OBGYN in Seattle. What more can I say?” I shrug.

“I thought I was seeing your doctor, and don’t tell me you’re really a woman, because I won’t believe you.” I know she’s teasing, but I give her a don’t-be-ridiculous look.

“I think it’s more appropriate that you see a specialist. Don’t you?” I say mildly. And of course I don’t want another man looking at her intimate parts when I’m forced to stay downstairs, and he’s upstairs touching her in places I want no other man to touch. She nods. I frown with the thought of it. In fact, I don’t even like a male fly to look at her, let alone a male human! I feel incredibly possessive towards her. I want her only to be mine. Just my hands, my lips, my manhood on her. No one else’s!

Oh! I just remembered. I have to invite her to my mother’s party for Mia. That’s another awkward situation for me, because, I’ve never taken a girl to my parents’ home. I feel like a school boy. Should I feel this strange about it?

“Anastasia, my mother would like you to come to dinner this evening. I believe Elliot is asking Kate, too. I don’t know how you feel about that. It will be odd for me to introduce you to my family.”

Her face falls with my last sentence. Oh, she misunderstood me. “Are you ashamed of me?” she says in a wounded voice.

“Of course not,” I say fervently.

“Why is it odd then?” she asks curiously.

“Because I’ve never done it before,” I say mildly. Then she drops the ball on me.

“Why are you allowed to roll your eyes, and I’m not?” I’m surprised, and look at her blinking.

“I wasn’t aware that I was,” I respond genuinely.  

“Neither am I, usually,” she snaps at me. I glare at her completely speechless. Just as I manage to gather my thought, Taylor appears at the doorway.

“Dr. Greene is here, sir,” he says. I nod.

“Show her up to Miss Steele’s room,” I direct him.

“Ready for some contraception?” I ask as I stand and hold out my hand to her.  

“You’re not going to come as well, are you?” she says gasping, and completely shocked making me laugh.

“I’d pay very good money to watch, believe me, Anastasia, but I don’t think the good doctor would approve.” She gives a sigh of relief taking my hand, and I pull her in to my arms and kiss her deeply and passionately. All her reactions take my breath away. My hand is in her hair holding her beautiful head, and I pull her against me, our foreheads against each other.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I whisper completely happy. “I can’t wait to get you naked.” 

Dr. Greene walks behind Taylor in to the room; her tall, blonde, and immaculate, dressed in a royal blue suit. Anastasia looks a little intimidated. Oh, this doctor has nothing over her. I don’t like blondes for one thing, and right now, I’m only into Anastasia, and no one else matters.  

Dr. Greene’s long hair is swept up in an elegant chignon. She appears to be in her early forties.  

“Mr. Grey.” She says shaking my hand.  

“Thank you for coming at such short notice,” I say.

“Thank you for making it worth my while, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele.” She smiles, her eyes cool and assessing. She shakes hands with Anastasia coolly assessing her and liking what she sees. It appears Anastasia finally likes her as well. They have an instant rapport. The good doctor gives me a pointed stare. Oh, she wants to get on with business. I was kind of hoping that she’d ignore my presence and start her examination. Damn! It’s awkward for a minute, but I take my cue.

“I’ll be downstairs,” I mutter leaving Anastasia’s bedroom.

I go to my living room, I put my iPod on the stereo’s cradle, and turn on my classical music and go back to reading my Sunday papers seated on my couch. I read for a while. But my mind constantly wonders to Anastasia. The idea of taking care of my woman relaxes me. I feel serene knowing that she’s here now, and in my care.  When I am contemplating that, Anastasia and Dr. Greene walks down from upstairs. I look up both of them, and smile warmly at Anastasia.

“Are you done?” I ask genuinely interested. I take my remote out and point it at the stereo beneath the fireplace that houses my iPod, and the aria fades but continues in the background. I stand and stroll towards Anastasia and the Doctor.

“Yes, Mr. Grey. Look after her; she’s a beautiful, bright young woman,” says Dr. Greene completely surprising me. I’m usually not easily taken aback. Anastasia even worked her magic on the no-nonsense doctor for her to give me an indirect warning like that.

“I fully intend to,” I mutter, bemused. Anastasia gazes at me shrugging; she looks embarrassed.

“I’ll send you my bill,” Dr. Greene says crisply as she shakes my hand.

“Good day, and good luck to you, Ana.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling, as she shake hands with Anastasia. What a bewitching woman I’ve got. She makes me proud at every turn.

Taylor comes out knowing from the monitor that Dr. Greene has walked through the foyer, ready to walk her to the elevator.

“How was that?” I ask.

“Fine, thank you. She said that I had to abstain from all sexual activity for the next four weeks,” says Anastasia dropping my jaw in complete shock. How? What? How do I manage without any sexual activity for four weeks when she’s within my reach? But then her face changes, and she starts grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Gotcha!” she says. Oh, baby, I can get you right back, and you know that. I narrow my eyes, and she immediately stops laughing. In fact, I give her one of my most forbidding looks. She looks confused and half scared, blood draining from her face. But, I don’t want her to be scared, and this time I can’t stop from grinning.

“Gotcha!” I say smirking. I grab her around her waist and pull her up against myself.

“You are incorrigible, Miss Steele,” I murmur, staring down into her beautiful blue eyes as I weave my fingers into her hair, holding her firmly in place. I kiss her, hard, and fervently as she clings to my arms for support. My erection is growing, as my desire for her, and I am ready to take her, but I intend to do that for a long time, so I need to feed her before we start doing anything else.

“As much as I’d like to take you here, now, you need to eat and so do I. I don’t want you passing out on me later,” I murmur against her luscious lips.

“Is that all you want me for – my body?” she whispers. Oh baby, I want you for more than that. Maybe at first it was the body, but, in the last few weeks, all has changed.

“That and your smart mouth,” I breathe. I kiss her again passionately, and then abruptly release her, taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen. She’s reeling behind me.

“What’s the music?” she asks about the aria playing in the background.

“Villa Lobos, anaria from Bachianas Brasileiras. Good, isn’t it?” I ask. (← Villa Lobos: Bachianas Brasileira n.5 – Anna Moffo)

“Yes,” she murmurs in total agreement. The breakfast bar is already laid for two. I take the chicken salad from the fridge that Mrs. Jones prepared earlier from the fridge.

“Chicken caesar salad okay with you?” I ask, and she looks relieved.  

“Yes, fine, thank you,” she says watching me move about the kitchen. I notice her contemplating again. Is she overthinking about something? She doesn’t look distressed. It looks like she has some pleasant thoughts, and I want to know what she’s thinking of suddenly.

 “What are you thinking?” I ask, pulling her from her reveries. She flushes which is a good sign. All her sexual thoughts make her flush like that I’ve discovered.

“I was just watching the way you move.” I raise an eyebrow, amused.

“And?” I say dryly, probing her for more information. She flushes some more. That good, huh? I think to myself.

“You’re very graceful,” she says shyly.

“Why thank you, Miss Steele,” I murmur sitting down beside her. I hold a bottle of wine and ask, “Chablis?”

“Please,” is her response.

“Help yourself to salad,” I say in a soft voice. My mind goes to the doctor’s visit. I’m curious to find out what method of birth control she opted.

“Tell me - what method did you opt for?” She looks a little thrown by my question. But then realizes my meaning.  

“Mini pill,” she says. I frown. She has to remember to take them every day at the same time which can be tedious.

“And will you remember to take it regularly, at the right time, every day?” I ask. Her smart mouth as usual takes charge.

 “I’m sure you’ll remind me,” she murmurs dryly making me amused.

“I’ll put an alarm on my calendar,” I say smirking.

“Eat,” I order softly. To my surprise, she cleans up her plate for the first time, and she does it before I do. Either she was famished, or too eager.

“Eager as ever, Miss Steele?” I ask smiling down at her empty plate. She looks at me from beneath her long lashes.

“Yes,” she whispers, completely catching me off guard making my breath hitch. Not another single word anyone uttered affected me as much as her single 'yes' does in this moment. This is the place I have to ask her. I have to give her the chance to say ‘No’ even though I don’t want to. Because if I don’t ask her now, I’ll never be able to. I gather all my willpower to give her that chance that I know she deserves. I stare down at her intently. The atmosphere between us slowly shift, evolve… charge. I know my gaze goes dark, in fact ember hot to smoldering and she’s locked and lost in it. I stand, closing the distance between us, and tug her off the bar stool into my arms where she belongs.

“Do you want to do this?” I breathe, looking down at her intently.

“I haven’t signed anything,” she says. And my mind goes, ‘fuck the paperwork!’ once again.

“I know – but I’m breaking all the rules these days.”

“Are you going to hit me?” she asks half scared.

“Yes, but it won’t be to hurt you. I don’t want to punish you right now. If you’d caught me yesterday evening, well, that would have been a different story,” I say honestly. But she’s taken aback, blanching.

 “Don’t let anyone try and convince you otherwise, Anastasia. One of the reasons people like me do this is because we either like to give or receive pain. It’s very simple. You don’t, so I spent a great deal of time yesterday and this morning thinking about that,” I tell her honestly. I pull her against me, and my already grown erection presses into her belly. I want her. I need her, I desire her in some, deep, basic, elemental level and I know she feels that way which is something neither one of us can’t begin to understand. The charge between us is ever-present.

“Did you reach any conclusions?” she whispers.

“No, and right now, I just want to tie you up and fuck you senseless. Are you ready for that?” I say smoldering.

“Yes,” she breathes, and I’m all in, and nothing and no one can stop me from being one with this woman.  

“Good. Come,” I say taking her hand, leaving the dirty dishes on the breakfast bar, and we head upstairs. My mind is reeling with excitement. I fucking want this woman so badly, it aches me inside. I open the door to my playroom, standing back for her to walk through, and once more she’s in my Red Room. She inhales the smell of leather, citrus, polish and dark wood, and whispers, “very sensual” barely audible.

My stance changes automatically when I’m in my playroom. It’s the stance of a dominant: it’s harder and meaner. I gaze down at her and my eyes are heated, lustful…hypnotic.  

“When you’re in here, you are completely mine,” I breathe, each word slow and measured. I want her to understand that I have complete control in this room more than any other place. It’s the place I exercise my dominance. I want her to understand that very well. There is no room for her smart mouth in here. It has to be me who is dominating in this particular place. Me, and me alone. I gaze at her willing her to understand my condition:  

“To do with as I see fit. Do you understand?” My gaze is so intense. She nods, her eyes wide, her face flushes as her heart thumps away speedily. Okay, then. Now the rules.  

“Take your shoes off,” I order softly. She swallows, and rather clumsily, nearly tripping on her own shoes, she takes them off. I bend and pick them up and relocate them beside the door.

“Good. Don’t hesitate when I ask you to do something. Now I’m going to peel you out of this dress. Something I’ve wanted to do for a few days, if I recall. I want you to be comfortable with your body, Anastasia. You have a beautiful body, and I like to look at it. It is a joy to behold. In fact, I could gaze at you all day, and I want you unembarrassed and unashamed of your nakedness. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes, what?” I lean over her, glaring.

“Yes, Sir,” she amends hesitantly.

“Do you mean that?” I snap.

“Yes, Sir,” she says more resolutely.

“Good. Lift your arms up over your head.” She does as instructed, and I reach down and grab the hem. I pull her dress up over her thighs, her hips, her belly, her breasts, her shoulders, and over her head. I stand back to examine her beauty and absentmindedly fold her dress, not taking my eyes off her like a hawk watching its prey. I place the now folded dress on the large chest beside the door. When she’s excited, in goes her delectable lip into the captivity of her teeth. I reach pull at her chin reminding her.

“You’re biting your lip,” I breathe. “You know what that does to me,” I add darkly.

“Turn around,” I order and she obeys immediately, without hesitation. I unclasp her bra and then taking both straps, I slowly and sensually pull them down her arms, while brushing her skin with my fingers and the tip of my thumbnails as I slide her bra off. The barely there touch awakens more senses than forceful ones because the body is completely alert, expecting, desiring, wanting, and ready to receive. I know my touch is sending shivers down her spine, waking every nerve ending in her body. The energy between us is tangible, palpitating, and thick. I stand behind her, so close that we can feel the heat radiating from each other, I’m warming her, and she’s warming me, heating me up all over. I pull her hair so it’s all hanging down her back.

I grasp a handful at her nape, and angle her head to one side. I run my nose down her exposed neck, inhaling all the way, then back up to her ear. I love the way she smells. Vanilla, outdoors, soap and my woman. Her arousal is also evident in her smell which brings up an intoxicating concoction of musk blended in her own natural scent. Her body responds to mine even if I don’t touch her at this proximity, and mine does the same thing. I’m full of carnal desire for her, but it’s beyond that. There is a part of me that wants to consume her, devour her, love her in a way no one ever has, or ever will. A deep down dark part of me wants to do things that will mark her as mine short of branding her. That’s how much I want and desire her.

“You smell as divine as ever, Anastasia,” I whisper as I place a soft kiss beneath her ear. She moans.

“Quiet,” I breathe. I want her to be silent here, completely at my beckoning call. Utterly obedient. “Don’t make a sound, “I whisper.

I pull her hair behind her head and start braiding it into one large braid which I note surprises her. I tie the end with a hair tie, and give it a tug so she’s forced back against me.

 “I like your hair braided in here,” I whisper. It’s easier to manage, because it doesn’t snag on different toys I have in this room, and of course it gives me a leverage point which I like. I release her hair and order her:  “Turn around.” She obey immediately, not knowing what’s coming next, her breathing shallow. When I look at her, there is desire, want, as well as fear mixed in her facial expression. She looks dazed, almost intoxicated; expectant.

“When I tell you to come in here, this is how you will dress. Just in your panties. Do you understand?” I ask firmly.

“Yes,” she responds. Already forgetting who the boss is?

“Yes, what?” I glower at her.

“Yes, Sir,” she responds, ever the fast learner making me suppress a smile.

“Good girl,” I say with heated passion.

“When I tell you to come in here, I expect you to kneel over there.” I point to a spot beside the door. I want her to start practicing.

“Do it now,” I order. She blinks for a minute trying to process what I just said, then turns, and rather clumsily kneel as she’s directed. I suppress another smile at her willingness and inability. Another indication showing me that she’s mine in more ways than one; not having performed any of that for another man.

“You can sit back on your heels,” I order to which she responds by sitting back.

“Place your hands and forearms flat on your thighs. Good. Now part your knees. Wider. Wider. Perfect. Look down at the floor,” I order to assume the submissive position. I walk over to her, and her eyes are just downcast only able to see my bare feet. Good. Pleased with the instruction, I reach down and grasp her braid again, then pull her head back so she’s looking up at me.

“Will you remember this position, Anastasia?”
“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Stay here, don’t move.” I leave the room while Anastasia is waiting on her knees. The thought of it makes me aroused. I go to my closet, and open one of the dressers. I take my clothes off, and put on my overly washed, soft, older and ripped jeans on commando leaving the top button open. I also take my new toy I’ve purchased solely for Miss Steele’s enjoyment. I walk back to my playroom knowing she’s there by the door, kneeling, and waiting for me. My arousal gets bigger. I take a deep breath and walk back into the room. I shut the door.  I hang a waffle robe for her to use later behind the door. Finding Anastasia in the position I’ve left her makes me beyond joyful.

 “Good girl, Anastasia. You look lovely like that. Well done. Stand up,” I say. She stands up while keeping her face down like she’s instructed.

“You may look at me,” I say softly. She peeks up at me as I stare back at her intently, assessing, but my eyes soften by the expression on her face which is one of awe and desire. She notices that I don’t have my shirt on. I can see the desire in her to want to touch me. Her eyes glide down on my torso slowly noticing the open top button of my jeans. She takes in a shuttering breath increasing my desire for her.

“I’m going to chain you now, Anastasia. Give me your right hand,” I say, and she obediently gives me her hand. I turn her hand palm up, and before she gets a chance to blink I swat the center of her palm with a riding crop which she now notices. I know it doesn’t hurt, but it is enough to awaken the senses.  

“How does that feel?” I ask her curiously. She blinks at me, confused, like my question didn’t register.

 “Answer me,” I order.

“Okay,” she says frowning.

“Don’t frown,” I command her. She blinks and tries to look impassive. The frown disappears from her face.

 “Did that hurt?” I ask.
“No,” she says surprised. “Actually it didn’t hurt at all, maybe a tiny sting; not bad.”

“This is not going to hurt. Do you understand?” I say.

“Yes,” she responds in an uncertain tone, questioning.  

“I mean it,” I say trying to convince her. Her breathing grows shallower in excitement and anticipation. I show her the crop. It’s brown plaited leather. Her eyes jerk up to meet mine, and they’re alight with fire and a trace of amusement.

“We aim to please, Miss Steele,” I murmur.

“Come.” I take her elbow and move her to beneath the grid. I reach up and take down the shackles with black leather cuffs.

“This grid is designed so the shackles move across the grid,” I point her. Her glance follows my extended hand, her eyes going wide.

“We’re going to start here, but I want to fuck you standing up. So we’ll end up by the wall over there,” I say pointing with the riding crop to where the large wooden X is on the wall.

“Put your hands above your head,” I order to which she obeys immediately, and automatically. She is fascinated. She looks up at me with awe, thrill, excitement and trust in her eyes. I won’t let her down. I stand very close to her body as I fasten the cuffs. Her gaze is level with my chest watching me. I hear her inhaling my scent.

I step back and gaze at her. Ever since I’ve met her, I wanted her in here, in this position. Right now she’s so fucking hot, I can barely keep my hooded, salacious, carnal expression off of her helpless look...all at my mercy. But it’s not just about wanting to have her at my beckoning, or just to fuck her; that’s not it, although God knows it’s ever present. But I long for her as if nothing we do is enough to fill my desire of her! My gaze reflects that longing when I look at her beautiful face. I slowly walk around her, admiring her.

“You look mighty fine trussed up like this, Miss Steele. And your smart mouth, quiet for now. I like that.” Standing in front of her again, I hook my fingers into her panties, and at a painfully slow, but sensual pace, I peel them down her legs, stripping her agonizingly slowly, but the end game is that I end up kneeling in front of her. Without taking my gaze off hers, I scrunch her panties in my hand, holds them up to my nose, and inhale deeply. Her eyes go wide in wonderment. I grin at her reaction and tuck the panties into my jeans’ pocket.

I rise from the floor lazily, like a jungle cat, and point the end of the riding crop at her navel, leisurely circling it, pleasure tormenting her. As soon as the leather of the riding crop touches her, she quivers and gasps. I walk around her again with the crop trailing around the middle of her body. After I make a second round around her delectable body, I flick the crop fast as a snake bite, and it hits her underneath her behind… against her sex. This surprising attack makes her cry out in surprise as all her nerve endings stand to attention. She pulls against the restraints. It is a sweet, strange, pleasure pain, an indescribable feeling which is a first experience for her.

“Quiet,” I whisper at her ear rubbing my nose as I walk around her body again, dragging the crop slightly higher around the middle of her body. This time when I flick it against her in the same place, she’s ready and anticipating the feeling of it. Her body convulses at the sweet, stinging bite, she rolls her head back, her mouth makes an O shape as if she momentarily left her body.

I  make my way around her body again, but this time I flick the crop on her nipple making throw her head back as her nerve endings sing. I hit the other one and both her nipples harden and elongate from the assault, and she moans loudly, pulling on her leather cuffs.

“Does that feel good?” I breathe.

“Yes,” she responds arousing me. I hit her across the buttocks this time as chastisement.

“Yes what?” I ask firmly.

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpers. I come to a stop this time, and she has her eyes closed as she’s trying to absorb myriad of sensations her body is experiencing.

Very slowly, I rain small, biting licks of the crop down her belly, heading south finally reaching her clitoris where the assault makes her cry out loudly.

“Oh… please!” she groans.

“Quiet,” I order her, and hit her behind again for chastisement. And suddenly, I’m dragging the crop against her sex, through her pubic hair, down to the entrance of her vagina.

“See how wet you are for this, Anastasia. Open your eyes and your mouth,” I order her and she does as she’s told, completely seduced. I push the tip of the crop into her mouth.

“See how you taste. Suck. Suck hard, baby,” I order, and she closes her mouth around the crop as our eyes lock. My eyes are blazing for this amazing woman, and I’m completely in my own element. I pull the tip from her mouth, and he stand forward and grab her and kiss her hard, my tongue invading her mouth. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her against me, my chest crushing hers, her hands above her.

“Oh, Anastasia, you taste mighty fine,” I breathe.

“Shall I make you come?” I ask in a husky voice.

“Please,” she begs.

I make the crop bite her buttock. She cries out.

“Please, what?” I ask her firmly.

“Please, Sir,” she whimpers. I smiles at her victoriously.

“With this?” I ask holding the crop up to her eye level.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Are you sure?” I look at her sternly.

“Yes, please, Sir,” she begs.

“Close your eyes then,” I order which she obeys immediately.  I start with tiny, biting licks of the crop against her belly at first then I move down, soft small licks against her clitoris, once, twice, a third time, fourth, fifth, sixth time... Over and over again, until finally, she’s completely spent and comes loudly, sagging weakly. My arms immediately wrap her around her body as her legs give out on her. She’s completely dissolved in my embrace, her head against my chest. She’s moaning and whimpering as the aftershocks of her orgasm running through her body.

I lift her and quickly move her while her arms still tethered above her head, her back to the to the polished cross. I can only take so much of watching her, I pop the buttons on my jeans. I put down against the cross for a short minute and rip a condom package and roll it onto my length, then wrap my hands around her thighs lifting her up again.

“Lift your legs, baby, wrap them round me,” I order. She obeys wrapping her legs around my hips, I position myself beneath her, enter her with one thrust, and I’m inside her; my favorite place in the entire universe. She cries out, moaning.  My moans are subdued by her ear. Her arms are resting on my shoulders and I trust into her repeatedly deep. Again and again, finally my breathing gets harsher as my head leans down at her throat. I can’t take any more of the buildup as I watch her approaching orgasm and inevitably, she comes again loudly, and my peak follows hers shouting my release through clenched teeth while holding her hard and close to me. I pull out of her quickly and put her down against the cross while my body is supporting hers. I unbuckle her cuffs, and we both sink to the floor completely spent.

But I'm still not done with her yet...

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