Wednesday, May 9, 2012

CHRISTIAN and ANASTASIA - Chapters I - XIV combined


Chapter I

Just as I dismiss Claude Bastille, he turns on his heels at the door and grins “Golf, this week, Grey,” he says, rubbing in the fact that he can kick my butt in the golf course as well. He’s one of the best mixed martial arts instructors there is, and trains me very well as he should since I pay him well for his instructions. He kicks my butt on the matt often as expected though I give him a run for his money. He was an Olympic contender. I’ve been working out with him every day in the last two months since I have to spend all my excess energy. Although he used to kick my butt five days a week before that. I reserved other kinds of work out for the weekends. If I could kick his butt to the floor once or twice a week, that would be the highlight of my day.

Though I don’t like the pace of golf, it’s the game of businessmen, I endeavor to do well in it, and as it happens, often business deals are reached at the golf courses. I scowl and look outside from my twentieth floor office’s floor to ceiling windows. The weather is gray as my mood, unpalatable. I have everything under control, but it has been an ordinary existence for me lately. I haven’t had a diversion in the last two months. No exciting challenges and nothing has captured my interest. Everything is orderly, and all my affairs under control.
The phone buzzes. “Yes, Andrea?”
“Mr. Grey, Miss Anastasia Steele for Miss Katherine Kavanagh is here.” I hate surprises. I should not have agreed to give an interview to WSU magazine, but then Miss Kavanagh had been quite persistent, and she comes from a business family, whose father I can do business with in return of this favor. But someone else shows up in her place? I’m petulant like a child to Andrea.
“I wasn’t expecting a Miss Steele. I was expecting Katherine Kavanagh!”
“It’s Miss Steele who is here, sir,”she says.

I grumble, “Fine! Send her in!”

Less than a minute later the door opens, and a tangle of chestnut brown hair, pale arms, a messenger bag, indistinctly dressed pale legs in brown boots roll into my office floor sprawled headlong. Although I hate clumsiness, courtesy demands that I go and help her up, and reach out and get her into upright position holding her slim shoulders. As she stands up, I meet the brightest blue, shy eyes capture mine as a jolt of electricity halt me in my tracks. She looks at me, through me, as if to dig into my soul, unnerving me, as if shining a light to the depths of my being and pulling it to the surface.
She blinks, blushing after noticing my face. I grimace, but quickly smile. It’s always the same. Women react to my face that way, tongue tied.
I extend my hand, deciding to have fun. “Miss Kavanagh. I’m Christian Grey. I hope you’re alright. Would you like to sit?”
She blushes, her pearlesque skin changes color to her hairline blushing, bringing her gaze down, her ponytail nearly undone with the tumble she took, her voice stutters briefly as I receive her tiny hand in mine. I feel a jolt of electricity with her touch! Wow! She must feel the same way because she looks as if she got shocked and withdraws her hand with a slight gasp.

“Miss Kavanagh is indisposed. She sent me. She isn’t well. I apologize for the change in the last minute Mr. Grey." Her voice sounds musical, her long lashes cast a shadow over her blue eyes which are downcast again in that shy manner.
“And you are?” I coax the words out of her.
“Oh, I’m Anastasia Steele. I’m studying with Kate.. uhm… Katherine, uhm.. Miss Kavanagh at WSU.” She stutters and stumbles over her words. I’m amused. There’s something about her. She’s a brunette too. As she casts her eyes down again, I can see she’s nervous and extremely shy. She can’t even meet my eyes, she just looks around, anywhere but me. I fix my gaze on her, already feeling a distaste of her indistinct A line skirt, shapeless blouse, and cheap boots. All of a sudden I imagine her in silk and satin; I don’t even know where that thought came from. I can’t imagine her to be a journalist with her demeanor. She doesn’t have a single decisive, emphatic bone in her body. She’s too shy, too compliant, too forbearing… too submissive. I take a sharp intake of breath. My mind is wondering, and before I can point her to a seat she gazes up at my painting, and looks at it admiringly. I feel compelled to explain. “Local artist,” I say,“Trouton.” I don’t even know what made me explain that, I wouldn’t ordinarily care.
“Lovely,” she speaks slowly, “raising the ordinary to extraordinary.” I was surprised to hear those words out of her so simply and eloquently, as that was my exact thought on it when I purchased it – in a way, she is extraordinary out of the ordinary.
“Yes…” I find myself saying while gazing at her intently. She flushes all over again, as my thought wonder how her derriere color would change with the bite of my twitchy palms. I don’t know where that thought came from; I slightly shake my head, and see her making an attempt to set up her outdated mini-disk recorder on my very expensive coffee table all thumbs dropping it repeatedly. Though I find clumsiness irritating, I find hers to be endearing, and try to hide a smile behind my index finger.
What the f*ck! How did I not notice those lips and she’s biting her lower lip in her frustration trying to set that antiquated machine up! What I would love to do to that lip! I can’t get my gaze off of it, and my mind is wondering in all directions going crazy! I just want to reach up and release that out of her bite and put it in my mouth! I close my eyes, and take a slow breath as she finally sets up her recorder, and I am chiding myself in my head for thinking like an adolescent boy as she mutters an apology for not being used to that recorder which I could care less; I’m too engrossed watching her bottom lip.
I tell her to take her time giving myself time to gather my errant thoughts.

Once she sets her recorder up, I’m disappointed by the questions she’s asking. They’re mundane, ordinary. Why am I spending my time to answer such questions?
She’s flustering again noticing my distaste, and disappointment. After hearing my answer to her question she mumbled, “You sound like a control freak.”
What the f*ck? How right you are baby! If only you knew. I tell her looking at her intently “Oh, exercise control in all things Miss Steele.” I would love to subdue that smart mouth of yours right now! She blushes again biting her lip.
She asks me a question about power; I can tell she finds me arrogant. I give her an answer which pops her mouth open. She then asks me of my interests outside of work to “chill out.” I tell her most of my interests except my two most favorite both of which would include her right now. In fact I am envisioning her tied up on my poster bed in my playroom. What the f*ck! Where did that image come from? She asks me a few other questions which are public information. Didn’t she even do her homework before she came over to interview me? Ridiculous!
Then she opens her mouth and asks me the question even my family didn’t dare to ask; what's in everyone's mind, but no one worded it before:
“Are you gay Mr. Grey?” What the f*ck? How dare she?
I would now love to take you over my knees and beat the living shit out of you had you been mine with that question! I slightly change colors, but compose myself. I answer firmly: “No Anastasia, I’m not!
She has the decency to look painfully embarrassed. She flusters.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Grey. It… uhm.. the question was written…” pointing to her notes, “right here?”

“Didn’t you compile your own questions?” She looks chagrined.

“No, Mr. Grey. Kate, uhm… Miss Kavanagh did,” she replies flushing.

“That explains the questions. Tell me, how did you end up interviewing me if those are Miss Kavanagh’s questions?”
“Uhm… I was drafted. She’s my roommate, and she’s very ill.”
All of a sudden I feel much better.“Well then, let me ask you some questions. It’s only fair after your less than informal, more so personal questions.” She flushes and flusters fidgeting in her seat. I look at her pointed, yeah, I like to get you squirming, and subdue you baby! There she goes again biting her lower lip. I just want to reach over and thug that chin so she stops doing it, or else I will f*ck her over on my coffee table… Calm down Grey, I tell myself.
I ease myself back into my chair, and rub my lower lip with my index finger. She fidgets more. Ok, she’s not a lesbian, and not immune to my charms.
Andrea comes in after knocking the door. “Mr. Grey, your next appointment is in two minutes.”

“Cancel my next appointment Andrea!”I say, and she freezes in her place. “Sir?”

“I said cancel it,” turning my head to her gaping mouth, face getting red. Anastasia is getting ready to leave, and packing her things saying, “I don’t want to alter your schedule Mr. Grey.” At least Andrea has the decency to finally realize my command, and says, “yes sir.”
“You don’t have to leave right away Miss Steele. I can give you a tour if you like.” She’s ready to bolt.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that for me Mr. Grey,” she mumbles.

“Miss Steele, what are your plans after graduation?”
“I haven’t thought that far Mr. Grey. Just trying to get through my finals.”
I find myself offering her a job; I’d never do that, “you can apply for an internship here.” What the hell is wrong with me, she’s too young, and I have a policy to never f*ck the staff. But she’s not staff yet.
She dismisses my offer. What’s wrong with my company?

“Why not?” I ask her.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” she asks as if it’s common knowledge, and takes her bag and stands up. Not to me! I rise up, and walk to the door smoothly, opening it for her. I don’t want her to trip over her own feet on her way out, indicating my intention, and she grudgingly thanks me as I smile.

Both Andrea and the intern’s mouth agape as I walk Miss Steele out. I ask her if she had a jacket, and the intern rushes to get it for her. I grab it out of her hand, put it on Miss Steele. My hand is on her shoulder just a second too long and I feel the jolt of electricity again as I know she does as well.

“Goodbye Anastasia,” I say. “Goodbye Christian,” she says as the door closes.

I turn on my heels, and order Andrea:

“Get Welch on the line!” A minute later he’s on.

“Welch! I want you to do a background check for me.”
“Yes sir. Name?”
Anastasia Steele. I need it ASAP.”
“Yes sir.” I hang up. Now I wait. And I don’t do waiting. I have to give myself time to see if I still want her in a couple of days. She is too young, and looks too inexperienced, but how fun would it be to teach her. I hate waiting.

A couple of days later I receive her detailed but nondescript background check. She’s 21 years old, works at a hardware store part time, has 4.0 GPA, but it says nothing about her past or present relationships. Even though few days passed since she had interviewed me, I can’t get her off my mind. I have to find out. I dial my assistant.
“Andrea, book me a place in Portland, for tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”
I hate waiting, I don’t do waiting! I am freaking right now, but I have to find out about her. I’ve never pursued a woman before. It’s a first. I don’t even know her sexual orientation. She seemed to have responded my charms positively. What if she’s not single? F*ck! The thought never occurred to me. Only one way to find out. If she’s not, then I’ll come back and forget about that idiotic venture. But right now, I’m going out of my mind and itching to find out about her. I can’t get her lip biting out of my mind without my inside twitching like a teenage boy.
Tomorrow. I’ll see her again tomorrow.



I find myself like an idiot teenage boy in front of the Clayton’s Hardware Store. She’s working today. I take a deep breath and locate her within thirty seconds. She’s at a register looking at a computer screen engrossed in her task while eating a bagel. Sometimes she’s removing the crumb from the corner of her mouth with her tongue, sometimes with her index finger. All of a sudden I have the urge to go and suck that piece of bagel from her lip. She looks just as lovely as I remember her, in fact far better in her jeans and t-shirt. Far, far better...
She looks up from her task to lock gazes with me her breath hitching. I smile. I’m happy to see I can affect her the same way. That means she’s not gay. She’s surprised as her blue eyes go wider.
Miss Steele. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you here.”
She gazes at my outfit; my sweater, hiking boots, and her eyes linger a little too long on my jeans. I’m pleased.
“Mr. Grey,” she manages to breathe. Questioning.
“I was in the area. I need to stock up on some items,” I say by the way of explaining. She’s biting her lip again, flushing.
“Of course Mr. Grey,” She stutters first, then putting on her employee smile she asks, “What can I help you with?”
“I need some cable ties,” I say smiling. What I can do with those to you I think as my gaze darkens. She flushes all over again. She leads the way. She then helps me find masking tape, and rope. She asks me if I’m redecorating. I smile my secret smile. No baby, I don’t redecorate. I have people to do that. These are for other DIY projects which you probably never tried. But how fun it would be to teach you!
She blushes under my gaze again. She’s just as affected by me as I am of her. I have to ask her something to keep her engaged.
“Have you worked here long?” Though I already know the answer to my question. Four years, part time. She answers in the affirmative, her eyes are still cast down and shy. She shows me two different kinds of masking tape. I choose the wider one.
“Anything else Mr. Grey?” she asks me in a breathy husky voice. Yes, she’s definitely affected by my presence. I find myself replying in the same tone. When she later cuts the filament rope with the efficiency of a boy scout, I ask her if she ever was a girl scout gazing at her intently. She blushes again, and in that nervous action, she looks down at her hands and rings her fingers as if the squeeze out some water.“No, Mr. Grey,” she says, “organized group activities aren’t my thing. I’m not into that,” she dares a peak under her long lashes. It’s frustrating trying to decipher her. I ask, “What exactly is your thing Anastasia?” I ask in a low voice. She gasps slightly at my question. I think I already know the answer. I bet its books.
“Books,” she whispers, but her longing look says something else blushing. Dare I say Bronte and Jane Austen?
“What kind of books?” I ask interested but knowing the answer.
“The British classics, the usual,”she whispers. I’m thinking she’s all hearts and flowers. Is this for me? I don’t do hearts and flowers. I rub my chin contemplating her response. But if it works, we just might have a lot of fun. I would love to try. She changes the subject going back to the employee mode.
“Is there anything else you need Mr. Grey?”
I need to get her engaged in talking to me. She’s beguiling me. I can’t take my eyes off of her; everything she does, her lip biting, her squirming and wringing her fingers just making me want to reach out to her, tie those hands up, and capture that lip in mine, and teach that mouth some lessons.
Then we hear her name called by a guy, “ANA!” Some preppy dressed guy coming to her knowingly. Is he her boyfriend? I get the chills all of a sudden, and almost have an urge to beat the crap out of that guy. Who the hell is he? She excuses herself, and goes to him. I narrow my eyes. Maybe I made a mistake by coming. He hugs her, and drapes his arm possessively over her, but she doesn’t reciprocate. I gaze at him glacially. Maybe they’re not involved. She drags the f*cker with her back to where I stand.
“Mr. Grey, this is Paul. His brother owns this place. I’ve known him for a long time; but I only rarely see him as he goes to Princeton studying Business Administration,” looking at me expectantly. I slowly let out a sigh of relief. The f*cker is not the boyfriend, but the owner’s brother. While measure each other out, Anastasia adds, “Paul, this is Christian Grey.” It takes him a second to realize who I am, and I can see his reveries change into one of admiration and awe. Yes, f*cker, let go off her now, and skedaddle to the hole you crawled out of! He asks me if I need anything.
“Anastasia has been very accommodating,”I say my eyes narrowing coolly dismissing him. He finally gets the point and leaves. I don’t know why I feel this pang of jealousy. I’m not familiar with this emotion, and it is an uneasy one. Why did I feel jealous, and proprietary towards her? She’s nothing to me. Yet… I would like her to be something to me.
“Is there anything else I can help you find Mr. Grey?” she says flustering. I ignore her question.
“How’s the article coming along Anastasia?” I ask. She looks surprised raising her eyes to mine. I don’t want to be dismissed, I want to engage her.
“Oh, Kate… I mean, Miss Kavanagh, my roommate is writing it. She is devastated that she didn’t get to interview you. She wishes she had some stills of you though.”
That surprises me and gives me hope that perhaps I can find a way to see Anastasia again. She can see the gleam in my eyes.
“Really?” I say, “Perhaps tomorrow I can be available. I’m staying here locally.” I fish out my business card out of my wallet, and hand it to her our hands briefly touching with the same jolt of electricity making me gasp slightly darkening my eyes. I have the same effect on her. “You need to call me before 10:00 a.m.”
She’s pleasantly surprised and she gives me the biggest smile brightening her already bright blue eyes to a new shine taking my breath away. She really has the most beautiful smile.
“Yes, we will. Kate would be so happy!” she says excitedly.
I pay for my purchases as she keeps her gaze down, and I’m dying for her to look at me again. Why am I so much like a teenager, her touch moving my insides? She looks up at me again as I hand my Amex to her. Our gazes lock. When I am done, taking my purchases, I turn to her and tell her, “Oh, Anastasia, I’m glad it was you who interviewed me, and not your roommate.” I want her to know I’m interested, and I can feel her gasp and she reciprocates my feelings. She likes me. I leave the store with a renewed purpose. This will work.
Taylor is waiting for me at the parking lot.
“Let’s go,” I say. He drives me to Heathman Hotel. I go to my suite, put my purchases on a chair. Busy myself with work, hoping she calls. If not, I’ll leave tomorrow abandoning this pursuit. I hope she calls. I go to work out to spend my excess energy. Her shy smile is before my eyes. I work out for hours. I come back to my hotel room, and take a shower. Anastasia, and her lips are still on my mind. If she doesn’t call, what other chance meeting can I arrange? My mind is working out backup plans. I don’t lose when I’m on a mission. Only if she wants it though. She’s too young for what I have in mind for her. She looks too inexperienced. Why won’t she call? Damn it!
I decide to answer some emails as my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number. Who the hell is this? I’m in a bad temper. I answer curtly:
A shy, nervous and husky sound replies.
“Uhmm… Mr. Grey? It’s Anastasia Steele.” My heart stutters for a second, and then the beat peaks up and I find myself answering with a husky but soft tone.
“Miss Steele. How nice to hear from you.” I almost thought she wasn’t going to call. I’m relieved. I hear her breath hitch. I feel elated to have that effect on her. I’m grinning like an idiot. I tell her that I’m staying at Heathman in Portland and we decide to do the shoot at nine thirty in the morning. When she says “Okay, we’ll see you there,” all breathy and excited, I feel my eyes darken and unable to wait until tomorrow, “I look forward to it, Miss Steele,”I say with laced seduction. My subconscious says “you are mine!”
The wait to next morning is laced with erotic dreams of Anastasia in silk stockings and handcuffs, her blue eyes expectant.“Anastasia,” I whisper, her name a prayer in my lips.
“Christian,” she breathes, the voice of hers is enough to unman me. I wake up sweaty with her name on my lips. I put my arm over my eyes, then remove them uneasy staring at the ceiling. Could any other name have the same effect on me like Janet, or Mary, or Angie? I think not. Anastasia. The name is a caress on my lips, it’s magical, alive. I’m drawn, bewitched, in her grasp.
I get up and go to the gym again to work out to pass the time. After my workout, I take a long shower and put on my white shirt with an open collar, and my grey trademark flannel pants hanging low on my hips. I eat my breakfast quickly, and let my hair on its own volition, leaving it wet. She calls me letting me know that they’re occupying another suite in the hotel for the shoot. Taylor waits by the door.
My gaze seeks her as soon as I enter the suite. There she stands in low rise jeans hugging her curves tightly with a white shirt showing her shape beautifully. I feel her breath hitch when her gaze captures mine, and she gives me a discreet once over.
“Miss Steele, we meet again,” I say extending my hand to receive her small pale hand. With her touch I feel the same jolt of electricity palpate between us, and I know she feels it too, as her blinking increases rapidly. She’s blushing and her breathing gets erratic. She gathers her hand all too soon and introduces her roommate who is as I expected, no nonsense, sure of herself, domineering. Like me.
“The tenacious Miss Kavanagh. How do you do?” I say, and thank my lucky stars in my head that it was Anastasia that came, and not her. She’s beautiful enough, but I wouldn’t like her one bit.
Anastasia then introduces the photographer saying, “This is Jose Rodriguez, our photographer.” She smiles at him lovingly and he back at her, possessive. I feel anger building inside me. Is this f*cker her boyfriend?
“Mr. Grey,” the f*cker nods.
“Mr. Rodriguez,” I say glacially. I sit and stand for the photo shoot all the while gazing and looking at Anastasia. I have to find out if one of these two f*ckers I’ve met in the last two days is her boyfriend. They were both possessive of her. About thirty minutes later we’re done, and we say out niceties to each other with Kavanagh, and I turn to Anastasia asking, “Will you walk with me, Miss Steele?”
“Sure,” she says anxious while the friend is suspicious and the f*cking photographer scowling. Boyfriend rings on my head. I have to find out. I don’t do “sharing”. She has to be mine.
She tells me disappointed that she has to drive everyone home. Oh, I got you covered baby!
“Please take Miss Kavanagh, the photographer, his assistant and their equipment to where they need to go.” Then I turn to her and say, “see, resolved.”
“Oh, Taylor doesn’t have to do that Mr. Grey. I can switch vehicles with Kate.” She goes back into the suite; ensuing a small discussion with her friend, and comes back out.
“Ok, let’s do coffee” she says flushing scarlet red. Her color makes me smile like the Cheshire cat. We have small talk on the way to the elevators. I press the button to call the elevator. As the door opens, a couple who have been making out spring apart looking anywhere but each other. What is it with elevators? Anastasia is flushed and embarrassed. I keep my gaze on Anastasia, watching the lovely red color creep up her shy face again, while I maintain to keep my smile away…barely. As the elevator dings reaching the first floor, I grab Anastasia’s hand, and walk out of the elevator. We hear the couple giggle behind us as I mutter “what is it with the elevators?”
We cross the street to a coffee shop her hand in mine with the jolt of electricity a constant thrum between us. I let her choose a table and ask her what she would like.
“English breakfast tea, bag out.” She says surprising me. So, no coffee. Apologetically she indicates that she’s not keen on coffee. When I go to get the drinks and something to eat, I find her gazing at me surreptitiously, and occasionally biting her lips. When I come back to the table, she brings her gaze down to her knotted fingers flushing. I would love to find out what she is blushing about. Me, I hope.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I say.
She flushes even as red as the Chinese flag. God! What I would love to do to you to get out what you are thinking! I put the tray on the table she picked, and stretch my legs under the table sitting opposite to her to see her beautiful shy face better. I coax her:
“What are you thinking?”
She’s not giving anything away. “This is my favorite kind of tea, I like it black and weak” she says. I have to get to the point and put myself out of misery, because I can’t bear it anymore.
“I see.” I say, “Is he your boyfriend, the photographer Jose Rodriguez?”
“No,” she gushes, “he’s just a good friend. More like family really.”
“I see,” I cut her, “how about the boy from the store?” I get to the point.
“No he isn’t. I told you that yesterday,” she says. I give an inward sigh of relief.
“Why do you ask?” she quizzes me.
“You get nervous around men,” I observe. She looks at her knotted fingers again, flushing once more.
“I just find you intimidating,” she confesses, though I realize she says that without thinking because she blushes all the way to her hairline, but not before I take a sharp intake of breath. I do affect her; the thought pleases me, and I can’t help but smile.
I am intimidating, but please don’t look down. I like to see your face,” I say, and kiss that mouth of yours that you’ve been biting. She looks up.
“I want to know what you’re thinking. You are mysterious, Anastasia.”
She looks baffled.
I tell her that when she blushes, I know she’s thinking something, but I don’t know what exactly. She asks me if I always make personal observations. I didn’t know I was. Wasn’t she making personal observations about me last week? She shocks me by saying, I’m high handed. How right you are baby!
I always get my way Anastasia,” I tell her, “in all things.
I want to know more about her, and ask her about her family. She asks me about mine, but I’m keener to know her. But she’s not giving much away. As I tell her my sister Mia is in Paris, she says longingly, “I hear Paris is lovely,” I tell her it’s beautiful, and ask her if she’s been. She’s never left the country.
I ask her if she would like to visit. She brightens, and says, “To Paris? Of course. But, it’s England I would really like to visit.” I bet I can guess why. My index finger grazes my lower lip, as she looks like she’s barely stopping herself from panting. “Why?” I coax her.
“Austen, Bronte, Shakespeare, Hardy. I like to see the places that inspired my favorite authors,” she says without blinking. Hearts and flowers as I suspected. She looks at her watch. She wants to go to study her finals. I offer her to walk her to Miss Kavanagh’s car. She thanks me for the tea. Oh, the pleasure is all on me, I smile. I hold my hand out to her, and she automatically hands it to me once again the current flowing between us. We both stroll back towards the hotel both lost in thought. I love the way her ass looks in those jeans, and without thinking I ask her, “Do you always wear jeans?”
“Mostly.” She answers confused. Suits her. Very very well. Just as we stroll to the parking lot, she blurts out, “Do you have a girlfriend?” all flushing, because I think she spoke her thought out loud. I give her a half smile.
“No, Anastasia. I don’t do the girlfriend thing,” I answer softly.
She’s confused, of course. A flicker of thought passes her face without any words. She has a disappointed look on her face and tries to let go of my hand, walking ahead and tripping headlong onto the street. I find myself shouting, “Shit, Ana!” as I yank her hand to get her upright as a bicyclist nearly missing hitting her as I pull her to my body as tight as possible. I feel her inhaling my scent as I get a whiff of her soft feminine smell of her hair and skin. I close my eyes momentarily whisper at her ear, “Are you okay?” while grasping the small of her back with one hand, and trying to make sure she’s ok and has no scratches on her face with the other. I brush her lower lip with my thumb as a shiver runs through my body. Her breath is caught. We lock gazes, and she is intently looking at me, her body and gaze are saying “kiss me.”
She’s lovely, and I am fighting against myself to control my urges to pull her the remaining inch and kiss her. I briefly close my eyes, and when I open them I’m determined. She’s too young, too innocent, too lovely. She’s not for my world.
“You should stay away from me Anastasia. I’m not the man for you,” I whisper. Her face is fallen as if I hit her…hard. It’s better if she thinks it’s rejection than to have her hurt later.
“Breathe Anastasia, okay? I’ll let you stand, and let you walk.” She has disappointment, and hurt on her face. She opens her blue eyes as wide as possible as to not let any tears pooling behind to escape.
“I’ve got this,” she says, “Thank you Mr. Grey.”
“For what?”
“For saving me,” she says nearly in tears.
I’m furious at the f*cker who nearly drove over her. “It was that idiot’s fault, not yours! Do you want me to take you to the hotel lobby and sit with you?”
“I’m okay,” she says her voice breaking. “Thank for doing the photo shoot,” she says at the last ditch effort trying not to cry. I’m battling with some foreign emotions. I nearly concede, and try to explain myself to her that I’m a fucked up guy, and what she would get from me would make her unhappy. She’s the hearts and flowers kind of girl, and the fifty shades of f*cked up Christian Grey doesn’t do that.
“Anastasia… I..” I stop, with the inner battle raging within me, wanting her, but not wanting to hurt her. I’m torn. I can’t bear the hurt on her face.
“What Christian?” she snaps, my name a prayer on her tongue. No, I can’t do that to her. I take a small breath and say, “Good luck with your exams,” confusing her.
“Thanks!” she says nearly in tears, and walks away from me. The last thing I see her doing is wiping away stray tears from her face as I kick myself inside.
F*ck! F*ck! F*ck!
I turn back to the hotel. I have to punch something, someone, something… I am full of emotions I’m not familiar with. I can’t get her face off of my head. The look… The hurt… Fuck! It’s all my fault… I don’t do the girlfriend thing and she’s not the kind of girl who would do what I want! I’m in a fucking conundrum and I have some unknown desire, some pull towards her, and I don’t want to hurt her. She will get hurt. She’s too innocent. It won’t work with her! The battle in my head rages. How would I know it won’t work if I don’t try?
Fuck this! I’ll give myself another day. See if I can work this out in my head. F*ck! I call Claude Bastille and ask him to get his ass to Portland. I need serious workout.
Tomorrow. I will wait till tomorrow.

I can’t get her face out of my mind. The crushing look she had, and the heartbreak that was displayed on her face as if she had death in the family. I couldn’t take what I said back. It's for her own good. She's too innocent. Too sweet. Too deserving of something more than what I can offer her. But then her presence pulls me to her. I'm torn apart inside with these tornado of emotions. I just can’t introduce her to my dark world! She deserves better; she needs someone to sweep her off her feet, go hearts and flowers on her which she clearly desires. But then the idea of someone else touching her is killing me inside! (<=Roberta Flack - Killing Me Softly) I hate this foreign feeling that’s eating me, clawing into my soul. I hate being this way. I'm short with everyone. Even Taylor who generally has his poker face flinches. I'm too edgy. 
It’s been nearly a frigging week. I’m watching her from afar like a teenage boy! She’s going to school, going to work while I still manage my world from the Heathman Hotel in Portland. I can direct my company from here until I finish my duty for the graduation commencement ceremony at WSU where I’m supposed to confer degrees to the graduating class. Including her… Anastasia. Why can’t I get her out of my mind? What am I a f*cking teenager? Diversion… What I need is diversion. But nothing is appealing to me except her. It’s like her body calls to me, her sprit, her blood, her being. I can’t f*cking escape this feeling! (<= Notion by Kings of Leon)
I have to do something to show her I’m interested in her, but I still feel I have to warn her. She’s into British classics and Hardy she says. I decide to send her Tess of the D’Urbervilles first edition with a note. I’m sure she’s read it. I want her to stay away, but not stay away. At least give her a warning. If she rejects me at least, I can maybe move on. Maybe…
I handwrite the note:
Why didn’t you tell me there was danger?
Why didn’t you warn me?
Ladies know what to guard against, because
they read novels that tell them of these tricks…
I order the 1st edition of the book and have it sent to her house with my warning hoping she’ll get my warning, but part of me also hopes that she’ll disregard it. I’ve never desired someone as much, not by any stretch of mind, and I’ve had quite a few women. I scold myself that I can have my pick of women. Almost any woman! But I don’t want any woman! I want her! Maybe if I can hold on till her graduation and if I see her then, maybe then I can declare my hand to her. I’m f*cking losing my mind! She's bewitched me body and soul! I don't want to be away from her!! (<= Bruce Springsteen - Witchraft)
It’s Friday night. I had my dinner at my hotel room with my brother Elliot who brought some clothes for me seeing as I wasn’t intending to stay this long. My phone rings. I look at the caller ID and it’s her! Anastasia! I answer the phone on the second ring nearly breathless, surprised but softly I inquire: “Anastasia?”
She doesn’t sound good. Is she ill? I’m immediately alert and attentive to her voice. Her speech is slurred.
“Grey…” she sounds off key, “why did youuu,” *hiccups* “send me the books?”
I immediately feel concerned. I get in a protective mode because she’s not well. There is definitely something’s wrong with her!
“Anastasia? Are you alright? You sound off key, strange…”
She giggles and slurs again. “Grey, you’re the strange one, not me!”
She’s drunk!
“Anastasia, have you been drinking?” I ask incredulous.
“None of your business! Why should you be con… con…” she struggles to complete her sentence, “con.cerned?”
“Just curious. Tell me, where are you?”
She giggles, actually giggles. “In a bar!” she gushes.
“Which one?”
“Uh uh… It’s a bar in Portland.”
“How will you get home Ana?”
“Don’t know,” hiccups, “I’ll find a way”.
“Which bar is it Anastasia?”
“Why the hell did you send me Tess of the D.. Durb… D’Urbervilles books Christian?”
“Anastasia..” I say as calmly as possible as my anger is rising to the boiling point. “Tell me where you are!” My calmness is laced with anger.
“You are sooo bossy, controlling person man..”
“Where the f*ck are you Ana? So help me, I’ll find out one way or the other!”
“oh so far away from… from.. where you are. Yeah, from Seattle.”
“Ana, please.. Where are you?”
“Goodnight Christian!” and she hangs up! On me!

“TAYLOR!” I yell. My brother looks at me amused. He’s never seen me in pursuit of a woman, and this is a sight to see for him.
“Yes sir!” he shows up.
“I need you to track Anastasia Steele’s cell phone. Find out her location! Now!”
He’s got his little command center setup already to control a space mission let alone finding the location of a Miss Anastasia Steele. Few minutes later I have the location. Elliot opens his mouth to say something and I stop her with one gesture of my hand, and he grins holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“Taylor! Let’s go!” I say, and Elliot also grabs his jacket, sidling along. I look at him pointedly. He says grinning, “Hey bro! I always thought you were gay! This I gotta see!” I clench my teeth, but let him come along.
“Yes sir.” We speed through the night from Heathman’s to the bar. I call Ana back with satisfaction as we speed through the night.
“Hi?” she answers scared. That’s right! You need to be scared.
“I’m coming to get you!” I hang up brewing.
It’s not too far from where I’m staying, and we make it within ten minutes of me hanging up. I am able to locate her in front of the bar where the photographer is making his advances on her while she’s feebly trying to push him away. I want to hit the living daylights out of the f*cker! Elliot is with me.
“Go find her roommate. Cute, strawberry blonde. She answers to the name Kate Kavanagh!”
“Cute and blonde? With pleasure!”he grins and smoothly walks into the bar.
“I believe the lady said No!” I hiss through my teeth as I emerge from the darkness. It’s taking all my self-control not to jump at him, and beat the crap out of him. He lets go of her.
“Grey,” he says tersely.
As if on cue Anastasia doubles over and hurls the contents of her stomach on the concrete patio splashing the f*cker who jumps back muttering something in Spanish. She’s barely able to stand up. I rush to steady her head while holding her hair back. I pull her to the flower bed where she can do less splashing while clearing out the content of her stomach in the relative darkness.
“If you’re going to throw up, do it here.” I say. She pukes for a long while and even after the entire content of her stomach is gone, she continues to dry heave. I hand her my handkerchief. She takes it embarrassed, while her f*cking attacker hangs by the door like a cat who spilled his milk. He mutters her he’ll see her inside, and walks away! Walks away! What kind of friends first forces his hand on his friend and then leaves her with a complete stranger to be cared for? Ana is three sheets to the wind, but she manages to say “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for Anastasia?”I ask. This better be good.
“Oh, you want the list? The phone call… Throwing up… but mostly for the phone call,” she looks chagrined looking down at her hands.
“We’ve all been here one time or another, but perhaps not quite as badly as you are,” she looks as if I slapped her. But I push on, “Do you make a habit of pushing your limits in this manner? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for pushing limits, but not in this matter.”
She’s mad at me and defiant.
“I’ve never been drunk before, and,” holding her head trying to steady herself she adds, “I’ve no intention of being one again.” She staggers, and I grab and hold her close to my chest now the danger of her hurling passed.
“Come, I’ll take you home,” I say.
“How did you find me anyway?” she asks petulantly.
“I tracked your phone.”
She looks at me with an expression that says confused, and amused at the same time.
“I have to get my purse and jacket.” She says. She also wants to tell her roommate of her leaving. I tell her that my brother Elliot is inside and dancing with Kate. She looks surprised but she wants to go in. I usher her back into the bar, but I don’t want her to get sick any more than she already is. So I take her to the bar, and get myself a drink and get her a large glass of ice water. I make her drink it. All of it. I can see that her glare says“you’re bossy!” and I find that kind of erotic. She stands up to me even with her glare. Once she’s done drinking her water, I pull her to me, inhale her heady personal scent that is vanilla, clean soap, and outdoors. Somehow with her personal scent this becomes an intoxicating concoction. I have a hard time keeping my hands off of her. I lead her into the dance floor swinging, and we reach my brother Elliot and Anastasia’s roommate Kate who is like white on rice on my brother dancing their butts off and having a good time. Ana tells her I’m taking her home. She waves us goodbye grinning. As I try support Ana out of the bar and the noise, she starts swaying, and before I know it, it’s out of my mouth: “Fuck!
She’s on the floor headlong. This is times three. Will I always be picking her off the floor? Somehow even the thought of it is endearing though I hate seeing her fall and get hurt. I pick her up and carry her in my arms, and hoist her into the Audi SUV. Taylor drives us to the hotel. I carry her to my suite in my arms like the most precious cargo, like a child. I gaze at her beautiful face. She’s so captivating. I just want to run my fingers through her hair and face, and feel and gaze at her. When I enter my suite I take her to my bedroom. I'm bewitched by this innocent girl. Completely taken. She's here in my bed, and I'm completely helpless against her. Against this sleeping beauty. (Bewitched by Ella Fitzgerald)
I dismiss Taylor by saying “That’s all Taylor!”
“Goodnight sir,” and went back to his room.
I lay Anastasia after pulling the duvet cover up. I stared at her for minutes, hours I don’t know. I couldn’t get my eyes off of her my breath hitching at her peaceful look.
I kneel on the floor and untie the laces of her Converse shoes. I pull them off her feet. Then I pull the socks off. I then unzip her jeans and pull them off her revealing her flawless long legs. I pull the duvet over her; sit in the chair watch her lay in the infant position breathing slowly. It gives me an enormous amount of peace I have not felt in a long time. I just want to crawl next to her, and hold her all night. I’ve never had someone next to me in bed… to sleep with. Here’s a first. I strip off my pants and shirt. I pull a t-shirt on, and turn the side table light off. First time in my life, I sleep a peaceful sleep without any nightmares of the crack whore who was my mother or her pimp. I dream of Anastasia. Dream On by Aerosmith)
Being a morning person that I am, I wake up early after what felt like the most restful night next to beautiful Anastasia. I could watch her for hours, but I need to work out to get rid of this sexual draw towards her. I put my workout sweats on. I leave by the bedside table a glass of orange juice to give her a shot of vitamins and two pills Advil to get rid of her hangover. I work out hard, sweat pours out of me. After what feels like an eternity, I get back to my suite, and knock on my bedroom door before entering to not to make her feel uncomfortable. She’s awake, and her eyes watch and trail me. As her eyes linger on the sweat stains of my workout pants, her breath hitches, and that reaction does something to me, and I feel myself harden.

“Good morning Anastasia,” I say,“How do you feel?”
“Better than I deserve,” she whispers shyly, then looks up at me with her bright blue eyes. As I take the towel off my neck she gazes at me intently and asks “How did I get here?”
I go to the edge of the bed and sit. I’m close enough to touch her, but I won’t. I don’t want to tell her that I wanted to gaze at her all night trying to decide if she’s what I want. I opt for a lighter explanation.
“Since you managed to soil the bar’s vicinity, I didn’t want to take a risk with the car’s leather seats. I brought you here instead. It was closer,” I say passively.
She bites her lip hitching my breath,“Did you put me to bed?”
“Yes,” I say with my poker face.
“And undressed me?” she says in a barely audible whisper chewing that lip again.
“Yes,” gazing at her lips.
“And, did we… uhm?” she arched her eye brows, and turned red before lowering her gaze.
“No Anastasia. You were completely passed out. I don’t do necrophilia. I prefer my women completely receptive, and aware,” I say dryly.
She turns red as recognition goes through her face. That’s right. I’m very straight!
“But it was a very interesting experience to have you in my bed.”
“You slept next to me?”
“It is my bed,” I said wryly.“It was treat and one I won’t forget for some time,” I say. For a long time...
She questions me on my stalking tendencies as she calls it. Though she sounds chiding, she looks pleased.
“You should be happy I stalked you, because instead of here, you would have woken up next to the photographer who was pressing his suit on you last night, in fact rather forcefully,” I say remembering, none too pleased, and my anger rising again towards the f*cker.
“You sound like a courtly knight,”she says. Her incorrect observation throws me off, and brings me back to my worries. How little you know me. There’s nothing light about me baby. It’s all dark and fucked up.
“Anastasia, there’s nothing light about me,” I say, “maybe a dark knight.” She looks disbelieving. I give her a bitter smile. It’s too early to talk about my dark soul, or the lack of it thereof. I change the subject.
“Did you eat last night?” I question her. She shakes her head in the negative. I’m appalled.
“Anastasia, that was why you got violently ill last night! You must always eat, especially if you intend to drink!” I scold her exasperated. She flinches back, but replies.
“Will you keep scolding me this morning?”
“Am I scolding you?”
“You sure sound like it,” she says petulantly.
Good, I think my palms are twitching.“Be glad that’s all I’m doing. Had you been mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit on your behind for a week after what you did yesterday!”
“What did I do?” she scowls back.“What’s it to you anyway? Who asked you to swoop in and save me?”
Her answer oddly feels hurtful, yet another feeling I’m not familiar with.
“You behaved badly. You didn’t eat, you drank excessively, and got sick, and would have even been raped by what you call your friend. You put yourself in a position to get hurt!”
She lowers her gaze again chagrined. “Jose is my friend, he wouldn’t have hurt me. Maybe he just got out of line with too much to drink.”
“Maybe he should be thought some manners!” I barely contain myself. Maybe I should teach him a lesson he’s never going to forget! She looks up at me and locks her gaze with me.
“You are quite the disciplinarian Mr. Grey!” she spurts out. Baby, you have no idea! I grin.
Oh Ana, if you only knew how much!” My grin gets wider. Sometimes she sees right through me. I get up and walk towards the bathroom. “I’m going to shower right now, unless you want to go first...” I ask questioning. She gasps and holds her breath. My body responds to it like metal to magnet. I walk towards her and gently thug her lower lip out of the grasp of her teeth. My thumb grazes over her lower lip as the jolt of current passes on between us in a constant flow. I want to take her down and have my way with her right here, right now!
Instead I say, “Breathe baby!” and release her face. I feel her gaze glued behind me as I move to the bathroom. I’m hooked.
I shower as quickly as I can as to not to miss a minute with her. I take the speediest shower in my personal history, and come out coolly with a towel wrapped on my waist. She’s out of bed, looking around. Her jaw drops as she sees me, but then again, so does mine to see her so close to naked. One innocent, breath taking woman who is so unaware of her own beauty. She stills in her place. I tell her that her jeans were soiled with her vomit, and point to the clean clothes I had Taylor purchase for her this morning. Her eyes brighten, and eyes me trying to hide her gaze, she mutters “I’ll take… uhm.. that shower now.” And walks into the bathroom.
I dress in my pants and white linen shirt. I take my morning paper to read at the table while waiting for the food to arrive. Ten minutes later there is a knock on the door. Room service. I let the waiter bring the food on the dining table. After sending him off, I go to the bathroom door and knock letting Anastasia know that the food is here. She stutters an “okay,” making me smile. She’s very unease around men. Very inexperienced. Somehow this makes me pleased. When she comes out she looks breathtaking, innocent, but makes me frown when I see her hair damp. I have this protective urge to keep her safe even from herself.
“You haven’t dried your hair!” I scold her.
“I didn’t see the hair dryer,” she mutters. I narrow my eyes. She’s not mine… She’s not mine… She’s not mine… I chide myself. Not yet.. But I’d like her to be.
“You look astounding in that color,” I find myself saying unable to take my gaze off of her. She blushes.
“Thank you for the clothes Christian,” she says biting that lip again. “I should pay you for it.”
I frown. I don’t want to be paid for them! I can afford them. I feel like I should take care of her.
“You should learn to graciously accept gifts Ana,” I tell her firmly.
“I can’t, see, you’ve given me some very expensive books,” she says, quickly adding, “which intend to return of course, but clothes, I don’t know. I should pay for them. I know I can’t afford to pay for the books,” she trails off, “but I can pay for the clothes.”
“I can afford them Anastasia! You don’t need to pay for them,” I say to this stubborn beautiful girl before me.
“I know you can Christian. That’s not the point. I’d feel better if I did, that’s all,” she looks at her fingers as if some answers are written on them. She then raises her gaze at me and asks,“why did you give me those books Christian?”
I close my eyes briefly, and exhale. When I open them back again, I say, “because I felt that you needed a warning. When I was holding you, you looked at me begging me to kiss you, and,”I said running my hands through my hair in a nervous gesture. I felt a loss for words first time in a long time, but gather my thoughts and continue “and, look, I’m not the hearts and flowers kind of guy. I don’t do that. My tastes are very singular. You should stay away from me if you know what is good for you. Although God knows, I can’t stay away from you…” I look at her hoping she wouldn’t stay away, and hoping she would with a confused mess of emotions. I close my eyes to sort this damned feeling out. I’m not good at feelings, and if I knew what’s good for me, I would steer clear of her as well! Her proximity is bewitching, beguiling, drawing me like an undercurrent I can’t escape. Like a moth to the flame. Like her soul is calling to mine like it’s lost half seeking to merge. Even when I close my eyes, I feel her.
She whispers, “then don’t stay away from me…”
I feel I owe her the protection from my fifty shades of fuckeduppedness; I don’t want to see her hurt. She’s too innocent. Like none I’ve met, and I’ve met quite a few. I close my eyes again.
“Anastasia you don’t know what you’re asking for!”
“Tell me then!” she urges me.
“I guess that means you’re not celibate,” she whispers. That brings me out of my reveries, my eyes darken with passion for her, and desire heightens. I give her a salacious smile. “No, Anastasia,” I say amused, “I’m NOT celibate.”
“Oh!” she whispers her breath catches with desire and I can hear her heartbeat like the fluttering wings of a hummingbird trying to escape her chest. That does things to my body, boiling my blood. I just can’t let her go now. Come hell or high water. I have to try! I make my decision.
“What are your plans for the next few days Ana?” I ask my eyes dark with desire.
She tells me she is working today after midday.

How about tomorrow?” I ask leaning forward.
“I’m working all week, and Kate and I are supposed to be packing because we’re moving to Seattle.”
“Do you have a place yet?”
“Yes, someplace in Pike Market District.” I smile pleased. She’s going to be very close to me.
“I’ve applied for internships and I’m waiting to hear from them.”
“Have your applied to my company?”I ask.
“No, I haven’t,” she stutters.
“What’s the matter with my company?”I think out loud.
She grins, “your company, or Your Company?” God, I like her! She has a smart mouth, but unlike anyone I’ve met before. It’s a breath of fresh air. She’s not afraid of speaking her mind to me.
“Are you smirking at me Anastasia?”I ask her wanton. She catches her breath and bites her lip. I just take it anymore, “God! I like to bite that lip!” I growl. Her mouth opens as she gasps with desire, squirming. I like her response. I bet she’s wet all the way. The thought makes me desirous but not as much as what she challenges me to do next, “Why don’t you then?”
I make up my mind. I can’t stay away from her, but she still needs to know my terms. “Because I will not touch you until I have your written consent Anastasia,” I say smiling.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s pretty literal. I need your written consent before I touch you. I have to show you. When do you finish with work Anastasia?” I ask. She replies “eight.” I tell her that I could take her to Seattle this evening to enlighten her.
“Why can’t you tell me now?” she asks.
“Because I’m enjoying your company and I don’t want you to run to the hills, just yet.” She looks puzzled as I expected she would be. A lot of emotions pass through her face, but finally she looks resolute.
“Okay,” she says determined.
I arrange for a standby pilot for Charlie Tango as I have a feeling she may not agree to what I have in mind for her in which case she may want to come back home, and to my disappointment, this would be the end of our brief encounter. But I am really hoping that it’s not.
“You’re very bossy,” she observes after I hang up the phone. How right she is! Yet she still doesn’t have any idea how much more bossy I can be. No idea at all!
She’s unable to finish her food, whether it’s from nervousness, or excitement, but I still have a hard time with wasted food, and I tell her to eat it. I can’t help it! Doesn’t she know that there are people who are going hungry every day?
When we’re finished eating, she heads to the bathroom to wash-up. She emerges while I’m on the phone. I hang up in a few minutes, and I take her hand to walk out. There’s something about her that is drawing me to her. When she’s near me I can feel the air crackling. I impatiently press the elevator call button. In a minute or two it dings open. We enter into the elevator, and the air is even more electric and current is pulsing between us. She feels it too. Bites her lip. Our gazes lock, moth to the flame. Passion flames knotting my insides, I feel myself hardening.
Oh! Fuck the paperwork!(Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon) I growl, and lunge at her, pushing her to the elevator wall gripping her hands above her head with one hand, I steady her with my body pressing her to the wall, and fix her head with my other hand as my mouth explores hers. What a sweet exploration that is! She moans into my mouth, as our tongues start a tango of their own, dancing and exploring, and kissing. She wants me and I want her!
“You. Are. The. Sweetest. Thing. I’ve.Ever. Met!” (Feeling Good by Michael Buble) I find myself enunciating. I lost my sense enough to f*ck her in the elevator when it suddenly dings and stops on one of the floors letting three businessmen in. We spring apart, as I don my poker face while she looks disheveled and desirous still. I eye her from my peripheral vision while slowly exhaling this pent up sexual energy. The businessmen grin as we exit the elevator on the first floor as I grab her hand, and mutter to myself, “What is it with the elevators!”
She used my toothbrush as her mouth tasted minty fresh, and she smiled in the affirmative when I asked her about it. She’s one of a kind. We exit the hotel. I’m putty in her hands. Only if she knew. All of a sudden I feel elated with her next to me. I am only 27, and for the first time with Anastasia, I feel young. We are young! (We are young by Some Nights ft Janelle Monae)



I open the passenger door of the black Audi SUV, and let Anastasia in. She slides in and I close the door. I go to the driver’s side, and open my door and turn the car on. I watch her from my peripheral vision. I can see a myriad of emotions are passing through her face. She looks lost. Twice she looks like she’s going to say something, but she stops herself. She is affected by our kiss. This can’t happen again without premeditation. Losing control is not in my vocabulary.
I reverse out of the parking space, and ease out of the parking lot. I turn the music on.
The Flower Duet by Delibes ( Flower Duet link) comes on. Her eyes brighten and she beams at me. “What are we listening to Christian? This is wonderful!”
“Yes it is. It’s an opera piece from Lakmé.” I tell her. She wants to hear it again, so I put the MP3 player on repeat. She asks me if I like classical music which I do, but my tastes are not limited to them.
“My tastes are eclectic Anastasia. It changes with my mood. Classic, modern, church choral music, Tudor everything... whatever suits my mood at the time. How about you?”
“Me too!” she gushes.
Next, “Sex on Fire(by Kings of Leon) comes on and she beams with recognition. My cell phone rings, and I break out of my mood and get back into my business mode. I press the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel, “Grey” I say brusquely. It’s Welch. He says he has the information I asked for. That would be the contract details I want Anastasia to read and hopefully agree to.
“Fine. E-mail it to me. If you have nothing to add,” I say questioning.
“No sir.” He answers. I hang up the phone and the music comes back up. She gives her “you’re so bossy” look I’ve come to recognize. The phone rings again, and this time it’s Andrea. “The NDA has been e-mailed to you Mr. Grey,” she informs me.
“Great. That’s all Andrea.” I say and hang up. Soon as I hang up with Andrea, the phone rings again, and this time it’s my brother Elliot.
“Hey bro! Did ya get laid last night?”
“Hello to you to Elliot. You’re on speaker phone, and I’m not alone in the car,” I let out an exasperated sigh.
“Who is with you?” he asks.
I tell him that it’s Anastasia. He lights up over the phone and greets Anastasia as if he’s known her all his life.
“Hey Ana!”
“Hello, Elliot,” she responds shyly.
“Kate told me a lot about you Ana!” he beams and I can feel his grin on the phone.
“I hope its all good Elliot,” she says.
“Elliot, I will be dropping off Anastasia at her place. Do you need a ride?”
“I’ll see you soon then,” I say, as I don’t want him to be flirting with Anastasia. I feel a sudden pang of jealousy.
Anastasia asks me why I insist on calling her by her full name which I like. A lot. I simply tell her because it’s her name. She says she prefers “Ana.”
“Do you now?” I tease. She blushes as if I caressed her. But my mind is occupied; I have to let her know that I have rules. As I get closer to her apartment I turn to her and say, “What happened in the elevator will not happen again without premeditation Anastasia.” Of course, I like to do a lot more of it, but in my own terms. Much much more of it... She looks hurt and disappointed. We arrive at her apartment. I pull into a parking space, and park the car. She pouts, silent. A flush of color goes through her. She looks embarrassed as my eyes narrow on her. What I would pay to know what is going through her mind!
I glance at her with a salacious smile and walk to the passenger side of the door to open it for her. She climbs out of the car and murmurs, “I really liked the elevator experience,” surprising me and hitching my breath audibly. She lets me stand there shocked and immobile for a minute and with a shy gaze back to me, she walks away to her apartment. I gather my wits about and my feet connect with my brain and I speed to catch up to her. (The Way You Make Me Feel - by Michael Jackson and Britney Spears)
We go into her apartment to find her roommate and my brother together looking very well acquainted, grinning to each other like idiots and all mussed up. The roommate gives me a suspicious mother hen gaze. I approve the protective look she has of Anastasia, but that behavior also contradicts my possessiveness of Ana.
“Good morning Ana dear!” she beams, and when she turns to give me her greeting of good morning, her tone chills several degrees. I nod in acknowledgement “Miss Kavanagh,” formally.
My brother always the social butterfly chides me to call her“Kate,” then turns to Anastasia beaming brightly “Hi Ana!” and hugs her making me immediately jealous. I see that Anastasia awkwardly tries to return his hug as I get a glimpse of her biting her lip. That does things to me especially when she’s being nearly groped by my brother though I know that’s not what he is doing. I still dislike his overfriendliness to her. “We better get going Elliot,” I urge him. “Alright,” he says, and turns to his girl, and dips her low like he’s Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca, and gives her a long lingering kiss which oddly bothers me seeing Anastasia’s yearning as she is shyly peaking at me through her long lashes. When he says “Laters baby,” to Kate grinning that’s my cue to leave. I walk to Anastasia slowly and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She gasps at the contact as I feel the current flowing through between us steadily again. I want to take her in my arms, and it’s taking all my self-control to not to give her a kiss she won’t forget and leave her lips sore reminding her where I’ve been, taking possession of her. Yet, I just run my thumb on her lower lip. The limited connection does things to me, hardening me. I won’t kiss her, because if I do, I will lose control.
“Laters baby,” I murmur copying Elliot. She smiles. “I’ll pick you up at eight.” She nods, and my idiot brother Elliot blows a kiss at Kate like an enamored adolescent. I can see a pang of jealousy on Anastasia’s face before she turns her back. If you agree to my terms tonight, you’ll get more than a deep, satisfying kiss I say to her silently. Wait... Just a little while longer... I warn myself.
As Elliot and I walk to my car, he’s grinning ear to ear.
“I’m in love bro! Kate is amazing!” he says. I nod without bothering to respond. Elliot who slept with most of Seattle, in love? Hard to believe. Without waiting my response, he says, “Sooo?” he looks at me with a questioning gleam. “Did you get laid?”
“No!” I say firmly.
“Huh,” he says, “I thought you convinced me you weren’t gay last night!” he says without shame.
“I’m not! But she was drunk! I don’t take advantage of girls who are not sentient.” He grins...
“So there is hope for you two still?”
“Maybe. Too early to tell.”
“I heard you say you’ll pick her up at eight,” he probes.
“Yes,” I say curtly.
“Do you like her? I’ve never. Ever seen you with a girl! You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her. And don’t think I didn’t notice you reprimanding me with your steady glare when I gave her a hug,” he grins. I grit my teeth.
“Stop being a prude bro! I approve!”
“Like you had an option,” I grin. I change the topic on him,“so, how was the roommate?”
“Delectable! Amazing! Beautiful! I’m enamored! I’m in love!”he breathes bright eyed.
“Already?” I question skeptical.
“Well, so far, yes. No one has captivated me like that before,” he says seriously. Those are my exact sentiments for Anastasia, but I say nothing. Elliot adds, “I’m seeing her again!” My thoughts drift to Anastasia. I can’t wait for the evening to come. We reach back to the hotel in silence each lost in his own thought.
I have a lot of business to conduct, but I’m in no mood to do business today. I have to be moving about, be active if I have to make through the day. I text my right hand Ros what I want her to complete. I phone my assistant Andrea, and tell her she won’t be able to reach me for the duration of the day and to hold my messages.
“What are your plans for the day bro?” I ask Elliot.
“Actually haven’t made a plan. What do you have in mind?” he inquires.
“I was planning on going for a hike to Riverside Trail.”
“Sure, I’m game!” he said. It is going to be a long wait, and I want my mind otherwise occupied, my body worked out, raring to go.
We come back from the hike around six o’clock. I take a shower to clean up. After Elliot gets ready we both go and get a bite to eat. Once the meal is over we go back to my room. I will be going to pick Anastasia up quite soon.
“Are you going back to Seattle?” I ask Elliot. He grins, “So quick to get rid of me. But actually yes, I need to get back to business. I’ll be coming back on Saturday.” I nod.
“You’re too uptight bro! Make sure you get laid tonight! It’ll loosen you up.” he gives me his biggest grin. If he only knew, but it’s none of his business. Elliot gets his few things from my hotel room, and I shake his hand saying, “Thanks man for bringing me clothes and going to hiking with me!”I say.
“Anytime bro! It was worth the trip!” he gives me his boyish grin punching me on my shoulder and leaves for Seattle.
Taylor and I will be picking Anastasia up from work and drive to the heliport. We arrive early at the Clayton’s and wait for her to finish her work. She emerges from the sliding double double doors a few minutes after eight o’clock. As soon as she emerges, I get out of the car, and walk to her smoothly smiling warmly. She’s breathtaking in her black low cut jeans and light color shirt. So simple, yet so alluring.
“Good evening Miss Steele,” I breathe softly.
“Mr. Grey,” she responds politely nodding. I open the backseat of the car and let her climb in. She greets Taylor politely, and Taylor replies in kind. I climb in from the other side of the SUV next to her and clasp her hand giving it a gentle squeeze. I feel the jolt of current passing through us as I know she feels the same way about me. I feel her body temperature rise. I ask her how her work day was.
“Very long,” she replies in a needy husky voice almost too low to hear.
“It’s been a very long day for me as well,” I say seriously without being able to help myself. She is barely able to breathe a question about what I did during the day trying to distract herself from my intense gaze, and I tell her that I went for hiking with Elliot while stroking only her knuckles and making sure to not to touch anywhere else building expectation knowing its sensual affects full well. I feel her pulse picking up, her breathing sharp and deep. As we reach to the heliport, Taylor parks the car, and I get out of the car to open her door. She takes my proffered hand.
“Ready?” I ask, she nods unable to articulate any words as she appears both excited and nervous. Taylor leaves with the car as I take her hand and head to the elevator to go up to the helipad. As we wait for the elevator the memories of this morning comes flooding back, the air charging between us while the jolt of electricity keeps a steady current through our connected hands. The elevator door dings, and we enter. Her breath hitches also remembering this morning and knowing full well how much she liked it. I find a small smile creeping on my lips as our gazes lock. I would take her right here, but I manage to contain myself.
“It’s only three floors,” I breathe huskily seeing the longing in her eyes. Pretty soon the elevator dings again and we’re on the third floor rooftop. I go into the office to make sure all the preflight checks are completed. Old Joe is sitting at the desk, and informs me that they’ve all been completed. I thank him, and give him a warm smile. Anastasia looks surprised with this small exchange, looking curious.
“Let’s go,” I say making our way toward Charlie Tango, with my company name printed in blue on the side: Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. I open the door, and seat Anastasia and order her “Sit, and don’t touch anything.”I go back to my pilot’s seat. I turn to Anastasia and strap her in the four-point harness. I tighten both the straps and feel an enormous satisfaction and get incredibly aroused seeing her all strapped. I am so close to her as I inhale and drink her scent in. All vanilla, outdoors, and woman. She looks at me inquiring. I glance up and smile at her with passion heating up my gaze. She closes her eyes to feebly escape her desire forgetting to breathe.
“You’re now secure, can’t run away,” I whisper in her ear. Her breath hitches once again after getting a glimpse at my passionate gaze.
“Breathe Anastasia,” I say softly, touching and caressing her cheek. I want to linger, but I only press a chaste kiss on her soft luscious lips.
“I like this harness,” I whisper, and she stares at me confused. Hoping she will like it too. I’ll find out tonight.
I point to the cans and tell her to put them on during flight. I go through all the pre-flight checks, clear take off with the air-control tower, and take off towards Seattle. I see Anastasia a little nervous, and she looks at me with her wide blue eyes questioning:

“Do you know what you are doing Christian?” she asks.
I smile. “I’ve been a fully qualified pilot for four years. You’re safe with me Anastasia,” I say adding, “at least while we’re flying,” and I wink at her playfully. The smile she gives me is dazzling, breathtaking.
She asks me how long it would take to reach Seattle. I tell her about an hour. She looks relieved. She’s concerned of flight safety at night. I tell her that we’re flying in an EC135 Eurocopter; one of the safest in its class which is equipped with night flight.
“There is a helipad on the building where I live which is where we are heading,” I say.
“Of course, there is,” she murmurs in a low voice almost disappointed, sad; her reaction surprises me. Why would she find that upsetting? She glances at me sideways trying to memorize my face as if she's not going to look at it long and she wants to remember it. There is longing in her eyes; desire even. The thought of it and the possibilities makes me pleased, happy.
I turn to her and ask, “Are you okay Anastasia?”
Her answer is short, and clipped, “yes.” I point her to the emerging Seattle silhouette in the night.
“Do you always impress women this way in your helicopter?”she asks. Oh, that's what's bothering her. Though her question brings me up short. I’ve actually never taken any woman in my helicopter, she is a first, like she was the first woman I've ever slept with, or had in my own bed.
“No. I’ve never taken a girl up on Charlie Tango before. My helicopter I mean. You’re experiencing yet another first with me Anastasia,” I answer, looking at her with a renewed sense of reverence.
“Are you impressed?” I find myself asking.
“Christian, I’m amazed. In fact, awed!” She responds.
“Awed?” I want to know more. She’s got my attention, and her words are like litany.
“Yes,” she sighs, “You’re incredibly able... so.. very competent,” she breathes.
I’m so enamored by her response, and find myself saying “well, thank you Miss Steele. We aim to please,” and can’t help but give her my stupid adolescent grin. She looks happy. She observes that I enjoy flying.
“Yes,” I tell her, “immensely. Because it takes a lot of concentration and control to fly.. How could I not love it?” But then I tell her I like gliding even better.
Seattle looks absolutely stunning in the night light, and I see in her look that she finds it romantic, though I have a pang inside me reminding me I don’t do romance.
I fly through high rise buildings making my way towards Escala. A few minutes later we hover and land on the rooftop of Escala, my building.
“We’re here,” I say softly. In this closed small space, the air is intense between us. She looks excited, nervous, shy and her breathing erratic making me more desirous toward her. I reach over and take her headphones off. I unfasten my seatbelt, and reach over and unfasten hers. My excitement and desire for her are hard to contain. I clench my jaw and my eyes tighten in an effort to contain my emotions I have towards her. I want her, but I want to protect her too.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You know that, right Anastasia?” I say fervently. In a way I’m desperate for her to say no and leave, because God knows I am unable to. I’m hooked on her, she bewitched me with all her being. If she only knew how much I desire her... I can’t keep the wanting and yearning I have for her off my voice or my eyes. He speaks calmly and with conviction:
“I would never do anything I don’t want to do Christian.”
I nod, and breathe an inner sigh of relief and say, “okay,”softly and barely audible. I still eye her warily, torn between keeping her here, and not letting her go, and taking her back to Portland, and leave her with her innocence intact and ignorant of my dark world. But then I’ve never desired anyone as much as I have of her right this moment! She takes my breath away. She looks at me with determined, and hopeful blue eyes which breaks away the last bit of all my shattered resistance and I melt.
I open my door and get out. I duck and quickly walk to her side, and open her door wrapping my arms tightly around her pulling her down from the helicopter and tigh against me. It’s windy up on the rooftop, and I have to shout to be heard, “Come!”I say. The wind is strong, and I have to drag her to the elevator shaft, and punch in my number on the keypad. The door opens and I’ll pull her in. Once in the elevator, I tap in the code to my penthouse. She stares at the mirrored walls of the elevator gazing at our infinite reflection with admiration, and awe.
The elevator takes a short time to reach my penthouse and the door slides open. We enter into my all white foyer adorned with a dark wood table with fresh flowers, making a grand statement. My choice of exquisite paintings of Madonna and child adorning the walls. She gazes at them as she did the painting in my office wall on her first visit to interview me. I open the double doors and enter into the main living room though it’s more of a statement than an ordinary living room. The walls are double height and all white, with the outer glass walls allowing entry to a wide balcony overlooking the exquisite skyline of the city of Seattle.
I have an oversized U shaped sofa in the main living area facing the open kitchen. The fireplace is also lit giving an ambient, sensual and warm feeling.
“Can I take your jacket Anastasia?” I ask softly. She shakes her head; she still seems cold. I want to warm her, but I divert myself by asking her if she would like a drink. She looks both confused, and amused. I raise my eyebrows slightly and tell her that I’d have a glass of white wine, and ask her if she’d like her to join me.
“Yes please,” she responds shyly. I tell her my choice of white wine, and ask her if she would be okay with that choice.
“Christian, I don’t know anything about wine. Whatever you are drinking would be fine,” she says hesitantly. She’s innocent and inexperienced in every way my conscience tells me. I nod, and pour her a glass. She’s too quiet. Is she having second thoughts? One part of me wishes that she is, and the other part desires her more than anything. But I have to ask and this has to be her choice.
“You are too quiet Anastasia, pale in fact. Are you alright? Hungry?” I ask probing.
She shakes her head in the negative.
“You have quite a place here Christian. Very big,” she remarks absently.
“Big?” I amuse.
“Yes, very,” she responds. When she notices the piano she asks me if I play.
“Yes, I do,” I respond my gaze locked on her like a hawk’s. I’m intent, and desirous, and enamored with her. With this innocent, beautiful girl who is barely aware of her own enticement.
“Is there anything you can’t do?” she remarks nearly sadly, as if I am unreachable.
“Few things...” I say. “Would you like to sit Anastasia?” I ask her inviting her to the sofa. She sits and with a gleam she smiles. I’m curious to know what is going through her mind right this minute. She’s so closed to me. I work hard to read her body language. She’s unlike anyone I’ve met.
“What amused you Ana?” I remark quietly sitting close to her near enough to touch. I sit back propping my elbow behind me.
“Why did you give me the Tess of the D’Urbervilles books Christian?” she asks intently. She’s hard to read as her question takes me by surprise.
“I gathered you liked Hardy and I owed you a warning about myself. That was the only way I could think of. Either to hold you to an impossible ideal like Angel Clare, or to a complete debasement like Alec D’Urberville,” (<-Darcy & Elizabeth dance scene and music)I murmur slowly my gaze flickering with my inner desire laden with dark sensuality.
“If you are only offering me two choices Christian, I will take the debasement,” she whispers to me biting her lip and completely shocking me. Her words and the sight of her with her lip in the clasp of her teeth hitches my breath and I have to take an audible gasp to gather my senses. She leaves me in complete awe of her. I shake my head and speak intently, “Please stop biting your lip Anastasia! It’s completely distracting me. You don’t know what you are really asking here,” I say still hoping that she says no.
“I’m here aren’t I?” she says determined.
“Yes you are,” I say unable to resist her anymore and hold my finger, “would you hold on for a minute please?” I say excusing myself. She has made her choice, and I’m already putty in her hands. I go to my office and print the Non-Disclosure Agreement my assistant Andrea emailed me earlier. I come back to the living room with the document, and hand it to her saying, “Ana, this is an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement. Seeing as who I am, my lawyer insists on having one signed.” I look at her determined, and tell her “if you are going for debasement, you need to sign this.”
“What if I don’t want to sign it?” she counters me.
“That would be fine,” I say noticing a tinge of disappointment lacing my voice, but I steady myself and add, “in that case, it’ll be the Angel Clare high ideals, and most of the book for you.”
“What is this NDA for? I guess, I don’t know what it means.”
“It simply means that you can’t talk about you and me and what goes between us, to anyone, about anything. Ever. At all...” I say clearly. A range of emotions crosses her face: A look of disbelief, surprise, fear, and finally curiosity.
“Alright, I will sign,” she says and proffers her hand to receive the pen from me. I extend the pen to her meanwhile still unable to hide my surprised face from her.
“Aren’t you going to read first?” I ask shocked.
“Nope,” she says determined.
“Why not?” I ask. I feel the need to chide her, this is not a good practice if she is signing papers without reading, "Anastasia, you must always read what you sign!"
“Well,” she says exasperated, “clearly Christian, this piece of paper,” holding the NDA in her hand like a piece of undesired accoutrement to get rid of, “means more to you and your lawyer - whom apparently you talked to about me - than it is to me. I wasn’t intending to disclose ‘us’ to anyone anyway. So whether I sign this piece of paper stating I won’t talk about the two of us is a moot point. I won’t talk! Not even to my best friend Kate,” she states completely disarming me.
“Fair point well made Anastasia,” I say completely beguiled.
She signs her name in the dotted lines in an exaggerated fashion, hands me back the NDA, and takes a large swig of the glass of wine nearly downing the whole thing. I see that she’s trying to gather courage and finally speaks her mind:
“Since I’ve signed your NDA, does it mean that you’ll make love to me tonight Christian?” she asks and immediately looks regretful and flushing. My jaw drops open completely shocked at her words. She manages to shock me! I, Christian Grey who doesn’t get taken easily is shocked by this innocent girl's words! But I gather my senses and respond.
“No, it doesn’t Anastasia. Let me clarify something. I don’t make love. Ever. Never have. I f*ck... hard. Besides, you will have to sign more paperwork, and also, you still don’t know what you are in for.” I gaze at her. “Once you learn, I’m afraid you may still run as far away from me as possible. So, I have to get to the point and show you what I mean. Come. See my playroom.” I say finally determined to let the chips fall where they may.
“Playroom? Are we going to play Wii, or Xbox?” she asks me surprised, and I can’t help but let out laughter. That’s the furthest thing from my mind.
“No Ana. None of those things. Come and see,” I say and gently thug her hand and lead her to the corridor and to upstairs where my playroom is located. I take my key out to the playroom which always remains locked. I take a deep breath, and give her one last warning, “you can still leave Anastasia. If you so desire, I can send you wherever you want to go; my helicopter is on standby, or stay the night and go home in the morning. Whatever you decide is fine.”
She gives me an exasperated look, and scolds, “Oh, just shut up and open the damn door Christian!” completely disarming me and leaving me breathless. I open the door and let her in.



She steps in, and her gaze gives nothing away. She inhales the leather, wood and citrus polish scent as if it’s an intoxicating concoction. She looks around the spacious room with dark deep burgundy color, gazing the old varnished wood floors. She then looks at the wooden cross shaped like an X and the restraint cuffs hanging from it. He eyes capture the ceiling and the suspension grids hanging from it. She walks in further and touches the ropes, chains, and shackles. She walks towards the set of riding crops, paddles, and whips. She checks the drawers where I keep the various toys opening one she looks at the contents and immediately closes it. Her face still gives nothing away. Examining, looking, but not saying anything, and no emotion is crossing her face for me to read.
She walks toward the rococo king poster bed with red leather cover. She eyes the cuffs, and chains hanging from the canopy. Her gaze travels around and she eyes the long polished wood table with stools underneath it. Still giving nothing away and curiosity of what she’s thinking is driving me insane. She glances at the karabiners at the ceiling.
She locates the feathery suede flogger with bushy end with plastic beads on. Her fingers caress it softly examining. Curiosity lights her eyes for the first time. “It’s called a flogger,” I say softly and quietly.
“Hmmm...” she says glaring at it in shock. Her gaze drifts to me, and then back at my toys around the room. Her face looks passive, but there seems to be an undercurrent of fear, shock, and numbness.
“Say something,” ( Fireworks by Katy Perry)I command softly though pleading for a verbal response from her.
“Does someone do this to you, or you do this to people?” she asks. I feel relief, and smile.
“I do this to women who wish me to do that to them,” I respond hoping she’ll give me something, some response.
“I see. It appears you have willing volunteers. I don’t understand why I’m here, or my purpose in here,”she murmurs.
“Because, I really, really, really want to do this with you,” I say almost pleading.
She gives an audible gasp, “oh!”with a questioning gaze. I expect her to run out of the room, but she walks further in looks at the paddles, and gives me the saddest, depressed look she asks, “Are you a sadist Christian?” her voice cracking at the end.
“I’m a Dominant Ana,” I say with my gaze intense.
“Dominant...” she tries the word out finding foreign to her lips. She shakes her head.
“I’ve no idea what that is Christian, or I don’t even know if it is any different than sadist. It sounds bad,” she whispers visibly depressed and disappointed.
“It just means that you as a submissive willingly surrender yourself to me,” I say softly, almost find myself pleading her to understand, “In all things.”
She frowns, and glares at me firmly saying, “and why the hell would I do that?” taking me aback. I really like her. Sometimes when she looks at me, she looks through me, into me. Into the soul I think I’ve lost a long time ago. This opposition is not something I’ve encountered before, and it feels so refreshing, so admirable, so challenging. I want her more than I wanted anything else. Ever!
“Because you want to please me,”I whisper with a small smile cocking my head to the side.
Her mouth drops open. Flicker of emotions go through her face, but I’m pleased to see that desire is one of them.
“Please you?” she questions with genuine interest.
“How do I do that?” she breathes. I close my eyes to hear an open mind and desire from her beautiful lips. When I open my eyes I gaze at her. She may yet want to join my world, as I’m eager to teach her.
“I have a written set of rules I want you to follow and comply with.”
“Rules? Whatever for?” she asks confused.
“The rules are for your benefit and my pleasure. When you follow my rules to my satisfaction, I will reward you. But when you break them, I will punish you and you will learn,” I whisper in a soft voice.
She’s still here, and has not run away at least. Still listening.
She waves her hand around and asks, “These things? What about them? Where do they fit in your fantasy?” she whispers.
“This is both reward and punishment as a part of the incentive package.”
“Reward and punishment?” she asks skeptical. “You get aroused by controlling me, exerting your will to dominate me?” She’s calm but with an undercurrent of fear.
“Essentially what I do is gaining your trust and respect, you wish me to dominate you. In return through your submission I get a great deal of joy and pleasure. It’s quite simple: The more you submit, the greater my pleasure.”
She’s all business, ready to explore the offer and maybe counteroffer.
“And from all of your pleasure as I see you would be collecting through my ‘submission’” she air quoted, “what’s in it for me? What do I get?” I like her! She’s a tough negotiator.
I know it’s not much, and most the time I see myself as the husk of a man, a soulless man at that, so it’s not much she’ll be getting aside from her own joy. But I am what she would be getting. I look apologetic and say, “You get me,” I say shrugging.
She just gazes at me, appraising. Almost weighing if what she’s giving is worth what she’s getting back but not giving anything away, passive. I get nervous. I don’t want her to slip through my fingers. I desperately want her. Need her. Right now.
“Anastasia please. You’re so hard to read. I don’t know what you’re thinking, you don’t give anything away. It's driving me crazy,(Crazy by Gnarls Barkey) I run my hand through my hair in a nervous gesture and ask her, “perhaps we should go downstairs. You, in here, it’s just so distracting for me. I can’t think straight.”
She looks at me as if I’m dangerous, a hazard to her health. No, no! A flicker of emotion runs behind her eyes, and as if she’d bolt and run. I don’t want her to be afraid of me. I like her too much. Maybe more than what’s good for me. I proffer my hand to her but she’s hesitant to take it, questioning, scared even.
“I won’t hurt you Anastasia, please” I plead with her softly. She receives my hand with that familiar jolt of electricity passing through us again. I lead her out and want to distract her. I take her down the hall and into a bedroom. The room is all white along with the furniture. I open the door and show her the room, “should you decide to do this, this will be your room. I know it’s plain white right now, but you can decorate it with anything and anyway you so like!” She looks surprised.
“What do you mean ‘my room’? You expect me to move in and live here?” she says horrified. I actually would if she were to accept, but amend my request.
“Perhaps not full time, but at least Friday through Sunday,” I ask in my brokering face.
“You want me to sleep here, in this room?” she questions.
“Of course.” I answer.
“Meaning not with you, together,”she asks realization dawning on her.
“No. Not with me. I’ve already told you; I don’t do sleep with anyone. Except of course that was a onetime deal when you were so out of yourself completely drunk,” I say admonishing.
Her eyes go into slits in repressed anger, you can blindfold her with a dental floss, and her pouty mouth goes into thin line. She moves on with her probing.
“Where would you sleep?”
“I sleep downstairs in my own room. Let’s go down, I’m sure you’re hungry.”
“Not really. I’ve lost my appetite,” she sighs.
I can’t have her not eating. “You have to eat Ana,” I reprove taking her hand leading her downstairs.
When we come down to the great room she turns to me but says nothing. The look she gives me is one of she looks alarmed. I don’t want her to be afraid.
“Look, Anastasia, I know this is different. Maybe even a dark path for you. So please, just think about it. Really, really well. Since you already signed an NDA, ask me anything. I am willing to answer any questions you might have,” I implore her.
I lead her to the breakfast bar, and sit her on a stool. “Sit” I command. She narrows her eyes, giving me her“bossy” look, but sits.
“What other paperwork do you have?” she jumps right in to the meat of the topic.
It’s a contract stating limits Anastasia. I have mine, and I need to know what yours are; after all, this is all consensual.”
She looks lost. “What if...” she starts trying to collect her mind from the overflow of information, “what if I’m not willing to do this?”
“It’s fine,” I say without giving anything away, though what I feel is the complete opposite.
“Would we have any sort of relationship if I wasn’t going to do this?” she asks softly.
"No," I answer.
“How come?”
“I’m not interested in any other kind of relationship.”
“Really? Why?”
“This is what I’m interested in only.”
“I see. How did you choose this path?”

“Is there really a reason why anyone the way they are? Hard to answer for me, because everyone likes different things. Some likes this, some like that. This is what I like, what I desire. Would you like to eat?”
She looks surprised. But determined to remain on her course of action, and not going for diversion.
“What sort of rules do you want me to follow?”
“After dinner, we’ll go over the document,” I say.
“I’ve lost my appetite,” she says softly, lost.
“You have to eat,” I say forcefully.
But amend with a soft question asking her if she’d like a glass of wine. She does. I push the food closer to her and she takes some fruits.
“How long have you been in this..” she says pausing searching an appropriate word for her thoughts,“persuasion of a lifestyle?” she ends her speech. I give a tiny smile.
“A while.”
“Are there a lot of women who wish to participate in this lifestyle?” she probes further.
“Amazingly large numbers of them,” I answer dryly.
She shrugs, and disarms me once again. “If there are so many of them, and seeing as I have never, ever been in this lifestyle, why me Christian? Clearly you can have your pick of willing volunteers.” I give an audible gasp to her to the point question cutting through all the crap.
“There is something about you I can’t escape Anastasia. You are different than anyone I’ve met before. Like a moth to flame, I can’t escape you. I desire you so much, I can’t help it! Especially now when you’re biting that lip of yours,” I say with a shaky breath, swallowing hard.
The first time since my revelation, she’s had light and gleam in her eyes.
“I think, I’m the moth, and you’re the flame Christian,” she whispers. “I will be the one to get burnt,”she says so low I don’t know if I heard her, or imagined.
“Eat!” I command.
She looks up determined, “No Mr. Grey. I haven’t signed anything with you, and I’m hanging onto my free will for the time being.” I really like her. She goes toe to toe with me negotiating.
“As you like Anastasia.” I say. She looks down her fingers, mulling over a question in her head, deciding direct approach would be the best course of action. Looks into my eyes and ask,“How many women?”
“Fifteen,” I blurt out.
“Long term, short term?”
“Some long, some short.”
“Did you end up hurting any of them?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say slowly. Fear creeps back into her eyes.
“How badly?”
“Not badly.”
“Are you intending to hurt me?”she says closing her eyes. I’m surprised by the question. I don’t want to hurt her.
“What do you mean?”
“I want to know if you intend to hurt me physically. Simple question.”
“When you require it, I will physically punish you and it will give you pain.” She swallows hard her eyes going wide. She downs her glass of wine.
She asks me if I was ever beaten, and remembering the time with Mrs. Lincoln, I answer in the affirmative. A lot, but I don’t tell her that. She looks surprised. I tell her that we can discuss this in my study, and take her hand. It’s like brokering a business deal. She’s a hard negotiator.
When we get into my study, I hand her the contract with the rules on it. It is several pages long. Her eyes go wide with the extent of it.
There are rules of obedience where I want her to submit total control over to me her Dominant in a fast and expeditious manner. She will participate any sexual activity I deem fit as her Dom subject to the Hard Limits without hesitation. She is expected to sleep at least seven hours a day. She will maintain her health by eating from a prescribed list of food items without snacking in between. She will need to wear the clothes I see fit for her, and I shall allocate a budget for the Submissive to purchase the types of clothes I find desirable. She must exercise four times a week for one-hour sessions and the personal trainer will report to me with her progress. For the personal hygiene and beauty, the Submissive shall keep herself shaved and waxed at all times at a salon I choose and undergo whatever treatment I deem fit. The submissive shall not drink in excess, or smoke or take drugs or put herself under unnecessary danger. She shall also not enter into any sexual relations with anyone else. She will be respectful and modest at all times. Should she fail to follow the rules, there will be immediate punishment in a nature determined by the Dominant.
She reads the contract intently, my eyes not wavering from her. Finally she raises her gaze at me asking, “What do you mean by hard limits?” she asks. Good, she’s still exploring the possibility.
“Those are the limits in the contract specifying what you won’t do, and what I won’t do.” She nods.
“I don’t think I want to accept money from you for clothes. The word ‘ho’ comes to mind,” she says almost inaudible. I gasp.
“No, you can’t think that Anastasia! I want to lavish you, buy you things. And when you accompany me for certain functions you will need clothes that would cost a lot and when you do get a job, you won’t be able to afford the types of clothes I would like you to wear. Please, let me buy them for you.”
She mulls that over, and responds. “If I don’t have to wear them when I’m not with you, I suppose I can think of them as uniforms. Okay,” she acquiesces.
“I’m not going to exercise four times a week,” she says determined.
“No Anastasia, you need to. You have to be strong for what I have in mind for you. Believe me when I say you need it.”
“Not four times a week. My counter offer is three hours,” she says all businesslike.
“I prefer four,” I say passive and determined.
“I think not. You say this is a negotiation, but you won’t let me negotiate.” She has a point.
“Fair point well made Anastasia. How about a counter offer. Three days for one hour, and one day for half an hour...” I say.
“No deal. Three days, three hours. It appears you will exercise me often enough.” She disarms me again making me full of desire for her instantly. I smile wickedly with relief. “Yes, right. Okay. I agree. I think you really should work for me. You’re a tough negotiator,” I say completely amazed with this young woman who is brokering with me, Christian Grey the tough nail.
“Thanks, but it’s not a good idea,” she moves forward.
“As for the limits,” I say handing my Hard Limits to her, “these are mine.”
My limits include, no fire play, no urination or defecation, no needles, knives, piercing or blood, no instruments, no children or animals, no permanent marks on the skin, no act involving breath control, no electric current, fire or flames.
Then I turn and ask her if she likes to add anything to that list. She looks lost and confused.
“I’ve no idea,” she mutters.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I’ve actually never done anything like that, so I really don’t know.”
“Ok,” I amend, “is there anything you don’t like to do during sex? I’m sure you have your likes and dislikes.”She blushes and squirms in her seat. I need to open her up. She’s too shy.
“Anastasia, you must communicate with me and be open if we have a prayer for this arrangement to work,” I plead with her.
“It’s not that,” she blushes shyly looking down her fingers and wringing them hard.
“Please tell me,” I say suspense killing me. Is there something bad in her past?
“I’ve never had sex, so, I have no idea what I would like and won’t like,” she finally mutters completely and utterly shocking me.
I close my eyes. No, this is not happening. “Never?” I breathe barely controlling my anger. No, she shakes her head.
“Are you a virgin?” I whisper. She nods in the affirmative turning crimson.
One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten... Breathe Grey. Deep breath. Shit! I’m still angry!
“Why the fuck haven’t you told me that before?” I yell. She flinches.


I pace around the room running both my hands in my hair doubly exasperated.
I stop, and ask, “Why Anastasia?”I walk back and forth again. “You should have told me you were a virgin!” I say coming before her.
“Well, I’m sorry Mr. Grey!” she reprimands me. “I’m not in the habit of mentioning everyone I meet the status of my virginity. The subject somehow never came up. Why should I in the first place? Or how should that have come about? I hardly know you. What did you want me to say? Hello Mr. Grey. Nice to meet you. My name is Anastasia Steele, the virgin!" she says exasperated, disappointed and upset all at once lowering her gaze. She asks me in guilt laden low voice, "Why are you mad at me anyway?” 
I sigh. “Because you know so much about me now. And I’m mad at myself, not at you. I knew you were inexperienced, but a virgin!” Oh God! I feel embarrassed. I open my mouth, and close it. Open it again feeling a loss for words. It happens a lot with her.
“I just showed you...” pointing upstairs. “Oh Dear God! May He forgive me! Tell me, did you even get a kiss from a young man aside from me?” Am I her first kiss too?
She looks affronted, “of course I have!” she scolds me.
“But, you’re a very beautiful young woman! Has no man ever swept you off your feet and claimed you?” I ask exasperated.
“I’ve never met one I liked enough... Never had my fairytale...” ( Love Story by Taylor Swift) she mutters looking at her small hands again.“Why do you keep yelling at me Christian?” she asks with her innocent blue eyes wide open, hurt.
“I’m not,” I say softly, “I presumed more than I ought...” All of a sudden I have this crushing feeling. She might slip through my fingers. I don’t want to take advantage of her. She’s more innocent than I thought. “Do you wish to go?” I whisper.
Her head snaps up, “not really. Of course if you don’t want me, I don’t want to wear out my welcome...” she looks hurt. I gasp. I don’t want her to go. Ever.
“I don’t,” I emphasize, “want you to go. I like you here. And you’re biting your lip,” noticing, I state huskily.
“I apologize,” she mutters shyly.
“You don’t need to apologize Anastasia. I wanted to bite that lip... hard... Since the first time I noticed it.” I say longingly. She gasps audibly with desire. I am putty in her hands. I proffer my hand to her and she absently takes it,“come with me,” I say. “We’re going to rectify your situation.” She looks puzzled.
“What situation?”
“Your virginity. I’m going to make love to you now Anastasia,” I say with desire in my eyes and voice to her.
“I’m a situation now?” she says holding her breath.
“You have a situation, but I don’t want to push my luck. I mean, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” I look at her with desire, pleading. She stops in her tracks with curiosity, question and desire in her eyes.
“I thought you said you never make love. You just f*ck hard,” swallowing. Her straightforward observations disarm me and increase my desire for her. My grin is salacious and full of desire.
“I intend to make an exception to the rule, or perhaps combine the two. But right now, I want to make love to you badly. I want this to work Ana!” I say pleading, “You’ve no idea how much I’ve desired and wanted you since the first time you sprawled into my office.” But I don’t want her to get the wrong idea that I’m a romance guy. She needs to have the full disclosure, and what I want and expect. “I’m not all hearts and flowers, and this isn’t romance, but a start for your training. It’s a means to an end. But it’s an arrangement I want to work out very badly. I hope you desire that as well!” I say fervently.
She blushes to her hairline crimson.
“But Christian. I’ve done nothing in your list, and know nothing, or don’t know how to fulfill your requirements for that matter. I don’t know if I’m...” she blushes more, “equipped with what you want. What you need...” she looks down.

“Oh, you are more than equipped with what I want. As for the rules. F*ck them! At this moment I don’t give a shit about them. I f*cking want you, and I know you want me, or wanted me. Since you’re still here, I assume you still do,” (← Tonight I'm f**king you by Enrique Iglesias) I hear an audible desirous gasp from her confirming my assumption.
“Please Anastasia! Let me make love to you! Stay with me tonight!” I say fervently, extending my hand to her absolutely hoping that she says ‘yes’. She looks stupefied. Shocked. Desirous. But unable to move. To convince her and remind her how much I want her, I pull her into my arms, hard, and press her into me in one swift action. I am out of breath with her proximity, it’s intoxicating, heady. Desire pours over me as I run my fingers through her luscious hair down to her long neck. She lowers her gaze completely shy, hiding her beautiful eyes. I want to see them. All of a sudden I yank her hair down forcefully with one hand making her look up to me. Into my eyes without letting her gaze move away from me. I want her to see the depths of my desire for her. Her facial expression says she wants me. Desires me. We’re locked, unable to escape each other.
She bites her lip absently, and I groan lowering my head down. With my right hand I release the lip from the captivity of her teeth, and take it into my mouth and suck hard slightly nipping with my teeth. She moans loudly into my mouth, and that is my undoing. I start kissing her hard, my tongue invading her mouth. Her tongue and her mouth reacquaint herself with me, and we’re lost in each other in our kiss for a long time. My hard length pressing on her demanding.
“Please Anastasia!” I plead. “I want you. I need you. Let me make love to you.”
“Yes,”she whispers. Her single word of approval hitches my breath shutting my eyes in relief. When I open them back up, there is desire, want, wantonness, salacity in my entire being for her.
With her approval, I take her hand without leaving my gaze off of her, lead her to my bedroom. It’s quite big with floor to ceiling windows with a view of the city of Seattle. My room is ultra-modern with white walls and pale blue furnishing. I have a grey driftwood four poster bed. The walls have the painting of the ocean. She barely glances around, but shaking like a leaf. Her breathing is shallow like a scared rabbit. I want her to feel at ease. I let go of her removing my watch. I put it on the dresser. I then take my jacket off, and put it on the chair neatly and slowly. She doesn’t leave her gaze off of me. I’ll make a show of this then knowing full well how it will affect her. She looks at my white linen shirt and her eyes linger on my jeans. Her eyes travel to my torso and finally reaching my hair. I let my shirt loose over my jeans, my gaze meeting hers. I step down and take my sneakers off. Then very slowly remove my socks. She’s drinking me in. Once I take my socks off, I stand and gaze at her softly. I just remembered an important thing. I don’t want to knock her up on her first experience.
“You’re not on any sort of birth control, are you Anastasia?” I ask doubtful.
She blushes, “No,” she answers. I didn’t think so. I nod. I ask her if she prefers the blinds closed, she says she doesn’t care. She is so nervous, I don’t think she would answer any differently if I asked her to make love with me in the balcony. She then blurts out, “I thought you didn’t let anyone to sleep in your bed.”
Oh, I have other things in mind, and none of which involves sleeping. “I don’t think we’ll be ‘sleeping’,” I say giving her a wicked gleam.
She inhales sharply saying, ”Oh.”
Now or never. The expectation and anticipation is at the brim, and I’m ready to explode. I stroll towards her, my eyes ablaze. I can see her expectation, and desire hot. She looks up to me as I stand before her looking into her eyes. She’s incredibly beautiful in her innocence.
I want to peel her clothes off of her starting with the jacket. I softly indicate my intention, and slowly slide off the jacket building her anticipation. I slowly put it away. My gaze on her with desire. We’re locked.
“Have you any idea how much I desire you Anastasia?” I ask her, and I see her melt before me. I’m a fireball of desire for this beautiful girl. She’s beguiled me, hypnotized me, and bewitched me. I stare at her beautiful blue eyes fervently and lean down and kiss firmly and slowly at first. My kiss becomes expectant and demanding. When I release her desire is running amuck, and I’m hers. (I’m yours by Jason Mraz) I am completely, utterly, and hopelessly hooked on her.
I want to feel her, caressing her cheek, her lips and neck desire completely bubbling within me. I find myself whispering, “Do you have any idea at all how much I want to make love to you?”even surprising myself. I lean down and place kisses on her jaw, lips, neck as she closes her eyes in ecstasy. I pull her shirt and thug and peel it off of her. She’s standing before me in a light blue lacy bra and her black jeans like the image of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, but even more beautiful, innocent, and alluring. I drink her in. Her skin is so pale and so flawless, I want to kiss and touch each and every inch of it. When I make my intentions clear to her, she looks at me shy her eyes widening, her breath taking a sharp intake.
I touch her dark chestnut hair, and murmur, “I like brunettes.” I run my fingers through her hair, caress her cheeks with the tips of my fingers feeling the jolt between us once again. Her pull is inescapable. I can’t help myself and grasp her head steady in my palms and kiss her passionately, demanding. Forcing her lips apart, invading her mouth with my tongue. Her shy tongue finally meets and matches mine in their dance. I moan with passion. Squeeze her tight. My hand travels down to the small of her back pushing her close to my body willing her to merge with me, and explore her exquisite derriere squeezing it which she gives a surprised sound of liking. My erection is full, and it’s trying to push its way out of my jeans.
I lean over to kiss her again, she groans into my mouth, grasping my upper arms tight. Although touching is a hard limit for me I barely have time to think. Her hands move to my hair tugging me and surprisingly captivating, moving them to my face exploring the hills and the valleys of my face. The wait is just killing me and I make my decision to move forward. I push her towards the bed. She stands against the bed, I gaze at her beautiful body, move my fingers about her torso, her sides, and just drop on my knees grabbing her hips steadying her and move my tongue and lips on her navel at which time she gives a very audible moan. My lips move up and down and sideways travelling expertly nibbling, making her squirm.
Her hands move into my hair and thugs hard which is unbelievably erotic for her to respond to me that way. My gaze won’t leave her and we lock eyes though she time to time closes her eyes rolling her head back with an overflow of pleasure which fuels me even further. Her breathing matches mine in speed, our eyes scorching embers. I lean down and take one of her foot and start undoing her lace, and take the shoe off. I repeat the process with the next foot. I then slowly remove her socks off, eyes still locked. My hands leisurely travel up her jeans making strategic stops to rub on her thighs. I reach up to her zipper, and after undoing the top button, I zip her pants down. My hands skim inside her pants, and I expertly and slowly pull them down. Her breathing accelerates, eyes blue fires. I remove the jeans, and move my hands over her now bare legs.
My hands grasp her hips and I find my face buried in her apex inhaling scent to her very surprised and aroused face. I can’t help myself but tell her how good she smells. Her arousal is an intoxicating scent. She nearly convulses with my touch. I push her back onto the mattress. I grab her foot forcing her to watch me and run my thumbnail on her instep knowing its effects on her body. I give her a salacious smile without breaking my gaze from her intense stare, and run my tongue along her instep and taking her big toe into my mouth and sucking hard. I see her eyes rolled back into her head with a loud groan. I can make her come like this. The response makes me chuckle. She’s so ready for me.
My hands slowly move up her glorious legs. She’s only in her panties and bra. A beautiful specimen of woman. Innocent and shy before me.
Words escape me. “Anastasia, you’re gorgeous. I just can’t wait to be inside you,” I whisper. She is completely under my influence, and I am of hers. I ask her to show me how she pleasures herself. To my surprise she says she’s never done it. Oh, the possibilities. I guess we have to correct that problem. I undo my jean’s button and zip my jean down. I grab her ankles and quickly spread her legs apart crawling onto the bed between her glorious legs hovering over her. I hold her legs to warn her to keep still and breathe, “Steady Ana,” and gaze at her with passion. I start trailing kissing inside her thighs reaching up to her panties. She squirms under me.
“Oh, baby we have to teach you to be still,” I say, between my trailing kisses up her belly, her torso and up to her breast. She’s burning with desire for me clawing the sheets as I pull one of the lacy bra cups down. Her breast springs up, peaking its head under my gaze and I cup her breast inside my palm. I pull the other bra cup down as her other breast peaks itself up into a gorgeous fleshy mound. My hands knead over her breasts as we’re both lost in ecstasy, her nipples harden under my fingers. I lean my head over and glaze my tongue over one of her breasts then blow lightly over it. Her nipple responds hardening as my thumb grazes and pulls the other nipple. The thought of her never having an orgasm gives me an idea. All of a sudden I want to make her come like this, under my control, my gaze, and have her experience her first under my fingers. “I want to make you come like this,” I whisper to her. She’s breathless, and wordless. Her reaction is enough to undo me. My fingers and tongue work expertly over her nipples, sucking and kneading, and rolling over.
She’s arching her back in pleasure, and begs “Please, Christian..” moaning.
“Come on, baby, come for me! Let go!” I murmur as I close my teeth around her nipple and suck hard, as my thumb and forefinger grab the other nipple and knead and roll, and she shutters under my fingers and tongue as her orgasm ripples through her body arousing me so much I move to her lips and kiss her hard and deep, her moans lost in my mouth. My hands travel to her sides and torso, and through her breasts. She’s very responsive to my touch which pleases me but we need to work on controlling that, and I now know that I’m going to have a lot of fun teaching her that.
My hand travels down and around her lacy panties. My fingers rip through the delicate lace shredding it in one swift move. My index and middle finger find their way into her and the palm of my hand cover her clitoris pleasuring her. She is so wet and ready I just can't wait to be inside her finally. I pull the ripped panties off of her waist, pull my jeans and boxers off springing my erection in full. The sight of it makes her eyes widen.
My fingers move inside her feeling her wetness making me want to get inside her.“You’re incredibly wet Ana! Oh God! I want to be inside you right now!” Her eyes are desirous and scared with the size of my erection. I soothe her telling she expands inside as well. But I want her to want me, want to do this, and be sure of it. I still want her permission. I want her, I want her to want me. This is where she will cross the line. To my side. I want her so badly, it hurts! ( ET by Kathy Perry ft Kanye West)
“Are you sure Ana? Do you want to do this?”
“Yes Christian. Please! Don’t make me beg...” she says causing my undoing.
I pull her leg up for easy access and most feeling. I rip a condom package, squeezing the tip, roll it onto my length. My gaze is burning into hers, “I’m going to f*ck you hard now baby...” I say as I slam my length into her. She screams an involuntary “ah!” a pain pleasure. My erection rips through her virginity, and this is a first for me. All of a sudden I’m filled with a foreign feeling of complete and absolute proprietorship and I can’t, I won’t let go of her. She’s all mine, and no one else’s. My claim, my scent, my manhood is on her, claiming her, loving her, making love to her, f*cking her.
I slow down, and wait for her to adjust to the foreign feeling of having me inside her. I roll my hip once and slowly pull back and after locking gazes with her she nods, ready to receive me again. I slam into her once more, hard. She groans slowly expanding. I slow again, and look at her once more for approval. She’s desirous and ready and wanting for more. I want her verbal confirmation. I ask, “Again?”
“Please, yes!” she begs, and I pull back, gyrate my hips once more and slam and slam and slam into her repeatedly completely claiming her to be mine. All the way. In every way. All. Mine. We create our own rhythm and she learns to match mine her hips lifting up to match my thrusts. I lose myself in her, lowering myself to her face, grasp her face, my mouth invade hers kissing, taking no prisoners. I want her every way! Relentlessly. Our bodies fit perfectly, receiving and giving, and worshipping in desire and sex, covered in sheens of sweat and heat. Pleasure and tension building a new height. I am getting close and she is stiffening with building up tension of pleasure. “Come for me baby!” I growl, and with that we both come loudly.
“I... f*cking.... want... you! Oh Ana!” I yell, her name litany on my lips as I collapse on her worshipping her body. As the currents of pleasure still jolting through our bodies my breathing is still rugged and fast as is hers. I kiss her again once more as I pull out of her. She winces. I ask her if I hurt her. She’s blushing. Biting her lip.
“Answer me Ana,” I coax her. Running my finger on the lip she’s now biting, reminding her.
“I’ve, never... ever... felt this good, this ecstatic before...” she murmurs shyly. I grin. “Would you do it again?” I ask wanton.
“Most definitely...” she answers.
“Really?”I am pleased, “what a demanding little girl you are Ana,” I tease her. I turn her over and unhook her bra off. Run my fingers through her flawless skin. She notices my shirt still being on my back.
“Why do you still have your shirt on?” she quizzes. I don’t want to be touched, but I don’t want to bring that f*cked up side of me on her. I pull my shirt off remaining on her back side. I whisper to her ear with desire. “So Miss Steele, Would you like me to f*ck you again?” My fingers trail on her side and breasts, cupping her sex while my lips land trail of kisses on her ears and neck.
I’m not even nearly done with her. I hold her in place, and whisper her that I’m going to f*ck her from behind. I hold her leg up and ease into her in a smooth move, and pinning her between my hand and my body start moving, and claiming her once again. “You. Are.. Mine...” I pound into her. With each stroke I stake my claim, make her mine, and mark her with my scent, my body and my sex.
I move my finger over her clitoris while my sex is working its magic inside her.“Do you like this?” I ask her softly. My thumb and fingers in and out of her, she only moans in response. Once I withdraw my finger out of her, I make her open her mouth, and give her a taste of her own sex. She sucks my finger. Forcefully. And desires builds in to f*ck her in the mouth. I tell her that in between my thrusts. She’s spent, and wanting, and desirous, and I make this slow. I bury myself in and out of her slowly, deliberately, teasing, driving her crazy, leaving her wanting more. She feels so good! She’s ready to come, but I don’t want her to just yet. I need more. I haven’t had my fill of her.
“Slow baby..” I whisper, “Not yet...”
“Please Christian!” she begs.
“No baby! I want you sore. So sore, you will remember I was inside you each time you walk!” I say.
“Oh please. I’m coming apart in the seams!” she begs.
“What do you want baby! Tell me Ana!” as I move inside her.
“I want you!” she groans.
That’s my undoing. I increase my speed, circling my hips I slam into her faster and faster and faster until we both come loudly. “You! Are! Mine!” I growl as I reach my peak, and with my words, she quivers with pleasure, and we stay connected with aftershocks pulsing through us.
“Fuck Ana!” I say completed sated with pleasure. My first vanilla, and it was better than anything I had thought or hoped for. She’s my undoing, captivating, and this innocent girl who is falling asleep in my arms spent with my sex, and my conquest of her body and soul. She’s spent. She’s crossed sides, and I feel possessive of her now. I watch her peacefully sleeping tired face in sleep. Some unknown emotions creep up their way onto the surface. She’s mine! In every way. I can’t let go of her now. Her hands seek me in her sleep. I capture them and hold them in mine.
I don’t know how long I watch her sleep, but sadness finally creeps up in my chest. She’s too innocent. Is she ready for my world? I had a mix of emotions I’m feeling for her right this moment. Do I want to taint her with my dark soul? I don’t know where this mix of emotions are coming from. I’ve never felt this way towards anyone. Ever. I slowly place her arms on the bed and slowly slide out of the bed. Pull the duvet covers over her, finally pull my pajama bottoms up, and slowly and silently walk into the great room.
I sit at the piano, and absently start playing a piece from Chopin reflecting my forlorn mood. (Transcription by Bach). I play the song repeatedly as my mood won’t yield to happy thoughts. I feel her by the door standing before I even look at her. When I stop, she says “I’m sorry Christian... I,” she pauses, “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” quietly.
“I should be the one who is apologizing,” I say, “I woke you up. You should be in bed,” I say to her chiding. She asks me what I was playing, and I tell her it’s a piece from Bach. She wants to know how long have I been playing. I tell her since I was six.
I turn her and ask, “How do you feel?”
“I’m alright,” she answers.
“Come,”I take her hand, and walk her back to the bedroom. I pull the duvet cover back up, and see the blood, the proof of her lost virginity as a bare statement on my white sheets. She blushes, and lowers her gaze. I smile, that’ll give something to think about to my housekeeper Mrs. Jones tomorrow. I show her into the bed, and lie next to her. Once again I find myself happily breaking my rules for her.
I spoon her in bed, and sweetly whisper into her ear, “Sleep, baby, sleep,” (Lullaby by Dixie Chix) as we both close our eyes, and fall into a deep, peaceful sleep first time in a very very very long time.



I woke up as the morning sunlight from the Seattle skyline reached my eyes through my bedroom windows. But what woke me up first was the absence of Anastasia from my bed. As the realization of her absence dawns on me, I sit upright in my bed. Has she gone without telling me? Where would she go? I look around and locate her clothes, and find myself breathing a sigh of relief. How could I get used to her presence in my bed just by having her sleep with me twice? Oddly, I haven’t had nightmares about the crack whore and her pimp both times. Is it a fluke? I feel so much better, relaxed, and happy. Damn! She’s already gotten under my skin. I feel the urge to go and find and hold her. I slowly get up; put my pajama bottoms on, I still have my t-shirt on that I slept in. I locate her in the kitchen, making breakfast, with my iPod in the shirt pocket, ear buds plugged in her ears dancing away and cooking. Such joyful sight to behold! I’m completely enamored. I slowly make my way to one of the barstools, and sit watching her. She is completely unaware of my presence. She is in one of my t-shirts, bare foot, and she’s sporting a pair of pigtails making her look even younger and more innocent! I inwardly gasp... The sight of her carefree dancing while whisking eggs and cooking bacon brings out a feeling of hominess, and oddly a sense of comfort in me... of her belonging in my kitchen with her bare foot, with her just f*cked hair, and her youthful energy.

When she sees me sitting on the bar stool she freezes in her place, flushing. Then she gulps gathering herself, and slowly takes the ear buds off her ears. He innocent reaction does something to me, I want to grin like an adolescent boy.
“Good morning Miss Steele. You look very energetic this morning,” I say dryly correctly attributing it to our bed tango last night. (Spanish Tango from Zorro)
“I just slept well,” she stutters with a hidden smile. So, I am right!

“I can’t imagine why,” I say pausing and remembering what a relaxing sleep I’ve had, “So did I after I came back to bed,” I say still confused about it.

“Are you hungry?” she says, and this simple question by this beautiful innocent girl bare foot and in my t-shirt just brings up such powerful emotions in me I didn’t know I had. I can’t name them; they’re completely new to me. She has awakened all these foreign emotions in me I never knew I had, and they come to the surface with one of her looks, or her innocent questions, or just a simple touch. What is it about her that draws me? ( Hey Soul Sister by Train)
All I can manage is to say, “Very,”to her with an intense gaze, though the hunger I have is for her. She blushes.
“Bacon and eggs, and pancakes?” she asks shyly.
“Sounds great,” I manage to say.

All of a sudden she is looking around with barely contained desperation and flustered, “Uhm, I don’t know my way around your kitchen. Where do you keep your placemats?” she asks.
I smile, “I’ll do that while you cook. Would you like some music to continue your... err... dancing?”
She’s changing colors from crimson to puce looking at her knotted fingers. Then to make herself look occupied starts beating the eggs with a renewed purpose channeling all her energy into her task. It’s both amusing and incredibly hot to see her like that. I can’t help it but move closer to her and gently pull her pigtails.
“I love these,” I whisper, but with all the desire building up in me, a pair of girlie pigtails will not protect her from me, “but they won’t protect you,” I say into her ear. I’m dangerous to her. ( Dangerous by Michael Jackson) I hear a gasp as her whisking hand momentarily pauses.
“How would you like your eggs?” she asks tartly, and I smile.

“Thoroughly whisked and beaten,” I say, teasing her with a smirk. She tries to hide her smile. I find the drawer where Mrs. Jones, my housekeeper keeps the place mats, and take out two black place mats and place them on the breakfast bar. I watch her on my peripheral vision pouring eggs and turning the bacon over on the grill. God! Why is that so hot? My woman in my kitchen!
I pour orange juice for both of us and start making coffee for myself. But she likes tea.
“Anastasia, would you like some tea?”
“Yes please, if you have some,” she responds.
When I reach into the cupboard to pull out some Twinings English Breakfast tea, she narrows her eyes, and purses her lips. “Bit of a foregone conclusion, wasn’t I?” she asks.
“Are you? I’m not sure we’ve concluded anything yet Miss Steele,” I murmur. My contract is still standing unexplored, still subject to be signed, and we just changed the perimeters a little by our recent tryst. But there is still so much to go through my mind wonders. Negotiations are still open. She looks momentarily confused with my remark, but says nothing and turns to the refrigerator to bring out the maple syrup. When she turns, she sees me standing by the breakfast bar and waiting for her.
“Anastasia,” I motion her to one of the bar stools.
“Christian,” she nods, and climbs up on the stool but not before I notice her wincing. That sight makes me incredibly aroused. Yes baby! That’s where I’ve been, and I’ve claimed you. All me! I’ve never had a feeling of proprietorship of this sort before. This is another first for me.
“Just how sore are you?” I find myself asking as I sit next to her, my eyes dark with desire. She blushes, and changes colors, finally narrows her eyes. God! Why is her reaction so hot? But she still answers me a little irritated by my intimate question. I want to be her first and her last. ( Save the Last Dance for Me by Drifter)

“Well Mr. Grey,” she snaps, “I’ve nothing to compare the feeling to, no reference points,” she glares at me, but her demeanor changes to sweet and adds, “would you like to offer your personal commiserations?” She is sweet, and hot, and playful, and all mine. I try to stifle a smile, but it’s too hard to do with her proximity.
“No,” I answer, and add with desire in my voice and eyes, “I was wondering if we should continue with your basic training.”
Her fork stalls in the mid-air, she stares at me in astonishment, her breathing stalled, eyes wide, barely making an audible gasp of “oh!” God! Will I ever get enough of her surprising responses?
She’s immobile. I coax her, “eat, Anastasia.” She continues to stare at me with a different kind of hunger. She wants me. But I love to build expectation. The end result is so much better for both of us.
“This is delicious by the way,” I say indicating more than the omelet she’s made, grinning at her. She takes a bite of hers, her eyes on me, hardly eating, and absently biting that delectable lip again. Argh! I can’t take it, “Please stop biting your lip Anastasia. It’s very distracting. And since I know you’re not wearing anything under my t-shirt, I am beyond distracted,” I growl. ( Sway by Michael Buble) 
She frees her lip from the captivity of her teeth, and I sigh. She takes her tea bag out of the wrapper and dunks it into the hot water in her tea cup taking it out momentarily.
Without taking her eyes from her teacup, she asks in an excited high voice she is barely able to disguise, “Uhm, what kind of basic training are we talking about?” I can feel her breathing increases, and though she tries to sound nonchalant, and disinterested, I can feel the heat rising between us. She rubs her legs together absently, tightening and pressing into each other to suppress her rising passion, and I know she is feeling a pull in her groin. Her body is like a book for me to read which I got to study very well in the past two days. I love that about her!
She tries to act natural and calm. Stirs her tea, and raises it up to her lips to taste. Her eyes close briefly, to collect herself. She doesn’t lower the teacup. It hovers in close proximity of her lips. She lightly blows on her tea trying to distract her mind, and as she reaches her lips back to her teacup again, I speak:
“Well,” I say, “since you are sore,” remembering where I’ve been, my voice too rises with desire, “I thought we could stick to oral skills.”
She chokes on her tea! When she manages to collect herself she turns and stares at me with her beautiful blue eyes wide, her mouth agape. Her reaction arouses me beyond belief, but I pat her back till she stops choking, and pass her the orange juice to drink. I don’t know what that reaction means exactly. Does she want to stay? Does she want to leave? I hope she stays, but I don’t want to make her. It has to be her decision. I need to confirm that, and add, “that is, only if yo wish to stay Ana.”
She looks up at me trying to gauge my expression. I don’t want to give anything away. I like her too much, and I don’t want to influence her decision. I want her, and I want to be selfish, but not when it comes to her. It has to be her decision, and not my influence. I owe her that. She looks exasperated and frustrated without being able to read me. She closes her eyes for a brief moment, and opens them again.
She finally speaks, “I’d like to stay for today Christian. That is if it’s okay with you,” she says, going in the same mode she was in last night, not wanting wear out her welcome her face says. She adds, “But I have to go to work tomorrow.”
“What time do you need to be at work?” I ask.
“Nine a.m.” she says.
“I can get you to work by nine a.m.” I say. She frowns.
“I need to go home tonight, so I can change. I don’t have any clean clothes here,” she says. I don’t want her to go especially because of a non-issue like clothes. We can get her clothes here. I can send Taylor to get her some right away should she so desire.
“We can get you some clothes here,”I say not wanting her to leave tonight. I need her here. I want her here. I desire her here. What the hell is wrong with me?
She’s mulling that over, but worried about something. In goes her lips back into the captivity of her teeth again. It’s too distracting for me. I reach and thug her chin and release her lip. I know she is thinking and worried about something. I want to know. “What is it?” I ask. I don’t do well with worry.
She closes her eyes and says, “I need to be home this evening.”
I don’t like the idea. I don’t like to be contradicted. But she hasn’t signed the contract to surrender her will over to me, so I say nothing. My mouth a hard line in an effort to try to conceal my anger and discomfort.
“Alright, this evening then,” I acquiesce. “Please eat your breakfast,” I order. But she isn’t eating. She doesn’t eat much, and that bothers me. I remind her that she hasn’t eaten last night. She needs to eat her breakfast.
“I’m not hungry,” she whispers. That will not do. I narrow my eyes on her focusing, and trying to exert, no, force my will, “I really want you to finish your breakfast,” I enunciate. I have hard time when people waste food when so many people around the world go hungry. I was one of them. I can’t help it!
“What is it with you and food?” she says exasperated. I scowl, my face changing.
“I have issues with wasted food Anastasia! Eat, now!” I order. She turns to her food, and picks up her food, starts eating, very slowly. Her effort makes me happy. She’s like a small child sometimes. But, I’m glad that she hasn’t lived through what I have. I’m glad she was never left hungry. My expression softens with sudden relief. I finish my food before she does, and watch her eat. When she finally eats enough, I pick her plate and clear it. I tell her that since she cooked, I would clear even though it isn’t my style to do so. I find myself doing things I wouldn’t normally do when I’m with her.
“When I’m done, we’ll take a bath,”I tell her.
“Oh, okay,” she responds surprised.

When her cell phone rings, she answers the call.

“Hi,” she answers shyly, and walks to the balcony for some privacy. My eyes follow her like a hawk, jealousy rising in me. Is it the photographer? Or the f*cker from the store, the owner’s brother? My eyes narrow. I don’t share! But I hear the name, “Kate” from her. It’s the roommate. I give a sigh of relief. But I want to make sure that she doesn’t talk about us to her. I continue picking up the kitchen. She comes back after her conversation is over. She’s hesitant. Does she want to go?
“Uhm, Christian? Does the uhm, NDA cover everything?” Is she unhappy about something? My gaze narrows as I ask,“why?” while still continuing with my task at hand. I close the pantry door after putting away the tea, and turn to her to give my full attention.
“Because,” she sighs, “I have a few questions,” lowering her gaze shy, “you know, about sex. And I was hoping to ask Kate about ‘em.” She wrings her fingers and turns her hands over as if some secret answer is written on them. My gaze softens, and I slowly tell her, “You can ask me your questions Ana.” I want to be her only teacher. I can’t help it.
“Christian, I can’t... I mean, with all due respect...” she drifts looking away. She sighs.
“You’re too involved. I’ll just ask about the mechanics. And I won’t mention the Red Room of Pain,” she says quickly.
That surprises me. I never thought of my Playroom as a place for pain.
“Red Room of Pain? Is that what you think of it? It’s mostly about pleasure Ana. Believe me,” I find myself saying. She has misconceptions, and I feel they should be corrected. “Besides,” I say knowing my tone is harsher, “your roommate is making the beast with two backs with my brother. I’d rather you didn’t ask her.” I don’t want her running and telling Elliot about our ‘arrangement’. I want to keep my private life private even from my own family. It’s none of their business.
As if on cue, Anastasia asks, “Does your family know about your... um, proclivity to...?” drifting off, finally adds,“to your chosen lifestyle?”
“No. Of course not! It isn’t any of their business.” I stroll over to her, and stand before her. If she has any questions, I want to be the one to answer them. I want to be the only teacher, only instructor, only participant, the only lover she has. I raise my hand and caress her face with my fingers. She lowers her gaze again, and I want to see those beautiful eyes. I want to know what she’s thinking. My fingers drift to her chin and I lift her face up rather forcefully. I want her to look into my eyes. I want us to be connected.
“What do you want to know Anastasia?” I ask intently. I want to be the one to give her the answers. She squirms under my gaze.
“Nothing in particular for the moment,” she whispers barely audible.
“In that case, let me start by asking you this question. How was last night for you?” I want to know. Very, very badly. She’s my first virgin. First vanilla. First in my bed. First just to sleep next to. First in my helicopter. She is many firsts for me, and I want to know what she feels about me. Profoundly... I’m anxious to know. My eyes are embers burning with intent and full of desire.
She has awe in her eyes. She whispers, “Good.” Her affirmation somehow pleases me and makes me happy. I feel a smile creeping up on my lips, but I suppress it.

“Me too,” I murmur. “I’ve never had vanilla sex before. It’s a lot more than I expected,” I say absently, “but maybe, it’s because it was you. Because I was with you to experience it with.”My fingers trail her chin, her jaw line finally stopping on her lower lip.

Her inhale is sharp and sweet. Desire builds up on me. I must have her again. Now!

“Come, let’s have a bath,” I say leaning down and kissing her. I can feel the desire building up in her. Our kiss deepens. Ugh. I have to have her. I pull her hand, saying, “Come with me. Please...”

I pull her into my large master bathroom. I leave her hand momentarily filling the large white stone designer bath. It’s not just a bath, but it’s an egg shaped mission statement. I fill it up with hot water, and pour some bath oil into the water. Once I’m done drawing the bath, I stand and gaze at her, my eyes filled with desire for her. She, a shy girl, her eyes cast on the floor once again. How enticing, and captivating she is!

“Anastasia,” I say pulling her out of her mood, and extend my hand to her. She’s by the doorway. Wary. Her arms wrapped around herself protectively. Her blue eyes wide. My hand remains extended to her. She slowly makes her way to me. Her breathing is shallow. Finally comes before me and takes my hand. I walk her into the bathtub still in my t-shirt.

“Turn around and face me,” I order her softly. She does, and I sigh with this innocent beauty before me who is biting her lip again. I groan with desire.

“Oh Ana, I know that lip is delectable as I’ve tasted it and can’t get enough of it, but would you please stop biting it? It’s so distracting.” I clench my teeth. Her gaze changes to one of confusion. I sigh, “When you chew your lip, it makes me want to f*ck you, and you’re still sore, okay?” ( Ring of Fire by Joaquin Phoenix)

Her gasp is making me full of desire, she released her lip, and her jaw drops open in shock with her eyes wide. “Yeah!” I say with her expression, “that’s right! You got the picture!”

I take the iPod out of the breast pocket of the t-shirt. Then I grasp the hem of the t-shirt and lift it off her and toss it to the floor.

I gaze at her beautiful body.“Birth of Venus” before me, more beautiful than Botticelli envisioned and painted. She flushes redder than the Chinese flag staring down. I want her to be comfortable with her body, not shy, and certainly not embarrassed. It’s a body to be glorified, worshipped even like the Greek Goddess Aphrodite.

I pull her chin up forcing her to look at me. “Hey,” I say softly. “You should never be embarrassed of your body. You’re a very beautiful woman, a complete package. I hate to see you hanging your head in shame. You have nothing, and no one to be ashamed of. Least of all me. So, don’t. Okay?” I say softly.

I hold her hand, and sit her down. She winces as her glorious derriere I’ve claimed last night merges into the water remembers its experience, and making her slightly uncomfortable. Good! She’s sore. A reminder of where I’ve been, and I’m the one who staked a claim on her. The warm water finally soothes her, and she relaxes. I watch her every move, unable to do anything else.

She finally gazes up and huskily asks me, “Will you not join me Christian?” I smile. Oh, yes I will.

“Move forward,” I order, “I shall join you,” I say. Gladly. I take my pajama pants off, taking my shirt off over my head and climb in the bathtub. I sit behind her, and place my legs over hers fixing her in place. I place my knees over hers placing my ankles inside of her legs. Then I pull my legs apart which in return force her legs apart. She gasps making me smile. My nose in her hair smelling her beautiful womanly scent.
“You smell wonderful Ana,” I say inhaling her deeply with desire building inside me.
Her body shakes with tremors with her passion rising. I reach to a nearby shelf containing bath salt, body wash, shampoo and bath oil. I take the body wash squirting some in my hand. I then wet my other hand and rub my hands together creating a soft foaming lather. I then close my hands around her neck and shoulders working my way down. Massaging, and working my magic into her muscles. She arches her head back in pleasure and moans under my touch, firming my erection. I smile with desire for her.
“Do you like that?” I whisper in her ear.

“Hmm,” is the response I get, completely laden with pleasure.

My finger expertly moved down to her sides, her underarms washing, rubbing, gliding. My fingers work their way to her breasts cupping and circling at first. Then I start kneading her nipples first gently, then expertly elongating them in my fingers. I know she is sore from last night, and I love to linger more, but I want to be everywhere all at once. I slide my finger down to her belly and navel. She takes a sharp intake of breath as her breathing gets faster. I can feel her hummingbird of a heart trying to escape her chest. I can feel it on my own chest loud enough. It gives me a jolt of pleasure as our connection provides a steady current of electricity. My erection is on her back, a mighty length. She pushes herself against it. She wants me. A lot! I can make her come like that. The thought gives me a lot of ideas. I love teaching her! ( Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns ‘n Roses)
I take the washcloth, and squirt body wash on it. She’s already panting, her hands grasping my thighs firmly reminding me the way she clawed the sheets last night, and I’m filled with a salacious desire for her. I slowly and purposefully take the washcloth to her sex, and start rubbing her slowly through the washcloth. My fingers start stimulating her through the washcloth. Her breath hitches and then gains speed as if she can’t get enough air into her lungs. She is incredibly responsive to my touch!
As the sensation builds she arches her back, her head rolling on my chest, and her mouth O shape gasping for more. I whisper, “feel it baby,” in her ear as my teeth graze her earlobe. She’s over the top, begging, “Please... Christian!” her legs stiffening, her arched back rigid trying to absorb and control the feeling, her approaching orgasm is my cue to stop here with a smile, and breathe into her ear, “I think you got clean enough,” she gasps. “What? Why? What are you stopping for?” she says making me grin.
“Because,” I kiss her neck, “I have other plans for you,” whispering into her ear.
“Now, turn around. I need washing as well,” giving her a salacious grin. Time to do meet and greet. She turns and faces me.
My erection is in my grasp, and I see her mouth drops open seeing the size of my length.
“Anastasia,” I say, “I want you to be well acquainted with my most favorite body part, on first name basis if you will. I’m quite attached to this part of mine, and I want you to as well.”
Her slight movement laps the water around my length which is substantially peaking its head above the water. She swallows. Then she smiles mischievously taking my breath away, taking the body wash squirts some into her palm. She makes a show of lathering the soap in her hand; her lips are parted, breathing heavily. And she bites her lip! Damn! Making me wanton and putty in her inexperienced but desirous fingers. All of a sudden she reaches forward, and places her hands around my arousal; her movements mirror my earlier movements on my length. When her fingers close around me, my hands reach around hers, my breath hitches in my throat, my eyes closing. When I open them again, I’m desirous for her touch, hungry and yearning for her. My hands move along with hers, and when she gets her movements down, I release my hands off hers.
“That’s right, baby,” I encourage her. Her fingers move up and down, up and down gradually grasping my sex tighter, making me groan. F*ck! She’s a fast learner, and she’s great! My head tilts back, my eyes closes with pleasure. The next thing she does completely shocks me. I feel her lips closing on my length and my head snaps up, my eyes wide open in shock. She never ceases to amaze me, and shocks me at every turn. One so young to do be so willing to learn and participate! I’m at an awe of her. My mouth opens slightly with pleasure. My breathing accelerates. She leans forward her eyes closed, her hair cascading over my manhood as her lips close and continue to suck, her tongue running and brushing over my tip.
Oh God! I grip the sides of the bathtub with all my strength, and yell, ”Whoa... Christ, Ana!”
She moves her head up and down, sheathing my length to the hilt, completely shocking me! F*ck! Doesn’t she have any gagging reflexes? She is f*cking me with her mouth! That is beyond f*cking sexy! My eyes open, and my breathing is hard. She pushes me deeper and deeper, and moves up and down. Her thighs are flush against my legs. My hands clench and my legs tenses with pleasure.
“Oh... baby... This... Is... Incredible...” I say. She shows her white teeth wrapped around my length briefly and sheaths it all the way, making me gasp, “Jesus Christ, Ana! How deep can you go?” I whisper.
She comes back up and her tongue expertly, expertly licks and swirls around my tip like she would a cone of ice cream. My carnal desire builds up in me, and I can’t hold it any longer.
“Anastasia, if you don’t stop right now, I’m going to come in your mouth baby!” I growl through my gritting teeth. My hips flex with her mouth’s movements, and I need her. I need this! Damn! She won’t stop. Shit!
I grip her hair as she shoves my penis deeper into her mouth; I came loudly into her mouth. To my utter surprise she swallows everything I have to give her. I cry out finally stilling in her mouth. Jolts of pleasure still going through my entire body... I look at this beautiful woman in awe and I have the strangest emotion, attachment that got forged with this woman. I think I may be in love with her. F*ck! No! That isn’t right. I don’t do love. Passion, desire, infatuation, reverence even. But not love. “It’s not love!” my subconscious tells me. Definitely not! Christian Grey doesn’t do love!
She opens her eyes, wiping her lips with her tongue as I glare at her. Damn! I want her even more. I move towards her, slushing the water out of the bathtub, and capture her mouth with mine, kissing her and tasting myself in her mouth. I’ve claimed her and now she’s claimed me! I’m f*cking lost in her! Lost without her!
When I pull away, I’m awed, and say, “Christ, Ana... that was... great, unexpected, but great.” I breathe. “You confound me! Completely amaze me!” I say with admiration in my eyes. She smiles, and I feel a pang of jealousy. Shit! Has she done this before for some f*cker? I want to know.
“Have you done this before?” I ask speculatively.

“Nope.” She smiles. “You’re my first.” I sigh, “Good.” I say, more than relieved. She’s mine in every way, and no one has claimed her, but me.
“Yet another first, Miss Steele,” I say. “You deserve an ‘A’ in oral skills. Come to bed with me, I owe you an orgasm.”
I get out of the bath, and quickly wrap a towel around my waist. I take her hand, and as she rises out of the bath with water slowly cascading down from her breasts to her torso and legs, she’s like an angel rising out of water. Completely lovely. ( Angel by Sarah McLachlan)
I take another warmed fluffy towel wrapping her in it, and then I can’t contain myself and pull her into my arms kissing her fervently. My tongue invading her mouth, our tongues meet again and start their dance. I’m completely enthralled by this woman. I want her. I need her. I can’t let go of her. I can’t get enough of her... I have to have her in my life.
I look at her almost begging, “Please say yes,” I say. ( Just Say Yes by Snow Patrol)
She frowns not understanding.
“Yes to what?”

“Say yes to our arrangement. To being mine. Please baby! Please Anastasia!” I say fervently, pleading. I gaze into her eyes again, taking her into my arms, and start kissing her again, passionately, and slowly. Savoring her. I take her hand and lead her back to the bedroom. She follows me.
I stare at this beauty before me. I thank whatever Gods may be for sending this woman to my office.
“Trust me?” I ask her suddenly. She nods, and her gaze is serene, trusting, and something else I can’t put a name in.
“Good girl,” I breathe, brushing her bottom lip with my thumb. I go to my closet, open the drawer where I keep my ties. I locate a silver silk tie, and pull it out. I come back out with it. Yes, this will do for a restraint.
“Knit your hands together in front of you,” I order peeling the towel wrapping her body off. She’s before me with her glorious nakedness like goddess Aphrodite. ( She’s So High by Tal Bachman)

When her hands are knitted before her, I bind her wrists together with my silver tie, knotting it firmly. I’m aroused, and beyond wildly excited and what’s more, she’s willing to play with me! I tug at the binding, finding it secure. Her pulse is through the roof her heart is trying to escape her chest. My fingers glide over the pigtails. I caress her hair for a minute and murmur, “you look so young with these.” I walk her back until her knees are backing the bed. My towel’s off, my gaze on her, my expression full of desire. “Oh Ana!” I gasp, “Do you know how much I desire you?” Her eyes wide, she lightly shakes her head. I close my eyes, “most ardently!” I whisper.

“What shall I do to you baby?” I whisper lowering her to the bed. I lie beside her and raise her hands above her head. I don’t like being touched, and this way I keep her hands securely away from my torso, and also build expectation. It gives me control, and it return it arouses me immensely.
“Keep your hands up here, and don’t move them, do you understand?” I implore her. She’s breathless, excited, aroused, and speechless.
“Answer me,” I command.
“I won’t move them,” she breathes.
“Good girl,” I whisper. My tongue deliberately travels over my upper lips grazing while my eyes fixed on her. She watches me breathless and intent. I lower myself and give her a small but expectant kiss on her lips.
“I am going to kiss you Anastasia...”I softly breathe, “all over you...” I enunciate and start with her chin. She rolls her head back and I move down her throat, kissing, nibbling, sucking. I feel her body jolting with pleasure, expectation, and desire... all over. Her body temperature rises as blood rushes to the surface of her skin. She rubs her legs together with the built up intensity and desire. She groans making me wanton.
Her hands move towards my hair. I know she wants to touch me, but I won’t be touched. I stop and give a warning glare and shake my head a firm “no”. My hand reaches up and places her hands above her head again. “If you move your hands, I will start all... over... again,” I warn teasing.

She wants to touch me, but, it’s my hard limit. I tell her to keep the hands above her head.
I start kissing from her chin and neck again. My hands move over her breast while my lips move south creating a path, kissing and nipping. My lips finally reach her nipples. I close my lips around one and start sucking. She’s having a hard time keeping her hands above, but manages. She’s squirming and ready to have me, but I warn her against moving. My lips finally reach to her navel. My tongue dips into it and she groans as her body arches. She’s turning me on big time. “You are incredibly sweet Anastasia,” I say as my nose grazes over her abdomen.

My fingers travel down to her belly and then reach over her pubic hair. My lip reaches down gently teasing her. I then sit up and grasp both her legs, and spread them apart. I take her left foot after bending the knee and start sucking the big toe watching and gazing at her. Then I bite lightly on each and every toe, and on the little toe, I bite harder and suck. She nearly convulses with pleasure. My lips travel on her instep, and my tongue teases along the way. She is barely containing herself, ready to combust trying to absorb all the sensation tingling through her body. I don’t want her to come like this. My lips travel down from her calf up to her knees but I don’t move further. I move onto her right foot and repeat the same process seductively. Her eyes roll back into her sockets, her back arches, and she groans and starts begging, “Please, Christian!”

“All on its good time, baby,” I breathe. When my lips reach her knees, I don’t stop there this time, and my lips move up on her thigh. I push them apart. My lips expertly traveling up. I repeat the process on her other knee and move up on the other leg, sucking, kissing, licking, nipping softly and gently. When I reach up to her sex, I run my nose through it softly, and blow lightly. She writhes with pleasure.

I need her to relax, and that is something I need to teach. I wait for her to calm down. My nose goes down to her sex again and I inhale her deep. She is beyond aroused with my action, and I softly ask her “do you know how intoxicating your scent is Anastasia?” I blow lightly on her sex again.
My fingers pull her pubic hair. It pleases me, perhaps we can keep that.
She begs, “Please Christian, I’m ready to combust! Oh, please...”
I smile. Her begging is intoxicating for me.
“I love it when you beg me Miss Steele,” I say.
I blow at her sex again. “Normally Anastasia, I don’t always reciprocate as it’s not my style, but...” I pause, “but you pleased me immensely, so I will reward you in kind,” and I shall be so pleased to do it. My tongue starts moving on her clitoris expertly. Her first oral experience and she bows and convulses under my tongue.
I swirl my tongue round and round, without stopping. She’s going rigid under my tongue and lips. I slip my middle finger inside her, and feel her so incredibly wet. Oh f*ck! She’s so ready for me! I groan as my lips and tongue start moving again. She’s begging and crying out. Finally climaxing. This is the part of the tango we dance together. ( Tango in Love from the Mask of Zorro) I rip a condom, and squeezing the tip roll it onto my length, and ease into her. I know she’s sore, but I am full of desire for her as I know she is for me right this moment. But I don’t want to hurt her. I want to please her as she pleased me.
“How’s this?” I breathe.
“Fine, good,” she whispers. I start moving first slow, and then picking up speed, fast and hard thrusts again and again and again. We’re both close to tip over the edge again, and I breathe harshly “come for me baby,” into her ear as we both reach our peak, exploding.
“F*ck!” escapes my lips and my muscles go rigid as I collapse on to Anastasia. I claimed her once again, covering her, inhaling her scent, both physically and emotionally. I don’t want to leave the enclosure we have for each other, me, encompassing her, covering, uniting, and she fitting me perfectly and conquering the depths of my being without even knowing. I don’t want to ever let go of her. Not ever. I remain atop her, and gaze into this beautiful, magical young woman in awe, my gaze intense, seeking the depths of her, imploring to be with me. Always.
“See how good we are together Ana,”I say with strange emotions coursing through me. I want her to submit herself to me. In all things. Be mine, without questioning. ( Surrender by Elvis Presley)
“Please Ana. I want you to give yourself to me, it will be so much better. Would you trust me Ana? I can take you to places you don’t even know exist!” Her expression is desirous, curious, wanting. I rub my face and nose on hers. Her expression is one of ecstasy and still reeling into consciousness. When we were still wrapped with each other, we hear a commotion and noises outside.
If he’s still in bed, he must be ill. Christian is never in bed this late. He’s an always been an early riser. He never sleeps in!” says a female voice.
“Mrs. Grey, please.” Taylor pleads.
“Taylor!” says a scornful voice. “You can’t keep me from my son!”
“Mrs. Grey, please. He’s not alone in his room! I implore you!”

“What exactly do you mean he isn’t alone, Taylor?”

“He’s with someone.”
“Oh...” I hear disbelief in her voice. Of course disbelief. She always thought I was a celibate gay. Oh, how great would it be to prove her wrong!
I’m bewildered but collect myself, and amused. Will my firsts ever cease with her? My mom showing up here is so beyond horrible, it just makes it funny.
“Shit! It’s my mother!” I say, and pull out of Anastasia.
Well, time for another meet and greet for Miss Steele. With my mother this time.



After sitting up, I roll the condom off and toss it into the wastebasket slam dunk. I turn to Anastasia who is looking at me half surprised, half horrified about the arrival of my mother and I can see that she’s thinking what my mother would think of her here in my bed.
I give her a wicked grin and say, “Come on baby, we need to get dressed – you will be meeting my mother.” I jump off the bed, and pull my jeans on commando. Anastasia in the other hand is still spent in the bed, struggling to move off her spot because her hands are still tied. She finally gives up and says,“Christian, I can’t move...” looking at me bewildered.
I grin as wide as possible, and untie her hands, though I would have loved to play with her a little longer. Later perhaps... I like the thought of her tied up, in my bed, and at my beckoning. It's incredibly hot! And since she struggled to touch me often, the tie marked her wrists in pink. The look of it is sexy as hell and a total turn on for me. Damn! I gaze at it for a minute, but I don’t want to get a hard on before I go see my mother and introduce the woman in my bed to her. I lightly kiss her, and smile. I gaze away and close my eyes for a minute. I don’t have time to f*ck her again... Not when my mother is waiting in the living room. I’m going to have her meet my mother. I never made an attempt to introduce any woman to anyone in my family and she's already met my brother and now this. She’s my first. Oddly, I want to introduce Anastasia. There is also some weird notion of pride. It's not just my conquest of her. It's also something else. Then again, I’ve claimed her every way possible; this would be laying another claim on her. I like the thought.
“Another first,”I acknowledge. I point her to the drawers and tell here that there are clean clothes she can use. Her eyes go wider in panic. Since I know that I’m the first man in her life, she’s never really met anyone’s mother in the position of a lover.
“Maybe I should stay here,” she says completely crimson with embarrassment since my mother practically walked in on us.
“Oh, no, you don’t!” I threaten her. “Find something out of my drawers, and put something on.” I put a white t-shirt on, and run my fingers through my just fucked hair, and I’m ready to greet my mother, but I want Anastasia to come out. I have this compelling desire to show her off, wear her on my sleeve almost. I shake my head at the feeling. Anastasia on the other hand still perched on the bed, and looking like a scared rabbit. Concerned.
“Baby you can wear a sack and pull it off. Just put anything of mine, and come out within five minutes,” I say softly and sweetly. “But if you’re not out within that time frame, I will drag you out to meet her even if you don’t have anything on,” my voice threatens her. She narrows her gaze. I point at the drawer where I keep the t-shirt, and tell her that the shirts are in the closet. I indicate five minutes with my right hand to her with a warning look. Damn, I want her to meet my mom! With a final glance I look at her my gaze softening, as hers narrows, and I want to jump at her with that glare; it is so damn hot, instead I smile at her tenderly. Because Mrs. Grey is waiting in the living room; the sooner I go, the better.
I close my bedroom door behind for her to get ready and walk into the living room. My mother is standing with Taylor in the living room. When she sees me I can see the gleam in her eyes, questioning and very curious.
I walk to her and give a curtly kiss her on the cheeks. We don’t touch. She understood I don’t like to be touched, and she hasn’t since childhood. “Hello mother,” I say politely.
“Hello Christian,” she says speculatively. She is uneasy and I can guess why. She thinks I have a guy here in my bed. How little she knows me when it comes to my private life. She tries to continue nonchalantly, “Well, I haven’t seen you for two weeks, and I was getting worried about you. So, I came by to see if you would like to go to lunch with me?” she says making it sound like a question.
“Thank you mother,” I say, “I would have loved to but, ah, I have plans for the day. I have company.” Curiosity rises in her eyes, but she’s polite, and waiting for me to explain. My mother is an impeccably dressed woman who is sporting her camel colored fine knit sweater dress with matching shoes. She’s well groomed and manicured as always. Her light make-up is in place, and her hair is in a neat chignon as if she left the beauty salon few minutes ago.
“I have someone special here with me,” I say to my mother eyeing her speculatively, examining her expression. “You will meet her in a few minutes,” I say, as I politely as I lead her to the large sofa to sit on.
My mother’s response is automatic and surprised, turning her head to me her eyes wide with excitement “Her?” she says.
Of course that’s what she would say knowing full well that she assumed I was a celibate gay. I’m looking forward to disproving her...With Miss Anastasia Steele at that! I can’t wait to see my mother’s expression when she sees Anastasia. As if on cue, Anastasia emerges from my bedroom wearing her own shirt from the night before, her jeans, and her Converse shoes. Her jacket is smartly covering the ligature marks left by my silver silk tie on her wrists. Smart girl! Her hair is tied in a ponytail, but she still couldn’t disguise it from screaming just fucked. I like that! A lot... Somehow, I have a certain pleasure introducing her to my mother as if securing another claim on her.
When I see her emerge from my bedroom, I feel a certain desire for her all over again, and I stand up to meet her and say, “Here she is,” to my mother my voice strangely tinged with pride and that is reflected in my warm and appreciate smile for Anastasia. God! She looks wonderful! Would I ever get enough of her?
As soon as I get up and turn my gaze towards Anastasia, my mother turns her head in the direction of my bedroom door, and I can see the appreciative gleam in her eyes. But they also contain some hidden relief in them. She must have thought I’d remain single all my life. If she only knew! When Anastasia gets closer to me, I extend my hand and reach her, and hold the small of her back as I pull her closer to me. My mother’s eyes miss nothing, and I can see that she’s noting everything in a barely contained excitement to convey her introduction to Anastasia to the rest of the family. I see that Elliot hasn’t seen them yet to talk about Ana and I. This thought warms my eyes, “Ana and I” as in “us.” I shake my head inwardly, and turn to my mother and formally introduce her.
“Mother, this is Anastasia Steele. Anastasia, this is my mother Grace Trevelyan-Grey.”
When my mother proffers her hand out to Anastasia, she behaves like any mother whose son just introduced his first girl saying, “What a pleasure to meet you Anastasia!” in all her sincerity completely gushing. In fact, she’s beaming with delight like a new mother whose baby said his first word or took his first step! Well, in a way, it is my first step. She’s meeting a woman in my life, or I hope to keep in my life for the first time. Ever! There is a lot to be said about it, and her reaction makes me inwardly happy, but I hide my smile.
Anastasia reaches out and accepts my mother’s hand and says, “Dr. Trevelyan-Grey,” acknowledging her shyly. My mother too looks stunned by this shy beauty. I don’t know what she was expecting, maybe a flamboyant boyfriend? That showed her! But what she finds in Anastasia is a stunning, unassuming shy beauty and Dr. Grey is beyond pleased to meet her. To my surprise, my professional, no nonsense mother gushes at Anastasia and says,“Please, call me Grace,”I frown. She’d never allow someone she just met to call her by her first name. She’s not cold, but she usually is distant and mostly professional. Then she adds, “I’m usually Dr. Trevelyan to my patients, and obviously they call my mother in law Mrs. Grey. I’m Grace to my friends,” she beams, and winks! At Anastasia! What is it with her that captivates everyone she meets?
She turns and addresses her question to both of us her eyes alight with uncontained curiosity, “So, how did you two meet?” Geez mother! I answer her.
“Anastasia interviewed me for the WSU student paper. That’s how we met, and I will be conferring degrees this week.”
“Will you also be graduating this week Anastasia?” my mother turns and asks her.

“Yes,” she answers softly. Her cell phone rings, and she excuses herself to answer her phone. My eyes fixed on her with barely contained jealousy. Who is calling her? She answers saying, “Kate?” as she walks away for relative privacy, but not before I catch her saying, “Look Jose, now is not a good time.”
Fuck! That, would-be rapist fucker is calling her. Why won’t he leave her alone? My mother is saying something, but I can’t concentrate. My mind is reeling. She moves by the balcony, and I watch her every step like a predator to prey, my eyes narrowing.
“Christian?” my mother says.
“I’m sorry mother. What were you saying?”
“She’s beautiful! I like her a lot!” she gushes which momentarily distracts me because I’ve never seen her barely contain herself before. I give her a polite smile which doesn’t reach my eyes.
“Thank you,” I say politely, still gazing at Anastasia whisper on the phone. I have to let her know that I don’t share, and I don’t want her seeing other guys. I claimed her, and I don’t want anyone else stake claims on her. She’s mine! She has to be mine. God! I can’t contain this jealousy in me! I want to just send my mother off and take her again, so she knows who she belongs to. She’s mine!
How long will she talk to him? Hang up already! Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me? When she finally gets him off the phone with her, I slowly breathe out a sigh of relief my eyes still fixed on her. She walks back to me as my mother is muttering something about Elliot.
“...anyway, Elliot called and said you were around... I haven’t seen you for two week darling.”
Elliot called, huh? Did he tell her about Anastasia? Is that why she’s here?
Did he now?” I murmur, still gazing at Anastasia without giving anything away to either of them. My passive face is in place.
My mother continues to speak to me. “As I said earlier, I wanted to see if you wanted to have lunch with me since you were in town, but I see that you have other plans,” she says smiling. “I don’t want to interrupt your plans,” she says gathering her coat, and getting ready to leave still smiling and offering me her cheek for a kiss. I kiss my mother briefly.
“It was great seeing you mother, but I have to drive Anastasia back to Portland.”
“Of course darling,” she says, then turning to Anastasia with barely contained adoration she gushes, “Anastasia, it has been such a pleasure to meet you! I hope I get to see you again!” She extends her hands to Anastasia sincerely completely glowing. Anastasia is shy as ever takes my mother’s hand with a surprised look on her face, she finally nods.
Taylor comes from his office knowing my mother is about to leave, and shows her out the door. The last thing I hear from my mother is her thanking Taylor politely. As soon as she’s out of the earshot, I turn to Anastasia and glare at her with my risen anger.
“So the photographer called?”
She looks a little scared. “Yes,” she says her voice is barely audible.
“What did he want from you?” I say evenly, all business. If the fucker was here, I’d show him a lesson he’d not forget a long time. (← I'll be Watching You by Police)
“He called to apologize,” she murmurs, “you know...for what happened on Friday,” she says drifting off.
“I see,” I say, and did she accept the apology? That’s it? He apologizes and she forgives and everything is honky dory with the would-be rapist? Just as I was gathering my thoughts to remark again, Taylor comes back and tells me that there is an issue for the aid shipment to Darfur. He nods at Anastasia, and professionally greets her. She smiles at him. My jealousy rises in me again. I don’t want her smiling at every guy she sees! Even if it is out of politeness. Can’t she see that she belongs to me? Fuck! Not yet. But she needs to know. That’s why I want her to sign the contract. That way she doesn’t need to think about any of these issues that are bothering me. She just has to follow my directions and my lead.
“Does Taylor live here?” she asks bringing me out of my reveries though my gaze never left her.
“Yes.” I say in a clipped tone. She looks at me taken aback. I will deal with her in a minute. Right now I have to attend the Darfur business at hand. I get my Blackberry from the kitchen counter, and call my right hand person Ros. “Ros, what’s the problem?”
She tell me the problem with the food shipment through land where warlords are known to hijack aid shipments which in return putting both the American and local crew in danger. I listen to Ros while still watching Anastasia my eyes fixed. I have to take her again and remind her just exactly who she belongs to. She looks confused, lost and incredibly small in my great room. She lowers her gaze again, wringing her hands nervous.
Half my mind is listening to Ros, but I'm mostly occupied watching and thinking of Anastasia. I slowly drift back to Ros when she says, “What is your order Mr. Grey?” she says.
“I’m not putting either crew on risk.”
“Do you want them to try a different route?” she consults me.
“No, cancel... We’ll just air drop instead...”
“As you wish sir.”
“Good.” I say and hang up my gaze not left Anastasia for one second.
Even the few minutes on the phone dealing with something else didn’t help and my anger hasn’t subsided. Had Anastasia signed the contract, she would be punished right now for receiving a phone call from that fucker. As it is, she hasn’t. So, she needs to read and do that as soon as possible. I look at her once again, and then I head to my study to bring back the printed contract. I hand it to her curtly.
This is the contract,” I say firmly, “I want you to read it. We’ll discuss it next weekend. May I suggest that you do some research on what’s involved to better acquaint yourself?” I take a breath. “That is if you agree,” I acquiesce, but anxiety rises in me with the possibility that she may not accept, and my eyes soften and when I speak again, there is a slightly hidden plea in my voice, “I really hope you do agree Anastasia...”
“Research, how?”she asks.
“You can find a lot of the information on the internet.” I say, and all of a sudden her face falls. She doesn’t want our arrangement? What’s wrong? Her facial expression gets me concerned. What if she finds me overbearing and decides against what I’m asking of her?
“What’s wrong?”I ask.
“I don’t have a computer. I’ll ask my roommate Kate if I can use her laptop.” Oh... I can solve that problem easily. I hand her the large envelope containing the contract.
Knowing her reservations against receiving gifts, I say, “I suppose I can lend you one. Get your things, we’ll drive back to Portland now, and get a bite to eat on the way. I’m going to get dressed now. Excuse me.” I say.
“I’m going to make a phone call,” she murmurs. I frown. What if she’s going to call him?
I have to know. “The photographer?” I ask my jaw clenching in barely contained anger. She blinks and looks confused.
“Just remember Miss Steele,” I said sharply, “I. Don’t. Share!” enunciating. She’s taken aback, giving me a “what is your problem?” stare. But I don’t budge.
“Just remember that.” I say in a chilling tone, all of a sudden feeling distant. I go back to my room to get dressed, leaving her standing in the middle of the room her mouth agape with my brief scolding. I put a few clothing items into my carry-on bag since I’ll be staying in Portland for the graduation ceremony. Then I quickly get dressed ready to go, but still angry under the surface. I grab my bag I’ve packed and walk out into the living room. My mind is still reeling. She still hasn’t signed the contract. Had she signed it, I would have a grip of the situation. But right now, I have no control over it. It’s making me angrier, but I do my best to be polite. She’s still standing where I left her when I come out of my door. And this feeling of not having any control over her affairs, and her being a complete stranger to my expectations, wants and demands is making me uneasy. I want her to know my rules, learn and follow them. If she gets out of line as she did today by speaking to that fucker, I can correct her behavior by way of punishing her to my satisfaction, so she learns to behave within my boundaries.
I stand by the door and glance at her. “Ready?” I ask. She nods uncertainly, my eyes narrow. I put my leather jacket on over my low hanging jeans. I see her eyes conspicuously appraising. I approve. I see her try to hide a small sigh. I’ve calmed down, and not giving anything away. She frowns.
“Tomorrow then,”I say to Taylor reminding him that he is to come and meet me in Portland.
“Yes sir. Which vehicle will you be driving sir?” he asks.
“The R8.” I respond.
“Have a safe trip Mr. Grey. Miss Steele,” he says.
Taylor’s odd look at Anastasia puzzles me. Perhaps he too became fond of her in a short time. She’s hard not to like. Knowing my devious ways, he may have his opinions of my lifestyle, but I don't care what they are. He's part of my staff. I'm his boss. Taylor’s been with me for four years. He knows what my Play Room is for, and he’s known almost all my subs. But he also knows that Dominant and Submissive lifestyle was their chosen path. It gives me a pang of guilt that it isn’t so for Anastasia. She’s never had sex before let alone being in the kind of relationship I’m interested in. Taylor opens the door for us without giving anything further and his is expression flat. I summon the elevator. Anastasia is thoughtful. She’s chewing something over in her mind. I’ve come to know that side of her well in the past couple of days. She’s an over thinker.
But I can’t let her just overthink something and then decide to leave me, without me having my say. We need to communicate. I want this to work so badly. I need this... In fact, I never wanted, or needed anything more before! There are these foreign emotions coursing through my body and my mind. What I know is that I desperately want her. I can’t take the suspense and ask: “What is it Anastasia?
What are you thinking?
She looks at me surprised to find out I know she’s mulling something over. Ugh! That delectable lip goes back into the captivity of her teeth again. I groan, and reach out and pull her chin to release that lip.
Her jaws drops opens and she turns beet red. Why is her reaction so fucking hot to me? All of a sudden, she looks younger, more innocent to me and melting me inside. I can’t help but smile at her softly. With one look, one blush she shifts my mood from the depths of despair and hell into heaven. She’s such a beautiful witchy, magic woman. I’m in awe of her! ( Black Magic Woman by Santana)
She finally says, “Christian, I have a problem,” deciding to talk about what she’s been mulling over.
A problem? I’m all ears. What sort of problem?
Oh?” She has my complete attention, and I’m holding my breath. When the elevator arrives, the door dings opens and I let her in, but still waiting for her to tell me what the problem is. I press for the Ground level. I raise my eyebrows to coax her talking about her problem.
“Please, go on,”I say.
“Uhm... Well, here’s the thing...” she says, and stops, looking down at her hands, and wringing those hands again as if they hold a secret clue as to help her what to say. Then she finds her resolve, and speaks: “Look. I really need to talk to Kate. I need to ask her some questions about sex, and seeing as how involved you are, I don't think its a good idea for me to ask my questions to you. You see, you want me to do a list of things, and perform...” she says blushing and drifting, then brings her resolve and adds as my eyes burning embers gazing into her fully, and completely paying attention trying to read what she says and what she omits in her expression and words.
I just need to speak to her. I have no points of reference, no experience, and you, not letting me talk to anyone but to only, well, you, doesn’t help...” She looks pleading. “I really need her help. You know, girl to girl. Well, you don’t know. But I just have to talk to her... Please?” she asks pleading.
Oh God! How can I say no to her pleading, and begging? I roll my eyes. If it’s that important to her, I acquiesce, “Alright. You can talk to her if you must,” I say. She makes me exasperated sometimes. But I have to remind her about Elliot’s involvement with her roommate. She must not mention anything to my brother. All of a sudden I feel that she gets is like a porcupine, raising her quills up defending her roommate, her best friend. She fully stands behind her. I approve. She's loyal!
Kate wouldn’t do that!” she defends her. “Besides, if she were to tell me anything about Elliot, I wouldn’t come running to you to talk about it.
I shake my head.“See, I don’t really care about my brother’s sex life, who he sleeps with or how he does it. Essentially, what he does is no interest to me. But, I am an interest to him in the other hand,” I murmur. “My brother is a nosy bastard, and I can tell you that he is deeply interested what we’ve done so far, or what we would do.” I give her a warning.
If Kate knew what I plan to do with you, she’d have my balls on a plate,” I say softly. She’s just like me. Determined, no non-sense, and a ball crusher.
Okay, fine,”she agrees shaking her head. Her response makes me smile. The sooner she submits to me, the sooner I can tell her what to do, instead of trying to negotiate a behavior, and get exasperated in return like I am now! I really want her to sign her contract, and soon.
The sooner I have your submission the better, so we can stop all this,” I say softly.
Stop what?” she asks confused.
How could she not know what she’s doing? She’s going against my will despite the fact I kept telling her I want to be the one to answer her questions. I want to be the teacher, the instructor. She has signed an NDA to not to discuss anything to anyone, yet she wants to go to her roommate and talk to her about things that she signed she wouldn’t do. She’s exasperating. I sigh, and say, “So you stop defying me!
She looks disbelieving and confused. I reach down and lift her chin up, and plant a kiss on her lips as the elevator dings open. I hold her hand and walk her out of the elevator. I walk her to my black R8.
“Nice car,” she murmurs dryly when she sees it. Is she making fun of me? I love her teasing ways. It does something to me I can’t explain. I find myself grinning. “I know,” I say. It’s my other baby, besides Anastasia of course. No matter how much she boils my blood with her defiance, her carefree observances and her innocent behavior just takes my breath away, and I feel like another young man with her. Just me, Christian... no soul crushing fucked up shit from my past. Just a young man taking a young woman out for a drive on a lovely day; so plain and simple... So ordinary. (← We are Young by Fun ft. Jeanelle Monae)
All of a sudden I have this crushing desire to show her everything. I want to bring the world to her feet. I take her hand, and walk her to the passenger door, opening it for her. She climbs in, and “whoa...” she says finding it surprisingly low. I smile. It’s a sports car baby, low center of gravity for speed. I walk to the driver’s side, open the driver's door and ease inside the car.
“What sort of car is this?” she says.
“It’s an Audi R8 Spyder. Seeing as it is a beautiful day, we’ll take the top down. I have couple of baseball caps in the glove box. Would you get one for each of us please?”
“You can use the sunglasses there as well,” I add. She nods. When we settle in with our seatbelts, she is getting the baseball caps for us, I turn the car on. The MP3 player comes on automatically and it’s Bruce Springsteen playing. What a lovely song on such a lovely day with such a lovely woman. I can’t help myself but grin with joy, and say “Gotta love Bruce,” as I back out of the parking space and out of the parking garage of Escala. It’s a beautiful May morning in Seattle. We drive through the traffic. I’m lost in thoughts of her. Of this beautiful woman sitting next to me. So close, yet so far. What will she think of the contents of the contract? Will she agree to them? Will she be scared, and run for the hills? I slightly shake my head out of my reveries, and focus on Bruce’s song. (I’m on Fire by Bruce Springsteen)
I drive on I-5 heading south towards Portland. The top down on the convertible, the wind sweeps through our heads over the caps and sunglasses. When Bruce says, “I can take you higher... Oh, I’m on fire,” I turn my gaze on Anastasia. She has no idea how apt this song is defining my feelings for her. I too wake up in the middle of the night with my sheets soaking wet from the nightmares, and the residual feeling of my past just like he described: “like a freight train roaming through the middle of my head,” and hasn’t Anastasia been cooling my desire? How can I let go of her? Doesn’t she realize how much I desire her?
How could someone I have just met mean so much to me? How could she make room for herself in my dark soul, if it is even still present, make room inside me so fast? How could someone so innocent like her do that? I amon fire for her! Only if she knew!
Damn! All I can do is to gaze at her. I am on fire, desire and need of her, my lips twitch into a smile. I reach out to her with my right hand slowly and place it on her knee only, gently squeezing. Her response is automatic. As soon as we touch, or connect in any possible way, the current starts flowing, and jolting between us.
“Are you hungry?”I ask huskily, with desire in my voice.
Not particularly,” she says. I am displeased because she hardly eats anything though I did detect that she is hungry for me. But still... It’s one of my rules that she has to eat properly to keep herself healthy. I remind her that she must eat.
I’ll take you to a great restaurant near Olympia.” She sighs, I hide a small smile, I squeeze her knee again hungry for her reaction. And soon enough her breath hitches. She wants more. I remove my hand and put it back on the steering wheel. Expectation. That’s half the fun, and sex is only amplified with it many folds. It’s a great tool for control as well. One I’ve mastered very, very well. I put my foot down on the accelerator and speed through the freeway, while Anastasia looks at me with a different kind of hunger.
We reach the restaurant. It’s not a big place, but a small charming locale with mismatched chairs and random table cloths. The food however is great though it too is simple.
“What sort of food they have here?” she asks suspiciously.
“Oh, whatever they catch or gather. But it tastes good,” I make a face and she starts laughing at my mock expression. Such a beautiful, carefree, and youthful sound! I love it! The waitress comes along to take our drink order. She sports her blonde bangs and looks frustrated as she tries to get my attention, but I ignore her as Anastasia is inconspicuously trying to observe her behavior and my reaction. I approve! She’s jealous, and that does something in me, and I feel my erection stirring.
Seeing as Anastasia doesn’t have much of an experience in choosing wine, I order two glasses of Pinot Grigio, but she purses her lips as if disapproving. I get frustrated. I know wine, and she doesn’t. I find myself snapping at her saying,“What?
She flinches, lowers her gaze as if hurt, “I wanted Diet Coke,” she whispers.
No. That is not a good choice. First of all, it has saccharine which causes cancer. And my choice of wine is a decent one; and it goes with anything this place can offer. I explain that to her. She acquiesces.
I feel taken aback by her acquiescence as she normally would rebuttal with her own opinion.
My mother liked you,” I say to her changing the topic, and she is completely surprised by that. “Really?” she says turning red. Even compliments are hard to accept for her though she is well deserving of them.
Yes,” I smile, “my mother always thought I was gay, and I believe she was expecting a guy to walk out of my room.” She frowns.
“Why on earth would your own mother think that you were gay?” she asks confused.
“Because she’s never seen me with a girl.” Her head slightly snaps up, and she blurts out:
“Not any of the fifteen?”
I smile. She remembered. She was paying attention.
No, none of the fifteen. It’s a first,” I say. “You are the first one ever she's met. In fact, this week had been a week of many firsts for me,” I say deep in thought what it could mean.
“Really?” she says softly and innocently.
Yes,” I say just as softly, “you’re the first woman I slept with. You know, sleep sleep,” I say smiling,first one I had sex with in my bed,” I say with desire and fire rising in me, “first girl ever to ride in Charlie Tango, and first girl I introduce to my mother. What are you doing to me? You’ve bewitched me completely!” I say disarmed, my gaze intense. Can I even imagine being without her even after just this short time of knowing her? My subconscious tells me “sadly, no.” ( Hard to Say I’m Sorry by Boyz to Men)
After our wines arrive, she takes a quick sip to gather some courage for something she wants to say. My gaze is intent on her. “I’ve really enjoyed this weekend Christian,”she whispers. My eyes narrow as my breath hitches. How could she make me gasp with six simple words? Why is my name coming out of her lips so damn sexy? She bites her lip absently.
Stop biting your lip Anastasia,” I growl knowing full well that this is going to be my undoing with my rising erection, she gasps and her teeth release her lip from captivity. “I’ve enjoyed the weekend immensely as well,” my voice husky.
“Uhm, Christian, can I ask you something?” she whispers as if she doesn’t want others to hear her. “Of course,” I say with my gaze on her intently.
Her voice dips into even a lower octave, “what is vanilla sex?” she asks making me smile wide.
“It’s just straightforward sex with no toys involved. No extras. You know....” I smile remembering. She doesn’t know. Giving me another unexpected pleasure. I’m her first. “Well, you don’t know. But that’s what it is.”
“Oh,” she says still speculating and mulling over something in her head.
When the food comes, I ignore the waitress. Not that I’m even slightly interested in her. Like I could be interested in anyone besides Anastasia? When she leaves our food and go, Anastasia giggles, and that’s just about the most beautiful sound I’ve heard. So carefree, so melodic, so befitting of her. Perfectly lovely!
Christian?” she asks, “Why haven’t you ever had vanilla sex before? Have you always been... you know, with your particular predilections?” I slowly nod, and sigh. How can I explain her that Elena seduced me at a young age, and I’ve known nothing else? She looks at me for an answer. I finally go for the truth and say, “My mother’s friend seduced me when I was fifteen.”
Her mouth drops open, her face falls, saddened.
Oh,” I hear along with an escaped gasp. I read her lips to say, “my God!” but no sound escapes it. Her stare changes.
She had singular tastes. I was her submissive for six years,” I shrug. Past tense, done deal.
Her mouth is still open. For once, her smart mouth is lost for words. “Which is to say, I know what is involved Anastasia.” She continues to stare unable to digest the news, like she ate something bad, and its making her sick.
I roll my head, “look Anastasia, I didn’t have the normal introduction to sex.”
Her mouth finds its voice finally.
Let me ask you this then; you’ve never... ever dated anyone in college?
“No,” I shake my head.
“But why not?”
I don’t think she really wants to know the answer to that. But I ask anyway.
“Do you actually want the answer to that?”
“Yes!” she says firmly. Hmm, she’s curious about me.
I just didn’t want to. She was all I wanted, all I needed. And besides if I had, she would have beaten the shit out of me,” I smiled fondly at the memory. She’s been beaten me so much, it’d be a walking bridge from Seattle to Hong Kong. Her eyes darken with anger, her jaw sets, but she speaks calmly.
You said she was a friend of your mother’s. How old was she?” Where is she going with that, but I answer.
“Oh, she was old enough to know better,” I say with an afterthought.
She asks the question that is burning her now.
Do you still see her?
Yes,” I say calmly.
She has disappointment in her eyes, and worry.
Do you still...uhm... do...?” trailing off, eyes intent, and full of worry, her face turning puce. I haven’t seen her this sick since, she watered the flower bed in that bar’s front yard.
No,” I shake my head. I am actually happy to see the rising jealousy in her thinking of a competition. “She’s just a good friend,” I add.
She then asks me the dumbest question. Dumber than “are you gay Mr. Grey?” question.
Hmm. Does your mother know?
Of course not.” What is she thinking? Oh mother, by the way, one of your good friends seduced me when I was fifteen, and we had a six year running relationship. Now we're just good friends. My mother wouldn't understand the complexity of our relationship.
She grows silent again. She’s thinking, overthinking. Mulling what she heard and it’s not to her liking. She takes a sip of the wine. The food arrives, but she’s just staring at it as if the waitress brought a plate of dung.
Full time?
Were you her submissive full time?
Oh... “Yes, but I didn’t see her all the time. It was difficult. First I was too young and in school, and then of course I went to college.” She just stares, speechless once again. “Anastasia, eat please,” I say.
I’m not hungry Mr. Grey,” she says distant.
Eat!” I say firmly, slowly, threatening. She just glares at me. She doesn’t seem to care about my threatening tone of voice.
I need a minute,” she says, and surprises me. She’s right. Too much information to absorb.
“Sure,” I acquiesce.
She’s thinking again. Overthinking. I don’t want my shitty past to affect her decision. She seems worried. I wait for her to speak. She finally looks up.
Will our... uhm...”trying to find to right word, ”...relationship be like that?
You, just bossing me around, giving orders?
Yes,” I confirm. But it’s more than that.
I see,” she says flatly.
It’s more than that Anastasia... When you start submitting to me, you really will want to do that,” in a low fervent voice.
She looks skeptical. Her face says, “Yeah right buddy!” her eyes narrowing. She lowers those beautiful blues down to the table again staring at her small hands, this time even the hands are unable to move, and motionless, lost, like her.
It’s a big step for me,” she says and takes a bite of her food absently.
I know it is,”I say. As I close my eyes, I don’t want her to slip through my fingers deciding against our arrangement. I want her to keep an open mind. But I can’t, I won’t sway her decision one way or the other. She deserves better. This is all on her. She has to be the one to make the final decision.
Look Ana, you need to do your research, read the contract, and go with your gut feeling. If you have a hard time understanding something, or some concept, I’d be more than happy to explain it to you. I’m going to be in Portland until Friday. So if you want to talk about it, before then I mean, call me,” I say. I’m nervous before this beautiful woman. She’s smart, she’s beautiful, she’s talented and what’s more, she’s a tough negotiator, unexpected of one who looks submissive but too independent.
Would you call me Anastasia? Perhaps we can have dinner on Wednesday?” I ask. She says nothing, gives nothing away. That blank stare again. She does impassive better than I do right this moment. Shit! What if this isn’t impassive, and if she’s deciding against our arrangement. I can’t take it. She has to at least consider.
Anastasia?” I ask. “I really, really, really want to make this work. In fact, I never wanted anything as much as I want this work.” Not when I started my company, not when I found any other woman, not any acquisition. It’s her! This woman I claimed every which way. I want her. I need her! My eyes are burning with desire for her!“Say something Ana...” my voice is pleading.
Her question surprises me: “What happened to the fifteen?” she blurts out.
This and that... It boils down to this Anastasia. We were incompatible.” That’s it really. I wasn’t compatible with any of them. She has worry in her eyes. Why? Disbelief.
If you weren’t compatible with trained submissives, and fifteen of them at that, what makes you think...” she says voice going low with worry trailing now barely audible, “whatmakes you think that I who knows next to nothing can be compatible to you?
You are!” I say fervently. “Believe me I know!” I want her to know that, and believe me, because it’s the truth.
Are you still seeing any of them?” she asks with another worry with an undercurrent of jealousy. She still likes me despite all my disclosures.
No Anastasia! I’m not seeing any of them. I’m a monogamous man in my relationship. I don’t have multiple partners.” I want her to know that she will be the only one when we have our arrangement.
She gives nothing away, “I see,” she murmurs. Is she relieved?
Just do your research, you’ll get a better picture,” I say. She puts her fork down, and done eating. I can’t have her not eat. She has hardly eaten anything in the last two days. I don’t know how she manages to function with barely eating any food. That’s another reason she needs to sign the contract, so I can make sure she takes care of herself.
That’s all you’re eating?” I question my mouth a thin line.
She says nothing, only nods. I don’t want to push my luck here. I have to pick my battles with her. And food right now is not in the top of the list. I eat and clean my plate while she’s squirming in her seat uncomfortably. She’s full of thought, and I know she’s analyzing my disclosure but a lot of other things are passing through her mind as her face changes and changes. What I would give to know what she’s thinking right now! And she’s squirming...uncomfortably. That could be attributed to my conquest of her.
I’d love to give anything to figure out what you are thinking right at this moment,” I whisper. And she blushes to the hairline. I see. That is what she’s thinking. Where I’ve been, how I claimed her, and it pleases me to know that I have that effect on her. I give her a salacious grin.
I can guess what you are thinking,” I whisper.
Are you sure you’re not a mind reader?
No, I’m not. But I know how to read your body. I’ve been reading your body past couple of days remember? I think I’ve learned it quite well,” I say suggestively. I want this woman. I remember our experience too. It’s not only her who is affected. It’s me too!
I motion the waitress for the check. I pay, and we get up to leave. I proffer my hand to her to receive hers. When her fingertips touch, the connection is made again, and that damn pleasurable current finds its path through us. She feels it too. It’s in her gasp. I take her back to the car, open the passenger door for her. She climbs in. She’s quiet and thinking about all my revelations to her this morning. I want this to work so damn badly! What if she says no? Will I let her go? Will I be okay if she’s with some other fucker like the photographer, or the preppy Princetonian at the store, or someone like them?
I have to let her make her own decision, but I’m dying with jealousy. God! I give her a sideways glance. The proximity is intoxicating. The air is charged with electricity, and her scent is heady. All pure, all homey, all woman, all Anastasia!
I give my signal and get out of the freeway. I make my turn into her street and finally into her apartment complex, and pull into a parking lot, turning off the engine.
For a moment we gaze at each other wordless. Finally she collects herself and says with some unknown emotion, “Do you want to come in Christian?” Is it want? Desire?
I can’t. I have to work. I have too much piled on,” I say. I want to, but I can’t be that close to her. I have to give her space, and I have to give myself space. Test myself. Test my will. I have to know if it is an actual desire, want, or something else. She’s too bewitching in this proximity.
My response makes her sad, but she lowers her gaze again to her hands not willing to show her emotions. Damn woman! I can’t take it! I take her right hand, and pull it to my lips and kiss each and every knuckle on her hand making her gasp. I find myself doing things I normally wouldn’t be doing with her. She has awe and adoration in her eyes with my gesture. We’re locked once again in our own little planet, a bubble at that.
My brain finally connects with the rest of my body and my legs find their function. I get out of the car move to the passenger side. I open her door, hold my hand out to her. She accepts it. I’m full of these foreign emotions again.
Thank you for this weekend again Anastasia,” I breathe fervently. “It’s been the best!” I say. Yes, simply the best. I don’t remember having a better one. Ever! “How about Wednesday? I’ll pick you up from work, or wherever you want me to pick you up from...” I trail off softly.
Wednesday then,”she says simply. I kiss her hand again. She turns her head to the side. She’s in an emotional turmoil too. She looks bereft, confused and sad. But she hides her face from me, and turns to walk away holding her button of a nose in the air. Reminding me the way she walked away in the street after the photo shoot. What is wrong? As she walks away, she turns to me with an afterthought.
Oh, Christian,”she brings me up from my tangled web of thought, “I’m wearing your underwear,”and shows the waistband to my boxer briefs. My jaw drops open. I’m completely shocked! She shocks me yet again! She, in my underwear, in my boxers is so fucking hot! If I didn’t have work to do, and if we weren’t in an open parking lot, I’d fuck her on the hood of my car! ( I don't Wanna Fall in Love by Wicked Games - you'll love the video) She smiles playfully seeing my face, and turns back smug, and walks away leaving me standing in my shocked gaze after her.
By the time I manage to gather myself with the south of my body with its own idea, I make my legs walk back to the car, and buckle up and pull away from the parking lot. I make my way to the Heathman Hotel. Taylor should be waiting for me at the hotel. I reach to the hotel, and a valet rushes up to me reverently. I toss the keys to him.
“Mr. Grey!”greets the doorman.
I take my Blackberry out, press the speed dial.
“Yes sir,”answers Taylor.
“I’m here,” I say.
“Yes sir, your usual suite is ready. I brought everything you asked for.”
“I’ll see you momentarily. I need to be briefed.”
“Yes sir,”Taylor says. I hang up.
Another waiting week. Fuck! I hate waiting. And this time I’ve tasted Miss Steele. It’ll be so much harder to wait till Wednesday. I walk into the hotel with the thoughts of Anastasia. I’m already missing her.
Damn! I hate waiting with a passion! It's not my style.
Wednesday then. I can’t ‘not’ have a way to stay in touch with her, not know what she is doing, who she is talking to, the thought of it is already killing me. I don’t think I can give her up. No matter how fair I want to be to her. She’s claimed me as much as I’ve claimed her. For now, get a grip Grey!
I walk into the hotel building, go through the lobby, and find the elevators. Press the call button. The memory of her in that elevator is still fresh. I've made up my mind. If I don't have her, I’ll go out of my mind without her! As it is, I’m wound tighter than the girdle on a Baptist minister at an all you can eat pancake breakfast! Breathe Grey, breathe. I walk into the elevator, and its doors close on me with my thoughts of Anastasia. (Principles of Lust by Enigma)


(the bookmark is courtesy of:

When I arrive at my suite Taylor is waiting for me as I’ve discussed with him over the phone.

“Mr. Grey,” he nods by the way of greeting.
“Taylor,” I say curtly.
“I need you to do a few things for me today.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want you to order a MacBook Pro for Miss Steele. Top of the line, even if it isn’t available to public. With the largest hard drive, RAM, video graphics, and best motherboard available, and I want it be equipped with the fastest internet on board. Even if she has to travel to the remote corners of Africa, it has to function, have all the newest best bells and whistles. Have her set up with an e-mail account. I want all this to be setup and, delivered immediately. It must be delivered by early tomorrow morning the latest even if they have to fly it from their main factories. I’m sure their Cupertino, California factory may have what I have in mind. Have them overnight it if they must. The setup should be enough to rival yours,” I said knowing his equipment not only could control a space ship, but also was equipped to do global monitoring.
“I also need to have her e-mail account set-up today. I want laptop to be delivered to her apartment, and have it set up for her ready to use.”
“Yes sir. Anything else sir?”
“Yes, I also I need to have her set up with a Blackberry. The latest model.”
“Yes sir. Anything else sir?” he says.
“Is Charlie Tango back at the Boeing field?”
“It is sir.”
“Has Gayle gone to see her sister duration of my stay?”
“Yes sir. Do you require her to come back earlier?”
“Not for the moment. I’ll let you know.”
“Yes sir.”
My ‘I’m your boss’ gaze soften just a touch, and I say, “Taylor, how’s daughter? Are you and her mother happy with the school she’s attending?”
His eyes shine with the mention of his little girl.
“She’s very well Mr. Grey. Thank you for asking. We are very pleased with her school. It is one of the best. Thank you for providing for her tuition. We’re very grateful sir.” I nod.
I don’t do well with pleasantries. If I pay for Taylor’s daughter’s private school, it's only as a perk so he gets to stay and work for me. I may be a demanding boss, a slave driver if you will; a control freak as Miss Steele would put it, but I make it worth their while. If the employee is a valuable one, I reward her or him very well. But in return I demand hundred percent loyalty, and I am in control of them at all times. In old west they would be called “riding for the brand.”You eat, sleep, breathe, work, live and die for the ranch and its brand if you will. I expect nothing less. If they’re not willing to do that, or fall short, I fire their asses. I don’t have time for dramas, neither do I need them.

Getting to where I am, being the top dog doesn’t happen if I don’t have hundred percent control, a hundred percent of the time. I can’t forget nor forgive mistakes. They are costly to me, they reflect badly on the company and inadvertently on myself as I am the sole owner, sole proprietor, and sole person in control. The mistakes are dealt with swift action, so the offender doesn’t forget it for the next time; and it won’t be repeated. Nice guys don’t win.

Taylor is an exceptional handpicked employee among hundreds, if not thousands of possible candidates. He is 6’3”,with military style closely cropped hair, well defined jaw, 215 pounds of muscle with green eyes and a calm demeanor. If it moves, he can drive, fly or sail just about anything from M-4 Sherman, Merkava, T-54, Challenger, to F-22, F/A 18 Hornet, F-16 to amphibious boats. He was a member of the Delta Force. Delta Force is so secret, even the Army doesn’t even acknowledge its existence like the next generation weapons or aircrafts. They’re super soldiers! He’s been in one of the SMUs (Special Mission Units) and had been to some well-known, and some ‘you never heard of but because of it you sleep well at night’ kind of missions. He’s one badass bodyguard and head of my immediate security at 35 years of age. Having been to assault missions as well as impossible rescue mission and have completed them successfully under heavy assault with more fireworks than 4thof July, he’s well-seasoned, and he hardly ever gets nervous under any tough situation.

I’ve seen Taylor in action; he’s fast like a viper, stealthy like a silent shadow, and extremely efficient. I’m not easily impressed and he impressed me as soon as I laid eyes on him. Can one man do all of these things? Taylor can; I only hire the exceptional. He’s one of the best of the best; a rare diamond among all jewels. I would have never found him until a college acquaintance and business associate Alex Pella who sold me my jet and helped me handpick Charlie Tango recommended him. Alex is another man who is similar in his business understanding and I suspect his other predilections. You come to recognize the other “control freaks”as Miss Anastasia Steele would have said.

Alex Pella has the biggest privately owned aircraft sales, lease and brokerage corporation out of LA, but he has his fingers in all sorts of pies when it comes to luxury and commercial aircrafts for rich clients like me to the corporations and airlines with clients all over the globe from the continental U.S. to South America to Asia to Europe to Africa. He’s always in his element wherever he goes, and some of the places he goes require a private army of his own. He hired some of the former members of Taylor’s team, and he would have hired him as well, but that required frequent out of the country travels with extensive absences. Alex, being a bigger megalomaniac than I am, doesn’t want any sort of family attachments from his security crew. Despite Taylor’s impeccable resume and skills, he wouldn’t have made the cut for Alex under normal circumstances solely for having a child, though I suspect he would have made an exception for him because of his exceptional skills if he accepted the position.

When I was scouting for a person like Taylor he just sort of fell into my lap about four years ago. It worked out well for the both of us. Taylor’s calm, weighs risks well, though sometimes he can be overprotective. He’d also been a private military contractor, but he wanted to be close to his family though his marriage didn’t work out. It rarely does for a soldier who was in his position where first requirement is to make the military your girlfriend, your wife, your family, and your child, but working for me allows him to take care of his ex and his daughter well, and he gets to see his daughter often.

Taylor loves his weapons, and he understands them very well. But that’s a point we disagree. Growing up in a home where weapons were abhorred since my mother the doctor had to patch up a lot of gunshot victims, I too am for weapons control; in fact I support two gun-control initiatives in the state of Washington. Gun control is a point Taylor and I profusely disagree. Ordinarily, I would want him not to carry a weapon, but he negotiated that in when I hired him. It was his hard limit, and hard limits are something I understand well. He had to have weapons, and I knew he’d become a valuable employee, so I acquiesced.

They say that people find love in all sorts of odd places which is certainly true for Taylor. After he started working for me, he found love right in my kitchen in Mrs. Jones, my housekeeper who is a widow. She’s another exceptional employee, few years older than Taylor, but then again some men like older woman. The thought of finding love in odd places brings my thoughts back to Miss Steele. What is it I feel for her? I’m afraid to name it. I, Christian Grey who is hardly afraid of anything, am afraid of feelings for an innocent young woman. What I feel for her truly scares me! Icarus to sun. She’ll burn me down, yet I can’t escape her captivation. ( Break Your Heart by Taio Cruz)

“If that’s all you require sir,” said Taylor bringing me out of my reveries, “I’ll go make the arrangements for Miss Steele’s computer,” I nod. He leaves.

I have a lot of business to complete today, so I jump into work on my laptop. Before I know it, it’s already six p.m. I go and work out for an hour, then come back to my suite take a quick shower, and order dinner in with my thoughts of Miss Steele. Has she read the contract yet? Will she run for the hills? What would I do if she does? Can I handle it? I need a backup plan to convince her. What if she doesn’t want our arrangement?

I badly want her. I never wanted anything as much! After all these women all these years, nothing really worked to my satisfaction, and yet here she is, a diamond in the rough, but a diamond nonetheless, where some people spend a lifetime to find is right within my reach! I can’t settle with something inferior after I’ve held her, tasted her, loved her, fucked her, and claimed her. “She’s mine!” growls my subconscious. I’d die if I see her in someone else’s arms, someone else’s care who wouldn’t value her like I do. I have to have her hundred percent, and I can’t do it without her agreeing with my terms. That’s the only way I know how. But I can’t have her defying me. She has no sense of self-preservation! I could see that when she got drunk senseless, when she accepted calls from the would-be rapist, and knowing how he feels for her, she’s still in contact with him under the guise of some misguided friendship, and she doesn’t eat! What’s up with that? No, once I have her agree to the contract and have her signature, I can watch out for her. Should she get out of line, I’ll enjoy getting her back in line. The thought makes me smile. My palms are already twitching with the thought and it does something to my insides, twisting and tugging.
I eat my dinner in my suite. Taylor comes in. Clears his throat.
“Mr. Grey?”
“Yes Taylor,” I say.
“Miss Steele's laptop is being shipped from Cupertino, California. It should be delivered early in the morning to her apartment by a technician to set it up for her ready to go.” I nod.
“And her e-mail account?”
“It’s already been set up. Details of her login information of her ME account has been e-mailed to you sir.”
“How about the Blackberry?” I ask.
“The version you requested is going to be delivered this week though it isn’t available yet.”
“Let me know when. That’s all Taylor. You can turn in if you like.”
“Good night sir,” he says. I nod.

I fire up my laptop and get to my e-mail account excited like a school boy sending a girl his first e-mail. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t help myself but grin ear to ear! I have this peaceful feeling when I think of her as if she’s all I want, all I need, and all I desire!Will it ever get old? (Nocturne from The Secret Garden)
I get her e-mail account information and type up an e-mail to her:

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your New Computer
Date: May 22 2011 23:36
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele
I hope you slept well. I like you to put this laptop to good use as we’ve discussed.
I’m looking forward to our dinner on Wednesday.
Should you have any questions before then via e-mail, I’d be happy to answer them.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.


I go to bed laying there still. My mind is reeling, thinking of Anastasia. I can’t sleep. I toss and turn. What the fuck is wrong with me? This must be a fluke. I get my iPad, and scroll through my digital books. Absently, I find The Tess of D’Urbervilles. I scroll through chapters. She opted for the Debasement. Brave girl...

The influence that had passed into Clare like an excitation from the sky did not die down. Resolutions, reticences, prudences, fears, fell back like a defeated battalion. He jumped up from his seat, and, leaving his pail to be kicked over if the milcher had such a mind, went quickly towards the desire of his eyes, and, kneeling down beside her, clasped her in his arms...Damn! That’s what I’d like to do right now.

I close my eyes and randomly scroll through the pages, open my eyes again and I stop when I see the quote that says,Thus, the thing began. Had she perceived this meeting's import she might have asked why she was doomed to be seen and coveted that day by the wrong man, and not by some other man, the right and desired one in all respects..."

Am I the wrong man for her? I’d like to be the right one. I want her too much. What if I hurt her? Not physically, but emotionally. She’s not used to my dark ways, and dark soul, but when I see her, I see the sun. I feel my youth. I feel her presence body and soul! And somehow I forget about the world though my fifty shades of fuckedup self is nicely tucked beneath the surface. I scroll through a little more and see the quote that shivers me to the bone:

Out of the frying pan into the fire!” Fuck! That’s not what I want to do to her. But, if she reads her contract, and understands it well, this won't happen to her! She’s an adult woman for God’s sake! She can make her own decisions. Why can’t sleep claim me already! Would I rather take the nightmares laden with the crack whore that was my mother and her horrendous pimp? What a hard place I am in!

My life looks as if it had been wasted for want of chances! When I see what you know, what you have read, and seen, and thought, I feel what a nothing I am!"Oh fuck! Double fuck! What will she think of me when she reads the contract in its entirety? Will I disgust her? Will she hate me for it? Will she understand? Would she want to give me a chance to try with her?
As I scroll through the chapters, I read “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!" My breath hitches. I’m strangely filled with hope. She went for debasement, and she just may, just may agree to my terms. Just the thought of her is tearing my life into pieces and there is not a thing I can do about it.
I close my eyes and hug my iPad as if it was Anastasia, and slowly drift into sleep.
“I want you!”whispers Anastasia fervently, her blue eyes fire. My breath hitches. She wants me? My subconscious asks. Me? even though I’m completely fucked up! She wants me! My hands reach to her face, my gaze fixed on her, looking, seeking, probing, and trying to decipher this beautiful young woman. She wants me! Me! The husk of a man who doesn't deserve her!
“Why Anastasia?”I ask her intently. “Why do you want me?”
“I love you Christian!” she whispers lowering her gaze looking at her small hands. My breath catches up, and I am unable to breathe for a minute as if someone sucked out all of the air from the room. I close my eyes savoring this moment, savoring her.
Why would you love me? You don’t know how fucked up I am. So badly that it disgusts me! All fifty shades of it! I’m nothing...” I drift off.
“You’re NOT nothing!” she speaks fervently. “You are the air, and the sun to me. And somehow I was asleep until you showed up in my life sweeping through with your presence. You are a GOOD man Christian,” she says with a sweeping gesture of her hand, "and now that you’re here, in my life, for the first time in my life I feel I’m awake. Please don’t send me back to nothingness Christian!” she pleads.
How could I resist her when she pleads with me like that?
“Anastasia,” I inhale her. “I’m just the husk of a man,” with sadness in my eyes. “I can’t give what you want. I don’t know how... I don’t know if I’m capable of it anymore. I’m too broken inside. So fucking broken, it may be impossible to fix it!”
“I don’t care! I’ll take you anyway I can!” she says, and her words were my undoing. I close the last inch to her face so fast, I was already invading her mouth with my demanding kiss. I was devouring her, claiming her, savoring her, and it wasn’t enough! My hands were all over the place. My right hand lost in her hair, fingers tangled within the strands pulling them down, forcing her head to tilt up, to yield to me, to my will, to my exploration and to my manhood.
Agh! I groan. I swept her off the floor without breaking the kiss, her legs instantly wrapped around my torso. I like that. I push her into the walk while kissing and fondling her.
She captures my lower lip within the grasp and captivity of her teeth. She nips and sucks it, hard! I am about to convulse with this.
Anastasia, if you keep doing that,” I growl hoarsely, “I’ll fuck you whether you want to be fucked or not! You understand?” She sucks me even harder, completely ignoring my warning! What a woman she is, what a demanding girl!
I move my hands, lower her and my hands peel her shirt off, undoing her bra, springing her breast up to life. My eyes ablaze with desire, I grasp her breasts into my palms, lowering my head captured one of the nipples with my teeth as she gasps with pleasure. My tongue brushed over it, my lips blowing lightly. Her head arches, her eyes rolling back in their sockets. My thumb and forefinger brushes the other nipple while I pleasure torture this one with the relentless assaults of my mouth.
“Christian!” she screams with pleasure, though my name a barely comprehensible word laced with her moans. “Take me now! Please!” she begs.

“All in good time baby...” I whisper.
She grinds her hips into mine. She tries to touch me in the torso her hands absently moving. I capture them one swift move within one of mine.
“Hmm...” I smile. We’ll have to do something about this.
I sweep her off the floor putting her topless torso over my shoulder and carried her to my bed. I stand her by the bed, kneel down and unlace her shoes, and take her socks off. Then I nearly rip her jeans and panties off.
“Arch your back for me!” I order. She looks confused.
“Anastasia, arch your back for me!” I order again.
“Okay,” she whispers with anticipation. She moves back, and crane her body on the mattress. The idea that I am going to be inside of her causes my erection to grow. I reach down and brush her nipples only with the tips of my fingernails as she gasped with pleasure. My fingernails travel expertly down on her torso and I pause when I reach her bellybutton. My fingers circle her navel, with just enough pressure to let her know what is to come, making her desire me more, want me, expect me, and demand me with an all-consuming passion. My fingers travel over her pubic bone and stop.
“Oh please! Don’t stop Christian! I beg you!” she groans. I give her a salacious grin.
“Oh baby, the stopping time has passed. I won’t stop even if you begged me...” I whisper. And my palm cups her sex and she arches her back even more. I lean down forcefully putting her legs wide apart forcing my way in. My jeans and boxers are already off, and my erection has his own mind trying to capture and claim Miss Steele again. I lean down and inhale her sex like a bouquet of rare flowers. Her particular perfume which happened to be my favorite brand... My tongue darts out to taste her, and she is delectable. She gasps, arching her hips right into my mouth and my expectant tongue. My hands reach down and support that amazingly round derriere of hers. I give them both a squeeze. And my tongue invades her inside as pleasure jolts through her. I swirl inside her expertly. Then I quickly insert my index and middle finger inside, finding her wet to the core, and expanded.
“Christian! I’m begging you!! Please! I’m combusting!” she screams.
“Baby, I’m going to go down in on you, and I won’t stop! Are you prepared for that?”
“Yes! Just shut up and fuck me!”
I grin as wide as possible, “Yes, ma’am!” (←Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon)
“Spread your legs wider for me baby!” She does, and push and open them even farther. And rip the condom, covering my length and slam into her. Taking her, pulling on her, arching her, my thick need for her sex.
“I’m going to make you sore and utterly blissful baby!” I say as I slam and slam and slam into her claiming her over and over again. All of a sudden I pull out of her, and flip her by the legs, and lift her ass up in the air ready to receive me one again. I can’t get enough of this woman! I insert my length into her again, and claim her.
“Oh baby! This feel so deep! So close! Oh fuck!” Claiming her, merging with her as if nothing is enough, I slam into her hard over and over again.
Her moans and groans get louder. “Come for me baby!” I scream which is her undoing and we both come together, loud, and spent. I roll her to the side without pulling out of her, spooning, while holding her tight my hands absently traveling over her sides and her breast. There is sheen of sweat between the two of us. Her hand reaches back as we are lying down, and grazes my face. I close my eyes to her touch, leaning into it. I turn my hand, and kiss her palm. I feel her tired smile.
“Sleep sweet Anastasia...” I say holding her.
I pull out of her, take the condom out tossing it to the floor, then turn to pull the sheets over, still touching her spooning while a steady jolt of electricity passing through our bodies. I rub her hair and inhale her scent deeply.
All woman, soap, vanilla, and my Anastasia! My hand rolls to the side as I turn.
A loud noise... Clunk!
The noise jolts me back into my body. My eyes fling open.
Damn! I dropped the iPad onto the floor. My hand absently checks beside me to discover that Anastasia isn’t here in the bed. I look around. Was she here last night?

I groan as the realization dawns over me. She even invades my dreams, confounding me! She’s bewitched me body and soul! And I fucking had the hottest wet dream of my life!

My eyes drift to the alarm clock by the bedside. It reads 6:12 a.m. She’s probably still sleeping. I kick the covers off me. Usually it’s not my habit to take a shower before working out, but seeing what a hot night I had with Miss Steele, in my dream at that, a shower is in order and a must. “Along with new sheets!” My subconscious says.
After my shower, I go to the gym and run 10 miles, and lift weight and work out as hard as I can to get rid of this pent up energy. Every place I turn, I imagine her, and it just amplifies what I’m feeling for her, and the fucking desire just fills up like a never ending river!
After my hard work out, I make my way back to my suite, and take another shower. I put my grey flannel pants with my white trademark shirt. I put my socks and Converses on. My breakfast comes in. I read the Seattle Times and WSJ while having breakfast.
Taylor comes in to be briefed for the day’s plan. As I’m about to answer him, my Blackberry buzzes with an incoming e-mail. I hold my finger to Taylor to hold on a minute slightly irritated for the interruption. But my face changes as soon as I see who the sender is.
“Taylor, you may go. I’ll talk to you when I’m done with this,” I say passive.
He nods, “yes, sir.”
Anastasia sent an e-mail from her new laptop for me! I nervously open the message. I frown. She is incorrigible. Why can’t she accept a gift? Why must she look at the gift horse in the mouth?

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Your New Computer (on loan)
Date: May 23 2011 08: 18
To: Christian Steele
Dear Sir-
For some strange reason I slept very well. I was under the assumption that this laptop was on loan, ergo not mine.

Well, her tone tells me that she either read the contract, or looked over it. That pleases me. I find myself nearly tripping over the food cart while running to my laptop to type a response. I don’t want to waste my time with the small keys of the Blackberry.

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your New Computer (on loan)
Date: May 23 2011 08:21
To: Anastasia Steele
The laptop is on loan indefinitely Anastasia.
I gather from your tone that you have read the contract I gave you.
Have you any questions thus far?

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.


I’m waiting anxiously for her to send me a response. She is contacting me. That’s good. She’s not running to the hills. Gives me hope that she’s considering it. I’ll go out of my fucking mind with this wait. A few minutes later, my e-mail dings again, and she typed me a response. “Get a grip and stop acting like a fucking adolescence!” my sub-conscience scolds me.


From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Enquiring Minds
Date: May 23 2011 08:24
To: Christian Steele
I have quite a few questions sir, but they ought not be on an e-mail, and you know some of us have to work for a living you know.
I neither want nor need a laptop indefinitely, good Sir.
Until later, good day to you Mr. Grey.

Oh, you teasing, teasing girl! What I would love to do to you to tame that smart mouth of yours! I type a response immediately.

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your New Computer (on loan)
Date: May 23 2011 08:27
To: Anastasia Steele
Laters, baby.
PS: I work for a living too.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.


She’s going to work soon.
I’m done with breakfast, and am sitting at the large table.
“Taylor!” I call.
He immediately shows up, “Yes, sir.”
“What’s the status on that Blackberry for Miss Steele?”
“No ETA yet sir.” God, he makes it sound like a rescue mission!
“What is it that they can’t produce on one single phone?”
“It isn’t out yet sir, and this one has to be shipped from the manufacturing.”
“Fine,” I say flatly feeling petulant.
“Let me know when you get their ETA, and have it all set-up with the e-mail, and my contact information.”
“As yo wish sir,” he says politely. I nod curtly.
“I plan to go to WSU’s farming project today. Pick me up in ½ hour in the lobby,” I say, and that’s his cue to be dismissed. The rest of the day is boring tending business, keeping people in order where I make large sums of donations. My mind is constantly reeling on Miss Steele. Although I know she’s at work, not knowing who she is talking to, whether the owner’s brother is still hanging on her possessively, or the fucking photographer finally got through to her to see her. I’m about to go out of my mind. I have to have contact with her at all times. Finally when my work day is over, I send her an e-mail. She too should be home soon if she hasn’t gone any place else. She has a mountain of documents to read. She had better come home, and get to studying them already.
I hastily type her an e-mail. What do I say? I mull that over my head.
“Dear Anastasia,
I’ve missed you all day. I couldn’t wait for you to get home.”

No! Cross it! Sounds like a teenage boy!

“Hello Ana
How was your workday? I kept thinking of you all day. I couldn’t concentrate.”

Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me? Rule #1. Those are the things you don’t say to a girl right away even if that’s what you’re feeling. Try again:
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Working for a living
Date: May 23 2011 17:20
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele
I hope your work day was great.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

That’s better. Simple, interested, but not over the top. I hit send.
10 minutes... No reply yet. Hasn’t she come home yet? Where the hell is that Blackberry already? Are they redesigning it from scratch?
20 minutes... I find myself pacing in the suite, and making Taylor uncomfortable. He knows I’m edgy.
25 minutes... I open the mini fridge. Find the white wine, and pour myself a glass, still pacing.
27 minutes... My Blackberry buzzes with an incoming e-mail message. Even from the corner of my eye, I see Taylor exhale a sigh of relief. God! This woman can make all men nervous! Including my security detail who has been to a real war!!
Taylor quietly leaves the room when he sees the relief in my face after I confirm the sender of the message. It reads:

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Working for a living
Date: May 23 2011 17:47
To: Christian Steele
Dear Sir... I had a very good day at work.
Thank you for inquiring.
I grin ear to ear! Then I groan out loud! What is she doing to me? How could two simple sentences arouse me, and make me horny? Argh! Ana, read the document, sign it, and put me out of my misery already!

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Do the Work!
Date: May 23 2011 17:49
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele
I’m very glad you’ve had a good day. But would you please do your research? You can’t be doing it while you messaging me.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I hit send. Less than five minutes later my blackberry buzzes again!

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Local pest
Date: May 23 2011 17:52
To: Christian Steele
Mr. Grey, there is a local pest who keeps e-mailing me and keeping me doing the task at hand. He really must be stopped. I’m trying to work towards another A here.

What the fuck! She’s going to combust me here! I grin so wide my face hurts, and had she been here, I’d peel her off her clothes and tie her up and have my way with her already. As it is, she is determined to torture me. Oh the comeback possibilities... Anastasia baby, you don’t know what I can do to you... How I can have you beg for me, and tease and torture you for a completion like you are doing to me right now! She’s a tease...

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Impatient
Date: May 23 2011 17:54
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele
Would you please stop e-mailing me and do your assignment? The sooner you finish studying, the sooner I can have the chance to award you another A.
I’m still reeling in from the first one as it was so well deserved. ;)

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it Miss Steele. Two can play at that game... Another buzz... Come on! You’re killing me here!

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Search topic
Date: May 23 2011 17:58
To: Christian Steele

Mr. Grey,
I’m at a loss here as to what kind of search string I should enter on the search engine.

Oh! She needs help with her homework. That’s great. I can help.

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Impatient
Date: May 23 2011 18:00
To: Anastasia Steele
Dear Miss Steele
Start with Wikipedia. There’s a lot of information there.
And don’t send me any more e-mails unless you have questions. Got it?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

Another buzz! God! Does she ever listen? Is she at all submissive? Even a tiny miniscule bit?

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Bossy!
Date: May 23 2011 18:02
To: Christian Steele
Alright! You are so bossy... oh yeah, Sir!


She’s after mine own heart. What do I do with her playful, teasing ways? I’m being tortured here by a twenty-one year old innocent girl! I’d like to be reciprocating, if she at all finishes her work. I hit reply.

From: Christian Grey
Subject: In control
Date: May 23 2011 18:04
To: Anastasia Steele
Baby, you have no idea.
Maybe you may just have some inclination. Do the work.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.


Now I wait again. I hate waiting. I try to occupy myself with my piled up work, going through business acquisitions, and new business ventures. That should occupy half my brain for the time being. I spend the next two and a half hours working. Then I jump with the buzzing from my Blackberry.
She has a question. She probably got through a lot of the documents. I anxiously open the message, and she manages to drop open my jaw!

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Shocked of WSUV
Date: May 23 2011 20:33
To: Christian Steele
Alright, I think I’ve seen enough.
It was nice knowing you.

What?!? No, No, No! I'm doubly exasperated, both my hands running through my hair. She can’t just drop me without giving me a reason! Well, ok, there is a reason. She may not be ready for what I’m asking of her, but I don’t want her to do that over an e-mail. She’s running! I can’t take it! I have had a fucking hard day not seeing her. My mind has been freaking out and I’ve been freaking Taylor out here with my edginess. God, no!! I feel my heart constricting, and I can’t breathe! I want her to tell me she doesn’t want me to my face. I better fucking remind her how good it was to know me. If she doesn’t want me after I’m through with her... No, I can’t think about that. She has to know that we’re good together. Good for each other!
I speed dial, “Taylor!”
“Yes, sir,” he responds after the first ring.
“I’m going to Miss Steele’s apartment,” I say a little edgy.
He gets concerned with the tone of my voice, “Is everything alright sir? Is she well?” Why is he getting all concerned and mushy over her?
I speak through my gritted teeth.“Yes.” I hang up.
I make it to her door within fifteen minutes. I ring the doorbell, and roommate answers. She narrows her eyes.
“Grey,” she says by the way of greeting.
“Miss Kavanagh,” I say curtly.
“I’m here to see Anastasia,” I say explaining my presence.
“She’s in her room,” she says and opens the door wider to let me in. I have my car keys in my hand twirling them as a nervous gesture. I slowly walk to Anastasia’s door. I quietly open it as if not to disturb her. She’s sitting at her desk, her hair is in pigtails hitching my breath, with her ear buds in her ears listening to her iPod and studying the contract I gave her! My heart leaps with a sigh of relief. She might still be considering it. But I still have to persuade her.
She senses my presence in the doorway, and looks up from her task. Slowly taking her ear buds off, completely shocked to see me there.
“Good evening Anastasia,” I say coolly greeting her. My expression guarded, and unreadable. There is a volcano brewing underneath, but it’s an expression I’ve mastered. My breathing soft. She looks hot, sweaty from a workout, run? I’m pleased. Confused, but pleased. She worked out. It has possibilities. She’s also speechless. I walk a few steps into her bedroom.
“I felt that your e-mail message warranted a reply in person,” I said dryly.
“Ah,” a nearly inaudible whimper escaped her mouth. She’s still speechless, dumbstruck, and a complete turn on.
“May I sit?” I say pointing the bed. Her "for once I’ve lost my smart mouth” face expression does things to me inside. I have a wicked gleam in my eyes. Oh, baby, do I have ideas of what I want to do to you!
I coolly look around. “I always wondered what your room would look like Anastasia,” I say. It’s a simple room, functional, and homey. She has simple wicker furniture, a single bed, and a quilted bed spread. Clean, simple and peaceful.
“It’s very serene and peaceful here,”I say absently. She’s looking around for an escape route. Baby, you're not fast enough for me! I could catch you in my sleep! You’re not escaping me! Not till I give you all I got, and then let’s see if you still want to leave me?
“How?” she breathes without being able to finish her sentence.
I smile at her. “I’m still in town at Heathman.” Did she just roll her eyes at me? She shakes her head, and asks,“Would you like something to drink?”
“No thank you Anastasia,” I say politely, smiling. Her breath hitches. I cock my head to the side. Let’s get down to business Miss Steele.
“So, it was nice knowing me?” I say gazing at her. I don’t know what she reads in my expression. Do I show hurt? I hope not. I’ve mastered to cover my emotions a long time ago. She gazes down, and looks at her small hands.
“I thought you’d send me an e-mail as a response,” she says absently, and starts chewing her lower lip.
Damn! Is she trying to torture me here? If she is, she is doing a great job at it! First she e-mails me saying it was nice knowing me, like she doesn’t want to see me, and when I show up here, she uses all her innocent feminine wiles completely without effort and intention to torture me, and now chews her lower lip calling me to fuck her! She knows what it does to me! Why is she such a tease?
“Are yo biting your lower lip on purpose?” I ask my passion darkening my voice. She gasps and releases her lip.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware I was doing it,” she breathes softly.
In this small room, with her close proximity, the air is thick with static, and passion. It’s worse than the Heathman’s elevator! I can barely contain myself. She’s close enough to touch. I sit forward putting my elbows on my knees, pushing my legs apart so she sees what affects she’s having on me. Her breath hitches. Damn! I can’t take it anymore! I lean forward and reach to her hair. She has pigtails, and I slowly pull them from the hair scunci’s captivity. They fall free over her shoulders. Both of our breathing shallow. She looks hypnotized while bewitching me herself. I run my fingers through her hair.
Once again noticing her sweats, I breathe, “So you decided to do some exercise,” I say with approval and pleasure in my voice. I tuck her hair behind her ears. I want to know why she wants to leave me. Why she is deciding against us. Am I so bad for her?
“Why Anastasia?” I breathe with a hard effort to hide my worry. My fingers work their way down to her earlobes softly circling and rubbing them rhythmically. I know she’ll feel it in her groin, and her sex. She leans her head into my fingers absently.
“I just need time to think,” she whispers, her eyes desirous. Am I like Icarus willingly running into the sun? Doesn’t she know that? Because that is exactly what I feel... That I can’t escape her captivation. Like a moth to flame. I’m willing to burn for her! Doesn’t she know that?
“What do you wish to think about Anastasia?” I ask softly.
“You,” she whispers softly.
I gave her a bitter smile saying, “and you’ve decided that it was nice knowing me? Knowing me in the Biblical sense?”She flushes remembering what we’ve done together. How perfectly we fit, and tango, and reach to places that neither of us can go alone or with someone else. She remembers. And me? I couldn’t get it out of my head, not even in my dreams.
She shifts, and whispers, “I didn’t know you were familiar with the Bible, Christian.”
“Oh I went to Sunday school Anastasia. The things you can learn there...” I drift off.
“Really?” she says dryly. “Which version of the Bible did you read about the nipple clamps and butt plugs? I guess you have had the reformed version. Mine was kind of outdated compared to yours.”
This woman’s smart mouth is so fucking refreshing, I can’t get enough of it. I love it! She stands up to me though she blushes all the way through. I can’t, I won’t, I can’t leave her. She just can’t leave me! We’ re so great together! My smile is salacious and wide.
I lean into her ear and whisper, “Well Miss Steele. I thought I should come in person and remind your delectable self how nice it was knowing me...” and run my nose through her hair, and her cheek and finally over her nose.
“What do you say to that Anastasia?”
My eyes blazing into hers, my challenge is standing. My lips are parted with desire. I am so full of desire for her, one touch from her will be my undoing. I’m like a coiled cobra ready to strike. She looks at me desire building in her eyes. She too can’t escape it. We’re meant for each other. She wants me too. Oh baby, what I will do to you tonight!
I can see in her eyes that she can’t take the pent up desire in her and she’s ready to jump me, and that pleases me immensely. So, you want to attack. As she jumps at my arms, I move quickly and she’s on the bed, and I’m on top of her pinning her beneath me. Holding her hands above her head with one hand, and pinning her face with the other while my desire filled mouth finds and invades hers.
My tongue is relentless, finding its way into her mouth, staking its claim and possessing her, and declaring her mine once again. I exert all my will, all my desire, all my force on her. My length is a hard press on her making its desire known. I want her so badly, I will combust if I don’t. I need her. This is the only way I know how to show her my wantonness and desire for her.
My desire for her is so tangible you can touch it. My eyes are smoldering, I’m going to combust if I don’t have her tonight. I gaze down at her. I want her to trust me. I want to show her how good we can be together. What we cannot do alone or with anyone else, I want her to see the heights I can take her to. I gaze down at her intensely.
“Do you trust me Ana?” I breathe fervently.

I take my silver silk tie out of my pants pocket, the one I first tied her with. I’m quite fond of this tie now. It’s laden with her scent. I sit astride on her, and tie her wrists quickly and to the metal headboard so she can’t move them. The binding is secure. I glance at her. The sight of it such a turn on. She’s aroused beyond belief, and I’m ready to claim her mine again.
But first, tit for tat. She’s made me suffer all day, and now it’s her turn for a little while. I slide off her, and stand beside the bed, but I still have an immense desire to have my way with her right here right now. But I have to exercise control. I feel victorious, and relieved that she still wants me. I may not be a lost cause after all.
“This is great,” I murmur, and smile wickedly. I slowly bend down, and sensually undo her shoe laces, and slowly pull them off. She knows what I am going to do. Oh! What I can do to you Miss Steele. She starts kicking, knowing. I stop, and smile.
“Oh baby, go ahead and struggle, because if you do, I’m going to tie your feet as well. And darling, if you make a single noise, then I’ll gag you. Keep quiet. Your roommate is probably listening to us right now.”
She’s bewildered and quieted down. Once I take the shoes and her socks off, I slowly and efficiently peel her sweat pants off. I lift her sweet behind off the bed and pull the duvet and sheet down and put her back down on the bed again.
Oh what a sight! “Now then,” I say licking my lip slowly, and she started biting her bottom lip again absently with desire. “Oh baby! You’re biting that lip again! You know what that does to me...” I say, she gasps, and makes a sound of desire. I place my finger on her lips to remain silent.
I then remove my shoes and socks off making a great big show for her while she’s lying in bed helpless, wanting me, desiring me, and ready to jump my bones, but unable. I slowly undo my pants, but leave it on. I pull my shirt off and put it aside.
“I think you’ve seen enough of a show baby,” I say, and chuckle because she’s expectant, and wanting and wanton. I pull her t-shirt up and over her head, keeping her mouth, and nose open, but completely covering her eyes. This is beyond hot! I love the way she looks right now... (← I Got a Feeling by Black Eyed Peas)
“This just gets better and better. Mmm. You’re just yummy... I’m going to get a drink.” Grinning salaciously, knowing she’s surprised. I make a noisy show of walking through the room, open the door, and go to the living room. The roommate sees me half naked and surprised. Kate's gaze narrows but appreciative. She knows her roommate is having fun. I give nothing away.
“Hi Kate,” I say, “Do you have any wine in the house?”
She looks surprised, but nods, “Yes, we should have some white wine in the fridge.”
“The freezer has an automatic ice maker,” she grins, but turns to her task at hand. I take the wine bottle from the fridge, and put some ice in a water glass, and taking an additional water glass, and leisurely walk back to Anastasia’s room. She knows I’m back because I make a show of creaking the floor boards, and my feet padding across the bedroom floor.
Once I return to the room, I put my finds on the side table. I shut the door, and remove my pants, making enough noise to let her know what I’m up to. Then drop the pants down to the floor. I’m completely naked. I drop a few pieces of ice into the water glass loud enough to make her hear, then slowly pour some chilled wine over it. I take the glass in my hand, and climb over the bed sitting astride over Anastasia making her feel me.
“Are you thirsty, Anastasia?” I ask in a teasing voice. Tit for tat baby! You will beg me to take you.
“Yes,” she breathes. I swirl the glass with the wine in it so it cools down. She hears the ice clinking on the sides of the glass cup. Then I take a swig of it into my mouth, leaning over, I kiss her, and pour the crispy cold wine into her expecting mouth.
“More?” I whisper into her mouth. She nods. I give her another sip from mouth to mouth. She’s writhing in pleasure.
“I know you can only take so much liquor,”I say, “I don’t want to overdo it baby.” And her beautiful lips grin. I shift down and lie on her side, and now my erection is pressing to her side, and she know my carnal intentions.

“Is this nice?” I breathe into her ear.
She tenses with desire. Then I take another swig of wine with small shards of ice, and kissing and depositing the contents into her mouth. I then slowly trail cold kisses down the center of her body, slowly, painfully, at my own leisure starting at her throat. Then I move my chilled kisses down between her breasts, to her torso and to her belly. I put a piece of ice into her navel and a little bit of wine.
“Now you must keep still baby,” I whisper her. “Because if you don’t, you’ll get wine all over this nice bed,” I say slowly. Her hips flex automatically.
“Oh no baby! If you spill the wine, I will punish you.”
She groans and thugs at the restraints. She’s ready to beg. I smile inwardly.
My index finger trails up to her bra cup, and thug at it leisurely, freeing and pushing her breast up from the confines of the bra cup. I do the same for the other breast. Now they’re both exposed and at my beckoning. I tug and kiss each of her nipples with my cold lips. She tries to arch in response, but she is not supposed to spill the wine.
“How nice is this baby?” I breathe as I blow chilled air to one of her nipples.
I take another piece of ice, and swirl it around and around over one of the nipples while I thug and suck on the other one. She moans and struggles against the restraints, and full of passion and sweet torture.
“If you spill the wine, I won’t let you come Anastasia,” I say threatening.
Then comes the begging, “Oh... please Christian... please Sir... I need you... Please” she begs going insane. I smile. Yes baby. That’s what you made me feel like. Helpless, combusting, desirous, and unable to get fulfilled. All this waiting, all this wanting, and not having you! This is what you do to me! You torture me ever since I’ve met you, and you don’t even know it!
The ice in her navel starts melting with her rising body heat. She’s hot, she’s cold, she’s wanton, she’s desirous. She wants my sex!
My fingers trail over her belly lazily. Her over sensitized skin responds and flexes automatically, and the wine seeps over from her belly. I move quickly lapping it with my tongue, followed by kisses, and sucking, and biting and sucking again.
“Oh baby, you moved. What am I going to do with you?” She starts panting, and her body is on sensory overload. She’s writhing beneath me, and I slip my fingers into her panties, and push two fingers inside.
Feeling her wet to the core for me turns me on beyond belief, “Oh baby, you are so ready,” I murmur.
She tilts her hips up to meet my fingers. Her desire for me sets fire within me; I want to rock her world. (← You Rock My World by Michael Jackson)

“You’re such a greedy girl,” I mock scold her, and my fingers work their magic circling her clitoris. She groans and lifts her hips, and her body bucks beneath me.
“Please Christian! I want to touch you,” she breathes.
“I know baby,” I say, knowing what she wants, desiring her touch, but unable to receive it, because I am so fucked up! But I can’t dwell on that shit right now. All of a sudden I have an immense desire to have her, fuck her, claim her, make her mine, and stick my flag on her, short of branding her! That’s how much I damn well desire her! I just grab her hair; lift her head off the bed closing the gap between us with my mouth, claiming her inside her mouth. While my fingers move expertly over her clitoris, my mouth mirrors the actions, twirling, dancing, claiming, inhaling her. I’m infused with this woman, and I can’t get enough of it!
I relentlessly assault her mouth and her sex with my fingers and tongue.
“This is your punishment, so close yet so far. Is this nice?” I breathe into her ear. She’s tormented me, and I’m giving her a taste of her own medicine.
“Please Christian!” she begs, and that’s my undoing.
“How shall I fuck you Anastasia?” I growl.
All she can say is “Please!” begging.
“What do you want Ana?”
“I want you!... And I want it now!”she cries out.
I continue to tease. “There are just so many ways to do that. Shall I fuck you this way, or that way, or the other way... Choices are endless.”
I take a packet of condom, and rip the foil. I kneel between her legs, and painfully slowly pull her panties off. The sight before me is so sweet, I can’t contain myself any longer, and roll the condom on. I pull her shirt off her head, so she can see what she’s up against. Then, I make a show of what she could have, but still too far from having.
“How nice is that?” I say stroking myself.

“Please Christian! I meant that as a joke.” She pleads, her eyes says, “Just fuck me already!”
She tortured for a joke? I was going out of my mind, and it was just a joke?
“A joke?” I say softly menacingly.

“Yes, just a joke. Please Christian!”she begs.
“Are you laughing now?” I ask.
“No,” she whimpers.
Tens of emotions are going through my head, and I’m so pent up with this sexual desire, and I was a toy in her hands. Well, you’ll get your first taste of punishment Miss Steele!
I suddenly push her knees up off the bed into the air and slap her butt as hard as I can. And before she can make a single sound, I plunge into her. She cries out with the ferocity of my assault. I fuck, and fuck and fuck her repeatedly making her come many times over! Again and again and again! I don’t stop. This is her punishment fuck! She’s spent, and she’s going against me, absorbing all I have to give her... She’s building and coming again.. Once more..
“Come on, Anastasia! Again!” I growl at her through clenched teeth, and she convulses again, and climaxes anew with another shattering orgasm, finally I find my release collapsing on top of her, my breathing rugged.
“How nice was that?” I ask through gritted teeth.
We both lie in bed panting and spent. I am on top of the pleasure mountain, and though I gave her a punishment fuck, I can’t get enough of her. I haven’t had my fill of her. I close my eyes, and slowly pull out of her. I rise out of the bed immediately, and dress up. I climb back on the bed, and untie her hands, and pull her t-shirt off. She readjusts her bra, and I cover her with the duvet. She looks at me completely bemused and dazed. I can’t help but smirk at her expression.

“That was very nice,” she whispers.
Damn woman! I gave you all I’m worth, and I only made it to “nice”!
“There’s that word again,” I say.
“What word?”
“Nice,” I say.
“You don’t like that?”
“Nope, it doesn’t do for me at all.” I say dryly.
“Oh, I don’t know, it seems to have a very beneficial effect on you.”
Can you insult me any more than that?
“Am I a beneficial effect now Miss Steele. You’re wounding my ego.” I say.
“Mr. Grey, there’s nothing wrong with your ego.”
“Is that what you think Miss Steele?”I say, and slowly lie next to her fully clothed.
“Why don’t you like to be touched Christian?” she asks.
“I just don’t,” I say brusquely, but soften the blow by planting a kiss on her forehead. “So the email was your idea of a joke?”
She smiles apologetically and shrugs.
“Does that mean that you’re still considering my proposal?” I ask.
“Do you mean, your indecent proposal Mr. Grey?” she asks smiling, and her tone changes to serious, “Yes, I am, but I have issues.” I can deal with that.
A contract can be negotiated. I just don’t want her to leave me altogether.
“Anastasia, I expect you to have issues. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“I was going to email you those, but you sort of interrupted me,” she said smiling shyly.
“Coitus interruptus.” I say, then she gives me a genuine smile.
“I knew you had a sense of humor somewhere in there,” she says.
But my eyes turn serious. Some things are funny. But not her leaving me! I can’t handle it! It’s like ripping out my heart and laughing at the results.
“Some things are funny. But, I just thought that you were saying ‘No’ to me without even giving any consideration, with no discussion. No say from me at all.” My voice drops reflecting my forlorn mood all of a sudden.(← Sensual Mix by Enigma)
“I still haven’t made up my mind yet Christian. I don’t know yet. Will you collar me?”
I raise my eyebrows, she has been studying, “You’ve been studying up. Uhm. I don’t know. I’ve never collared anyone.”
“Were you collared?” she asks me surprising me.
“Yes,” I answer truthfully. I’m all full disclosure for her.
“By Mrs. Robinson?”
“Mrs. Robinson?” I laugh out loud. She sometimes just takes my breath away with her innocent observations. She smiles back at me.
“I’ll tell her that you said that,” I say.
Her answer is surprised, and disappointed, “Do you still talk to her?”
“Yes,” where is she going with that?
She looks jealous, and disturbed. “I see,” she says in a tight voice. “Isn’t it funny that Mr. Grey can talk his alternative lifestyle with someone, and I am not allowed to do that.”
How does she do that? She can just jump into the core of a matter baring all the shit.(← Rolling in the Deep by Adele)
“I don’t think I thought of it that way, ever. But then again, Mrs. Robinson is part of that lifestyle. She’s just a good friend now. I can introduce you to her if you so desire. Or if you wish you can meet one of my former subs. You can talk to her.” I say. I want to do everything I can to help her to make her introduction easy.
She gives me a look of “have you just lost all your marbles, and what sort of crap are you giving me?” Boy, she doesn’t have to say a word. She’s mastered talking through her expressions.
“Is this your idea of a joke?” she asks.
“No, Ana. I’m trying to be helpful.”
“Save it!” she says nearly in tears, and upset. “I’ll do my own research, thank you for your offered help,” she snaps at me, pulling the duvet covers over up to her chin, protectively.
I look at my damn shoes. How can I get that great big foot and wash it down through my mouth? I’m for once lost for words. I don’t know how to apologize.
“Anastasia, I...” I’m lost. Fucking lost! And kicking myself. What an asshole I am!
“It wasn’t my intention to offend you.”
“Offend me? I’m not offended! I’m appalled.”What? Why?
“Let me make this simple and clear for you Mr. Grey! I have no desire to speak to one of your ex-girlfriends, slaves, subs... You choose the proper pronoun for them if you will. Least of all your pedophile! I don’t give a shit about them. So, save it!”
I’m surprised at the strength of her emotions. She does have feelings for me. She’s jealous. And that makes it so frigging hot!
“Anastasia Steele – are you jealous?”I ask without being able to keep the smirk out of my voice.
She flushes beet red.
“Are you staying?” she asks instead.
“I can’t, I have a breakfast meeting tomorrow at Heathman. Besides, I told you, I don’t sleep with girlfriends, slaves, subs, or anyone. Friday and Saturday nights were exceptions. It won’t happen again.” I say resolutely.
She purses her lips.
“Fine. I’m tired now. You can just go. There’s the door, just in case you don’t know how to find it,” and turns over in bed on her side away from me.
“Are you kicking me out?” I say amused.
“Wow! You figured that out Sherlock?”she says mocking. Then softly adds, “Yes, that’s what I’m doing.”
“This is another first for me Ana. I’ve never been kicked out before.” I say, and add, “Do you have anything to discuss or talk about the contract?”

“Boy, you know how to show a girl good time by bringing that up. No!” she says.
God! I like to give you a good hiding! You’d feel a lot better and so would I! You’re driving me insane!” I say exasperated.
You can’t say things like that... I haven’t signed anything yet.
“A man can dream Anastasia,” I say leaning over and grasping her petulant chin. “Wednesday?” I murmur.
“Wednesday,” she agrees.
“Please pass me my sweat pants,” she asks. I pick it up off the floor, and say “yes, ma’am” handing it to her.

She narrows her eyes at me tight enough to blindfold her with a dental floss while putting her pants on.
She leaves the room ahead of me, walking across the living room, and opens the front door for me. I have an uneasy feeling something is wrong.
“Are you okay?” I lean down caressing her bottom lip.
“Yes,” she replies softly, sadly.
“Wednesday,” I confirm kissing her softly. But, I feel something is wrong. I want her to know I want her, I desire her, I need her. My kiss grows more urgent, deeper, and more demanding. My breathing accelerates, hers matching mine. Once I’m out of breath I slow down, and put my forehead against hers. I’m completely bewitched, and confounded with her, and I don’t know what takes over me when I ‘m near her.
What are you doing to me Anastasia?”I ask bewildered.
I could say the same to you,” she whispers back. I kiss her forehead once again, and leave to my car, glancing back once more. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, tainted with sadness. I’m uneasy. But, I slide into my car, and drive away.

(Boookmark is courtesy of Thank you Nicole! You're amazing)
(Bookmark is used with the courtesy of

I drive away from Anastasia’s apartment complex with an uneasy feeling tugging inside me. She looked forlorn. Was she unhappy about something? It’s hard to tell with her because she doesn’t communicate her feelings. Her mood switches so fast from hot to cold I can’t figure her out! (← Hot n Cold by Kathy Perry) She needs to communicate with me more. She’s so mercurial making it so hard for me to understand. Or is it my own mercurial mood reflecting on her?
I’ve had many women before, but never had to deal with any one of their moods since having full control over them. When they didn’t have to think or analyze, and accept the decisions made for them, they forego of their moods. Once she signs the contract, I can make her to be a lot more forthcoming. But I love her smart mouth. I love her the way she is. The way she looks at me, the way she talks to me with her facial expressions, and her attitude. And the way she kicked me out! No one, NO ONE had kicked me out before! Ever! It is so damn hot! If I had less control over my own feelings, I would just turn around and claim her again, but I have a meeting in the morning, and I can’t lose control.
But, why do I like her so much! When I’m not with her, my mind is completely occupied with her as if she’s in my presence. When I tried to stay away from her, tried to not have any contact with her, I was completely miserable as if an essential part of me was missing. I gave myself five days after I’ve met her, yet at every corner, I imagined her! Even after I started pursing her I tried to quit her once again, knowing who I am, knowing my own predilections. Knowing how innocent she was, I tried to protect her from myself... Yet, I find it impossible to stay away from her captivation.
When I’m not near her, I’m miserable, mean, nervous and an ogre to everyone around me. God knows I’ve tried to stay away! I tried to forget her. Yet, she kept pulling me like the moon would call the tide. And when I’m near her, she’s like the sun; both captivating with her allure and her gravity. When I see her, I want to touch her. When I even touch her fingertips, she’s captivated me and I’m nothing but a toy in her hands to do as she wishes. If she only knew! I’m tortured by knowing that she’s out there for someone else to take, because I have this horrendous fear that she may just slip away from my fingers. But if she signs the contract, it’s as if she’s giving me her word, her binding word even if it isn’t legally binding. It will show an understanding between us. The only way I understand, comprehends and know how to deal with. I know no other way. I know nothing but control. It is what I understand, what made me who I am. But here she is confining me, binding me with just one of her stares... one of her words that just laying out and clearing away all the shit.She’s both exasperating and refreshing. Both poison and antidote which I willingly take... Both pain and pleasure which I understand well... Nobody ever made me feel that way!
Trying to stop her is like trying to contain the wind, or holding something with greased hands. This makes me afraid, because it may just make her slip off my fingers. I would die if I lost her, if I didn’t have her completely or if someone else laid a claim on her! I may feel proprietor towards her, but this is not about owning her. It’s beyond any sort of ownership. It’s merging our souls, being one entity as if never to separate again. When I see her, I see beyond her face. I see the depths of her soul. I have no one to compare her to, or what I feel for her, how fervent my desire is for her! It is not just lust, though good Lord knows it’s ever present. It’s beyond that. I feel alive! I feel like I can take on anything, tackle anything, do anything, achieve anything and yet completely helpless because she’s so damn a life force of her own! She looked like a spring breeze, but God damn it! She’s an F5 tornado in my life wreaking havoc in my already tormented soul!
I’m afraid that any little thing might harm her. Like that would-be rapist she’s allowing to call, or her boss’brother like white on rice as if he’s ready to tackle her in isle 7 right between the electrical wires and the plumbing fixtures, or that she drinks herself senseless, or she eats a total of three bites within the course of two days! The thought of her getting hurt without my protection is driving me out of my mind! What was it that Catherine Earnshaw said about Heathcliff in the Wuthering Heights, “If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained and he were annihilated, the universe would be a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it.” I would die! Let alone being a part of a universe she didn’t exist, I wouldn’t want to be in it. I’d want to be wherever she is! What is it that makes me desire her so? Can Catherine Earnshaw tell me?
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but my own being.
That’s exactly how I feel for Anastasia. She’s me, not because we’re alike, but because she’s my missing piece. The piece that makes me a whole person out of my whole fuckedup fifty shades... She is what completes me! Until she sprawled with all of her five feet seven inches of her into my life, I never knew she was what was missing out of my life. Now that I’ve seen her, now that I’ve tasted her, claimed her, made love to her, fucked her; there is no way out, no going back for me. Losing her would be beyond torture for my already tortured soul.
I wish I knew what she wanted! I wish she spoke to me, communicated with me more explicitly. Getting her talk to me is like pulling teeth out of her. I have to use all my skills to get her communicate with me. I have to read her body language, her facial expressions, and combine it with her words, and then I try to make sense out of it, because she can be cryptic.
With the thoughts of her clouding my mind, I make my way to the Heathman Hotel. The valet is waiting ready to park the car. I toss my keys to him. I try to make my way to the elevators to get to my suit after the doorman’s greeting. I walk to the back and press the call button for the elevator. When the door dings open, I walk in, and here she is again in my mind! I close my eyes until the elevator reaches my floor, and I don’t open them until the elevator dings again.
I walk into my suite, and send a quick text to Taylor letting him know that I’m back, and he can turn in.
He types back: “Thank you sir.”
I go to the fridge and grab white wine, and pour it into a cut crystal glass. I take a sip of the cool chilled wine, savoring it. It leaves a pleasant taste as it goes down. I make my way to my laptop. I want to send her a message but without being overbearing, just showing enough interest and type Anastasia a message:
From: Christian Grey
Subject: This evening
Date: May 23 2011 23: 18
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele
I look forward to receiving your notes and counter offers on the contract.
Until then, good night baby.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holding Inc.

I inhale deeply and walk to the piano in the suite. I sit and start playing the “Suffocation” by Chopin. Over and over and over again... Repeatedly... Until I lose myself in the piece. (← Prelude in E-Minor-op.28 no.4 by Frederic Chopin)
I hear the ding of my e-mail message while I’m lost in the piece about fifteen minutes after I send Anastasia the message. It'd better not be her! She had better be sleeping. She has work tomorrow! She needs to keep herself healthy. I make my way to the laptop within a few easy strides. Damn it! It’s her!

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Issues
Date: May 23 2011 00: 03
To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey
The following are my issues with the contract. I’m looking forward to discussing them in detail on Wednesday at dinner. The numbers I’ve indicated are clause #s within the contract:

2: This clause states that the fundamental purpose of the contract is to allow the Submissive (me) to explore her sensuality and limits. Huh! How is that for MY benefit? Are you in the business of solely providing pleasure to the subs? I’m quite certain that you don’t need to give me a ten page contract to achieve that end! I’m positive that this is for YOUR benefit.

4: Is this contract a generic crap you give to every sub? Because this clause says that the Dominant and the Submissive each warrant that they suffer from no sexual, serious, infectious or life-threatening illness and you know the STDs in your list. Mr. Grey, are you trying to insult me here? You damn well know that you’ve been my first and only sexual partner. I don’t take drugs recreationally or otherwise, and haven’t had any blood transfusion. I’m most likely a very safe partner. What say you about yourself Mr. Grey?

8: Ok. I’m liking this one since I can terminate when I think you are not sticking to your end of the agreed limits.

9: WTF? The submissive shall serve and obey the Dominant in all things? And furthermore, you want me to accept your discipline with no qualms at all? Aha! Not liking this. We need to talk about this one.

11: This clause states that the contract shall be effective for a period of three calendar months from the Commencement date. No. One month trial period; not three.

12: You’re asking me to make myself available to the Dominant (you) from Friday evenings through Sunday afternoons every week during the term. I can’t commit to this every weekend. I have a life, or I would like to have one. Can we do three out of four?

15.2: The dominant accepts the submissive as his, to own, control, dominate and discipline during the term. He may use her body at any time, any manner he deems fit sexually or otherwise. This is my body you’re talking about. What does “or otherwise” entail?

15.5: I have a big issue with this whole discipline clause. I don’t wish, desire, want to be whipped, flogged, or corporally punished. I’m certain that this would be a breach of the clauses 2 through 5 in the contract. And what do you mean “For any other reason”? This is mean! You told me you weren’t a sadist.

15.10: This interesting clause states that the dominant shall not loan his submissive to another dominant. Oh buddy! Do you think that was even an option I would agree? But, I’m glad it’s in black and white here.

15.14: The appendix 1 has a list of “the Rules”. We’ll talk about those later.

15.19: Says that the submissive shall not touch or pleasure herself sexually without permission from the Dominant. Not without your permission? What’s wrong with doing that? You know I’m not in the habit of doing that.

15.21: Discipline – see 15.5 above.

15:22: Weird! The submissive shouldn’t look directly into the eyes of the dominant except when you instruct me? Why can’t I look into your eyes?

15:24: This one says that I shouldn’t touch you without your expressed permission. No touching? Why can’t I touch you?
Rule issues:
Sleep: I’ll agree to sleep 6 hours. No more. Food – you cannot make me eat food only from a prescribed list. This is a deal breaker. Either this rule goes, or I will. Clothes – As long as you don’t require me to wear them when I’m not with you, fine. I’ll assume they’re uniforms. Exercise – I thought we agreed to 3 hours. This contract says 4 here.
Soft limits:
We have to go through these. I don’t want any sort of fisting. What do you mean suspension? I’ve no idea what that entails. Are you kidding me when you say genital clamps? Agh!
Would you please let me know about your arrangements for Wednesday? I work till 5 p.m.
Good night.

Oh dear God! She stayed up this late to type up this long list? Why is it so long? Why does she have issues with all these? She needs to go to bed. I have the rules for her benefit, and both of our enjoyment. She shouldn’t be up; she should be in bed and sleeping already. It is in direct conflict with the contract’s rule for sleep. She needs to be up early in the morning for work. She needs to be warned!
From: Christian Grey
Subject: This evening
Date: May 23 2011 00:08
To: Anastasia Steele
Miss Steele
This is a very long list. Why haven’t you gone to bed?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holding Inc.

Not a few minutes passed since I sent my message, and she types up another one instead of going to bed! She should really be spanked for this transgression!
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Burning the midnight oil
Date: May 23 2011 00:11
To: Christian Grey
Dear Sir,
You may recall that as I was studying the list this evening, I was distracted and bedded by a passing control freak.
Good night.
My face grins ear to ear as my heart softens for her. She did it again! Her words just enthrall me, confound me, and bind me to her. I write her a response immediately.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Stop burning the midnight oil
Date: May 23 2011 00:13
To: Anastasia Steele

Christian Grey
CEO, & Control Freak, Grey Enterprises Holding Inc.

Take that and smoke it in your pipe Miss Steele, I say grinning ear to ear again. I should go to bed too. I have an early breakfast meeting tomorrow morning. I slowly walk into the bedroom, taking my shirt and pants off leaving only the boxers on; I go to the bathroom brush my teeth remembering Miss Steele using my toothbrush in this very place feeling her in my mouth. Her lips, her nipples her body, her sex... Damn it Anastasia!I can’t even forget you for a minute in the frigging bathroom doing a simple task like brushing my teeth!
Shaking my head I walk to my bed. I take my iPod, plugging the ear buds into my ears start listening to Puccini’s “O mio babbino caro” (← O mio babbino caro – Giacomo Puccini)
I look at the ceiling as if it’s holding the secrets of the universe, and my attachment to Anastasia. I slowly close my eyes thinking of her.
I’m at the Heathman Hotel’s bar having a martini with olives. I feel her gaze on me before I see her. I slowly turn my head to lock eyes with her: Grey to blue. My breath hitches with the sight of her. She’s breathtaking. She has a black lace backless dress on, her hair elegantly lifted off and done up in an elegant bun showing her beautiful long neck. The dress barely reaches her knees. She has high heeled Christian Louboutins showing off her elegant legs. Her make-up is so light as if her face was born in her elegant color. My subconscious reminds me to breathe. I automatically get up and find my feet start walking towards her. Without a word I proffer my hand and also without a word she takes it. Both of our breathing shallow.
“I wasn’t expecting you today,” I say finally finding my voice. “But, this is the best of the surprises Anastasia!” I say my gaze piercing hers with full of passion. She nods and shyly lowers her gaze to our connected hands visibly gasping.
“Have you eaten? Would you like something to drink?” I find myself asking.
“No food,” she says as my eyes gaze at her questioning. “I might want some white wine though,” she murmurs. Her hands are shaking like leaves.
“Is something the matter?” I ask with concern. “You’re shaking like a leaf Anastasia,” my eyes examining her, trying to decipher her expression.
“Come,” I take her hand, “let’s sit,”I pull her as I motion to a waiter to get us a private table.
“I can’t stay long Christian,” she says firmly.
“But you are here, why can’t you stay?”I ask my heart racing up to my throat.
“I,...” she drifts off, looking at her hands again.
I take her to the table the waiter is leading us in a quiet corner of the restaurant. My gaze is on her. Curious, worried, anxious. Is she here to deliver a bad news?
“Anastasia?” I probe her.
“Christian, I...” she cuts off, trying to gather her thoughts to word them.
“I can’t do it... I’m sorry, but I just can’t agree to your terms. They’re too harsh. Too outside the scope of anything I have envisioned for myself. I’m not judging. It may be right for some people, but not for me! I want more... More out of my life... More out of my relationship... More...” she drifts off.
“Anastasia, I...” this time I feel speechless. “I’m not used to it. I don’t know any other way. This is the only way I know.” I’m nervous, and upset that she’s about to slip through my fingers.
“But you’re here!” I say fervently. “In this,” I make a grand gesture with my hands showing her dress that looks like as if someone poured it on her. I’d love to get my hands on her bare back, and run my fingers through her legs. But I don’t. My knuckles just sweep through her chin, and her breath hitches, eyes closing.
“Don’t Christian,” she says.
“Why?” I say fervently. “I can make you stay!”
“I know!” she says, “you can, but I have to leave. This, whatever we have here, isn’t for me. I’m going to get hurt,” she gets up to go.
“Please Ana!” is all I can say in a pleading voice! I can’t let her go! I won’t! I care so much about her. I don’t think I can do without her!
“Let me at least walk to your car,” I say. She nods.
She gives the valet her ticket, and we stand in silence while my gaze is intense on her. I want to touch her, love her, hold her, consume her, but I just stare. I take a step towards her. She backs up a step.
“Please don’t!” she says in a slow voice.
“Why not?” I demand.
“I don’t get to touch you. Why should it be any different for you?” she says in a sad forlorn voice.
“Ana... I...” I say without a way to explain what is wrong with me. “I’m fifty shades of fucked up baby! I don’t want this on you.” I say.
“I know. Maybe this is best,” she says without conviction.
“Can I kiss you at least?” I say.
She closes her eyes, fighting with her emotions, and urges.
“I can’t. Because if we do, I won’t be able to leave!” she says nearly in tears. (← The Scientist by Cold Play)
I’m exasperated, and worried, and upset. Both my hands running through my hair. “Please Ana!” I plead in a low voice. “Don’t leave! Don’t do this! We’re so good together!”
“I can’t stay!”
“Why?!?” I say fervently, forcefully.“Why Anastasia? Why don’t you want me?”
“Because you’ll burn me. Because you scare me with your intensity, with your power, and your wealth, and I know you’ll hurt me! If not physically, emotionally!” She’s in tears and leaving; leaving me! (← Lost by Michael Buble) She walks away. Away from me!
My feet fixed on the ground unable to move an inch. She’s about to go out of my life and my friggin feet are frozen in place unable to move! Only when I am able to gather my thoughts they connect with my brain and I run after her to her car. The valet drives her car up which surprises me anew. It’s old, not road worthy, and looks like it won’t even make it out the parking lot let alone get her home. She eases into her car noticing me standing.
“Please Anastasia! Don’t go!” I say fervently. “This car doesn’t even look like it’s roadworthy! Please, let’s talk!”
“No, see, right there! How can I compete with you Christian? You have everything? You criticize my car although this is all I can afford. How can I be in your league? You’ll get tired of me like one of your new toys, and move on. I can’t have that!”
“Ana! No!” She drives away in that clunker of a car with tears streaming from her eyes. I speed dial Taylor.
“Bring the car up front ASAP!” I hang up.
I’m not losing her! I won’t! I’m the son of a crack whore... Had it not been for Dr. Grace Trevelyan-Grey who knows what would have happened to me? I’m not any better than anyone! Certainly not from Anastasia! She can’t hold my wealth against me. This is America for God’s sake! Anyone who has ambition enough can make it big! I will get her back! (← Everything by Michael Buble)
I hear the screech of the Audi SUV in the dark. Taylor swings open the passenger door.
“Let’s roll! Miss Steele just left in the clunker of a car. I want to make sure she gets home safe.” He nods without a word.
The traffic is the tail end of heavy.
“Right there! The yellow VW!” I point to Taylor. It’s about six cars ahead of us, trying to move into fast lane. What is she doing? That car couldn’t even make 50 mph, she’s pushing 80! I shouldn’t have let her leave so upset.
“Taylor, get on the HOV lane! Maybe we can catch up to her that way! She’s getting into the fast lane.” He nods and signals quickly darts three lanes and moves into the HOV lane on the freeway. She’s now about eight cars ahead of us. What is she doing pushing so hard?
We push hard, but she’s still ahead of us! How’s she doing that?
“Taylor! You can drive a tank but can’t catch up with a girl’s crappy VW?” His face goes crimson, and eyes fixed on the road, he weaves in traffic pushing hard. We finally make it back into the HOV lane, and sidle her car. I open my window, and motion her to open hers.
Anastasia!” I say as calmly as possible. Her eyes are full of tears, I don’t know how she can see through them. “I want you to get out of the freeway baby! Right now...” I say with all my self-control and calmness. “Come on honey! We can talk... And if...” I broke off. It’s too hard to get it out of my lips. “And if you still don’t want me, then I’ll let you go... Okay?

She doesn’t say anything. Eyes fixed on the road, cheeks strained with onslaught of her tears, she manages to nod. She slows down just a notch. She signals to get out of the freeway. I give a sigh of relief. Nod to Taylor who also signals to get out of the freeway. Anastasia makes her way to the right most lane signaling to get out of the nearest exit. As she moves into the lane, a fast coming Chevy Impala just plows into her! Ana’s old VW spins three times before coming to a stop in the right lane shoulder. The freeway traffic comes to a halt. Everything is surreal! My heart is in my mouth, my hands are shaking, and my face is full of fury; to whom I don’t know! Maybe the whole world! Maybe the universe for screwing my life up many times over! Taylor speeds in front of Ana’s car. I rush out before he comes to a stop, and run to Anastasia’s car. She’s slumped over the steering wheel, blood gushing out of her temple. She’s motionless. My heart stops! The car door is jammed, and I can’t open it.
“Taylor! Give me a hand!” He grabs the wrench from the trunk and smashes the passenger window. Doubles his jacket and rips off the door of its hinges! I shove him out of the way, and pull Ana’s lifeless body out of the car. Shaking, crying.
Baby, why? Why do you leave me Ana?”Rocking back and forth, Anastasia in my arms. My white shirt soaked with her blood, but I don’t care. I don’t want to be where she isn’t. (← Without You –soundtrack from the Wuthering Heights)
“Fuck man! I didn’t know she was gonna jump in front of me!” says a half drunk voice. Then his voice changes to a familiarly disgusting tone:
Oh! It’s you little shit! When will you stop crying whore’s brat! I’m sick of you!” I hold my gaze up to look at this man, and it’s him! The crack whore’s pimp!

I hope to God that she leaves you on the street in the cold, so I don’t have to deal with a crying wimp like you little jerk wad!
My mind is confused, and angry! I want to kill that man who killed the only woman I loved!
Taylor’s face changes, and fast like a striking cobra he raises his elbow, and jumps up landing on the crack whore’s pimp striking him as hard as possible, and punches him repeatedly while I’m numb on the shoulder of the freeway with my blood soaked Anastasia sobbing uncontrollably!

My tears are flowing down and diluting Anastasia’s blood on her face. The paramedics come and try to take her away from me again. I won’t give her!

“Sir! You have to let her go!” Taylor pleads, “Sir, please!”
“She’s dead Taylor! She’s dead and it’s all my fault! The crack whore’s pimp killed my Ana!”
I sob and sob... And eventually my own cries wake me up. I'm in my suite at Heathman Hotel. I close my eyes with a sigh of relief. It was a nightmare. Oh God! I'm out of breath, tears streaming, my nose is running.
“Thank God! Thank God! Thank God! It was a nightmare!” It’s 4:40 a.m. on the clock. And I don’t want to go back to sleep. This is yet the worst nightmare I ever had. I have to call John, so I can talk to him over the phone at least. Oh hell! I’ll give him tonight. I’ll have to do it after my meeting.
I sit up in bed, my head in my hands and Heathcliff’s words come pouring down my mind after he waits all night for the news of Catherine Earnshaw’s well-being, finally finding her dead. When he holds her dead body he cries out in agony:
I don’t want any harm to come to Anastasia, but, like Heathcliff, I cannot live without my soul. She gives me my humanity back, she gives me my soul. Oh, Anastasia! What are you doing to me? What can I do to keep you, to keep you safe, keep you mine? My heart aches every time I think of her. My soul yearns for her. My mind is always clouded with thought of her as if a time before Anastasia didn’t exist. As if I was a lost planet and found my sun. As if we belong together. Yes, we belong together. Always. (← The Lion Fell in Love with the Lamb by Carter Burwell)

(Bookmark is used with the courtesy of

(Bookmark is used with the courtesy of
Since I’m up already, and sleep departed me, I go to my laptop and read Anastasia’s last e-mail over and over again. My mood changes with the details of her response. She can communicate with me in writing so much better than she does when she is talking to me. I must have a bigger effect on her than I initially thought. But since she’s negotiating, I put on my business face on, type up her a response:

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Your Issues
Date: May 24 2011 04:58
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

I have thoroughly examined your issues, and I now feel the need to bring your attention to the definition of the word “submissive.”
submissive [suhb-mis-iv] – adjective
1. inclined or ready to submit; unresistingly or humbly obedient: submissive servants.
2. marked by or indicating submission: a submissive reply.
Origin: 1580–90; submiss + -ive
Synonyms:1. tractable, compliant, pliant, amenable. 2. passive, resigned, patient, docile, tame, subdued. Antonyms:1. rebellious, disobedient.

I would please like you to keep this in mind for our Wednesday meeting.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.


What say you to that Miss Steele? (Strange Love by Depeche Mode) I want her to submit to me, because I can take care of her, because I can protect her while she explores depths and heights of her sensuality, her passion; I can take her to places she didn’t know exist, make her experience pleasure she didn’t know possible. It can’t be done without her giving herself to me completely, creating the trust between us. This is essentially trusting the person in control. You fall, I catch. She has to let go of the doubts that I wouldn’t catch. This is about trusting each other. I want, no, I need her to trust me for our arrangement to work. I have to have control. It’s all I know, it’s what works for me, and it’s when I have order out of the chaos surrounding me.

I decide to work out. I run several miles, and lift weights and punch and kick a punching bag to get out my overnight frustration. In the past two nights, the thoughts of Miss Steele managed to do two things: Gave me the biggest wet dream I’ve had, and the worst nightmare of my life. She’s both poison and antidote. She confounds me even in my sleep. Her captivity, her pull, her gravity is inescapable. She tortures me with one of her looks, one of her expressions, one of her witty comments. Why Anastasia, why and how do you torture me so? Though I love her wittiness, and love the way she stands up to me, I would also love to subdue that smart mouth. Because it scares me to the core! Scares me that she may be gone, scares me that she may get hurt, and I may not have any power to prevent it because she’s like the wind.

“Shall I meet you at your suite sir?”

“No. Meet me downstairs at 7:30. The restaurant,” I say.

“Yes, sir.” He replies.

I make my way back to my suite, take my shower, and put on my pants and white shirt and make my way to the hotel’s restaurant. Taylor is already there being inconspicuous, but ever present. He may look deceptively uninterested, or distant, or looking away from you, but he is ever watchful of the people I’m having breakfast meeting with. The breakfast meeting goes without a hitch.

An hour later I’m back in my suite, and Taylor is making himself scarce in my suite. I call John Flynn.
“Hello Christian,” he answers with confidence after the third ring.
“John,” I say firmly by the way of greeting.
“I haven’t seen you this week. I take that you’re busy,” he says. It’s his way of probing to see what the matter is.

“I’m in Portland,” I say.
“Aha,” interpretation: what’s up?
“I will be handing out diplomas for the WSU graduation ceremonies this coming Thursday,” I say.
“But I gather you haven’t gone there nearly a week early and cancelling on our appointment for the graduation. Is this the reason you’re calling me about?”
“Yes,” I say firmly.
“Christian, of all this time I’ve known you as a friend, and a patient, you’ve not been this closed up with any matter. What is making you tight lipped now?”
“I’ve met someone, and she’s the reason I’m here so early,” I say.
I think I hear a muffled near choking sound.
“Are you okay?” I probe concerned.
Yes,”his voice sounds like a squeak. Then he clears his throat, and answers in a more manly tone of “Yes, I’m quite well Christian. I was, Ahhh... anyway, you were saying?” he says with a lot of enthusiasm in his voice, completely interested where he normally speaks to me in his professional tone when we have our sessions, and given my persuasion of a lifestyle, not much phases him when it comes to me. He’s known all about my submissives, and that he knows that I’m a dominant and am interested only in this sort of relationship as this is the only kind of relationship I know and have experience in.
I met a girl, completely by accident. She came to interview me for the WSU school paper. She wasn’t even supposed to be interviewing me! It was actually her roommate that was supposed to interview me, and she got sick you see, with cold or flu or some shit like that... And I’m really glad she did! Not glad that she was sick, but that she was unable to come! Because she asked her roommate, Anastasia,” I say with an unexpected reverence in the tone of my voice, and John notes that because he makes another squeaking sound. I should do that more often to him, as he’s never surprised with me.
and Anastasia was the one who actually came to interview me,” I say finally taking a pause to take a breath. John or Dr. Flynn as his patients know him takes my pause as his cue to ask a question.
I'm glad you're very verbose with me now Christian. And you’ve discovered that this Anastasia is another submissive? Is she a woman who prefers your lifestyle?” he asks very interested. I would have broken any other person’s nose for asking me such a question, but I pay Dr. John Flynn a small fortune to ask me such things, and he did sign an NDA, so he isn’t afraid to ask me his probing question, not if I want him to help me.
No, she isn’t,” I say as a matter of factly.
I hear another choking sound.
Dr. Flynn... John, are you okay? Should I just schedule a meeting with you? I really prefer not to,” neither do I care anyway, and he knows that; I’m not in the business of accommodating others. I’m used to getting my way. “But I prefer not to, unless you are having a medical emergency John, since you haven’t stopped choking since I called you,” I say dryly. And continue, “Because I actually really need to speak with you today about this! I just had a bad night... nightmares, but this time Anastasia was involved.”

Dr. Flynn is like having a sensory overload, an equal of Freudian orgasm with my declarations. I can feel his brain reeling from all this information he’s receiving from 165 miles away!
“I’ve no intention of getting off the phone with you Christian. Because, you might just have a breakthrough. Let me first get this quite clear. It isn’t this young woman who pursued you first?”
“No,” I confirm.
“So, you went to Portland...” he pauses, “from Seattle to pursue this young woman?”
“Yes.” I say firmly.
“And this young woman doesn’t share your lifestyle I gather.”
“Not yet, but I would like her to,”I say.
“I see...” says Dr. Flynn and pauses. “However, she is somewhat aware of this lifestyle that you’re trying to introduce her to?” he asks elaborating.
“She had no idea. She is...” I correct myself, “was a virgin,” I say.
Another choking voice followed by loud coughing. This time I wait. I don’t want to cause the death of my best shrink so far.
“Are you alright John?” I ask really concerned this time.
Coughing sounds continue away from the speaker of the phone. I hear his voice distant speaking into an intercom still half choking, “Eleanor, would you bring a glass of water please?” He continues to cough.
I hear his assistant’s voice in the distance urgent, “Right away Doctor Flynn!” I wait. This could be a while. I still hear him coughing. Hard. Few minutes later, his coughing subsides, and he’s back on the phone again.
“I’m sorry Christian. You have had quite a revelation today, and of all the years of therapy I’ve been providing you, I didn’t think I’d hear those words out of you. You, pursuing a virgin!”He had a hard time keeping the incredulity out of his voice. “You are very particular with the kind of partner you choose, and an inexperienced a non-submissive, a virgin at that wouldn’t fit the bill for you. I’m very interested in finding out what changed in your circumstance,” he says.
“We’ve rectified the situation. She’s no longer a virgin,” I say.
“I see,” he says thoughtful. “And what did she think of your hardcore sexual practice?”
“We just made love the first time. No toys...” I say but amend my choice, “well, if you don’t count my silver silk tie. But, it was my first vanilla,” I say calmly.
He starts choking again. When he stops with his blast of coughs, I say exasperated, “Do you think we can continue this conversation without you dying on me John?”
“Absolutely. It’s just that you’ve never revealed that you had any interest in vanilla, or making love. You have a set of rules you require all your partners to follow,” he says and I cut him off.
And that’s the thing! She doesn’t fit the bill in any way! Except maybe she’s a brunette. But other than that, even though I assumed she’d be inclined to be a submissive, because she was all‘yes sir,’, ‘no sir’ and still is very shy, I don’t think there’s a submissive bone in her body! And before you choke again,” I give him a forewarning, “I have other revelations.” I say.
“I’m listening,” he says holding his breath.
“She slept in my bed three times with me. You know... Sleep sleep. We also made love in my bed. I also think of her every minute of every day, and that’s pretty much the entire time when I’m awake. And at night, she’s in my dreams!”
Curious!” utters Dr. Flynn in his Londoner accent. “What sort of dreams have you been having?

“The night before last, I had my biggest and best wet dream. She was so fucking real! I didn’t even know, or think, or comprehend that it was a dream!” I say.
“Very interesting,” he observes and sounds like he’s taking his usual notes in his leather binder. “Go on,” he coaxes.
“Last night, was the worst night ever as far as the nightmares are concerned,” I say.
“Have you had a dream about the pimp?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, but I can’t help my breath hitching, “he caused Anastasia’s death in my dream, and I was devastated. It felt like no other loss I felt. No loss that can compare to it! I don’t think I’d feel this much pain and distraught had I lost someone else in my family,” I say feeling guilt, barely audible.
“You like her,” says John flatly.
That’s your professional opinion?”I say dryly mocking. “I figured as much.” But Dr. Flynn is unfazed.
“What do you think you feel for her Christian?” he asks.
“It’s not love!” I say fervently trying to make myself believe in it.
“It’s very interesting that you say that,” he says interested. “Why would you draw that conclusion?”
“I don’t do love John! I think it’s a mixture of like, reverence, awe, desire, lust, like...” I say drifting off.
“You said that,” he interjects.
Like...”he says, “you indicated that you liked her already twice,”he says. Where is he going with that?
“I do like her. A lot actually. In fact, I find myself thinking about her, dreaming about her, wanting, desiring her at a never-ending constant, no, at a rising rate! Despite the fact that she doesn’t have a single obedient, submissive bone in her body, as I’m finding out,” I say exasperated.
“And yet, you still desire to be with her... Curious!” says Dr. Flynn as if he is watching his favorite version of “Best of Freud.”
“Talk to me about your nightmare,”he says. I recount him details of my nightmare.
“Do you have fear of she will leave you?” he asks.
“I thought she was leaving me without giving me a say the night before last. She sent me an e-mail saying it was nice knowing me!” I say my voicing raising a notch.
“And how did that make you feel?”he asks, as I roll my eyes, like it’s the shrinks’ favorite catch phrase.
“Freaked out! At a loss... I have nothing to compare the feeling to. Never felt this way before!” I say with emotion.
“Surely, you’ve had other submissives with whom you weren’t compatible, or who wished more than you can offer, and you parted ways without any qualms or a second thought. Are you in love with this young woman?” he asks, his question totally taking me off guard.
I look at my phone incredulous, “No!” I say fervently. “I don’t do love! I can’t love. I’m bad for her but I can’t seem to get myself away from her! She’s the same around me! It’s like moth to flame.” I run my hand through my hair taking a deep breath.
“But yet, you say this isn’t love. Your fear of losing her is manifesting itself in your nightmares where generally your birth mother’s pimp plays a primary role. He’s the primary actor in most of your nightmares; a residual fear of your childhood if you will, and yet he managed to insert himself into your biggest fear: the loss of this young woman in the most profound way. This is your subconscious telling you that you will need to change your ways stemming from the damages you have endured in your earlier years should you want to continue establishing a relationship with her,” he says.
“You may be right. But I am not interested in any other kind of relationship, except for a Dominant and submissive,” I say fervently.
“Your words may indicate that, but you are ready to accommodate her needs in the relationship, like making love to her...” he says but I cut him quickly.
“That was just a means to an end. So we could move onto the next step of the introduction,” I say.
“How does she feel about that?”
“She’s negotiating her terms with me,” I say. Another choking sound.
“John, are you eating? You seem to be choking quite a lot.”
“Hypoglycemia. Small meals and often.” He says after a short while, clearing throat. “To be honest, you’ve managed to shock me often this morning Christian,” he admits humbly.
“It’s not me, it’s her! She even makes my security detail nervous, because I’m always on the edge not knowing how she’ll behave!” I say exasperated again.
“Let’s get to the core of the issue Christian. If this was any other submissive, any other woman, you wouldn’t have tolerated because, as you put it, you are set in your ways. But yet, you accommodate Anastasia’s wants, her needs, and you let her negotiate her terms with you,” he says.
“I haven’t named the feeling yet. She’s like sun, and I’m like a planet, unable to get out of her pull...” I say helplessly.
Yes, love does that to you. L'amour est comme un sablier, avec le cœur de remplissage, comme le cerveau vide,” he says to me.
“John,” I say dryly, “Love is like an hourglass, with the heart filling up, as the brain empties... (All about Us by T.a.t.u) What, you are a philosopher now? But I have a rebuttal: On n’aime que ce pu’on ne possède pas tout entire,” I reply.
“You say ‘we only love what we do not wholly possess.’ Do you wish to possess her?” he asks.
“In a way, yes. But I don’t know if she can be possessed. How can you contain a tornado?” I ask.
“Let’s assume that you managed to possess her, then what?” he asks.
“First I’d like to give her a good spanking for defying me at every corner!” I say exasperated.
“Interesting, but do you think she’s defying you, or expressing herself in her own terms?”
“It’s the same thing,” I say flatly.
“But you like her being who she is. Being expressive, smart mouth as you earlier put it. How would feel if that was all gone. You’d only have a mechanical, empty shell of a woman who once was Anastasia. Is that what you desire?” he asks making me gasp.
“No! I’m only trying to protect her! From herself! I do love her tenacity, and her smart mouth, and love her negotiating skills, but sometimes she can be reckless like she has no self-preservation skills! That’s what I’m trying to protect her from. Maybe that fear was manifesting itself in my dream,” I say as an epiphany dawns on me.
Or,” says Dr. Flynn in his rebuttal, “that your fear of something will happen to her is so great, making your overprotectiveness detrimental to her well-being, and it’s manifesting itself in your dream as a warning from your subconscious. Because you have a suspicion that it could make her run away, and she may get hurt as a result,” he says. I’m silent.
I hate your rebuttals!” I say finally feeling petulant. He laughs.
“But the question becomes, how will you react? How will you accommodate her personality?” he says.
“I like her personality. I don’t like defiance. You know I like control. I’m a fucked up sadist,” I say bitterly.
You and I disagree on that Christian. You are NOTa sadist. You are a young man who had to endure horrible things in the most formidable years of his life. But we can’t dwell on the past as we don’t have any control on what had happened; what’s past. We can only look forward, and create a place where you want to be: a goal, a personal ideal place and work towards achieving that ideal. The lifestyle you are in was introduced to you when you were so young, and you haven’t tried anything else, neither did you have desire to do so until you met this young woman.
But, in the last week you tried so many different things that are outside of your personal scope, outside of what you are used to, and found out you like it and with an innocent young woman at that. I think this young woman has provided you the therapy that I’ve been trying to administer you for the last two years! I’m in awe of her. I would really like to meet her! he says excitedly.
Great! I make a frowning face... Another admirer! Will she ever cease to amaze me, amaze others? (← All the Things She Said by T.a.t.u) She doesn’t even have to exert any effort to impress them at all. I feel this rising jealousy in me, though my subconscious knows that I have nothing to worry about Dr. John Flynn who is very happily married and in love with his wife.
“Shall we say we meet next week then?”
“Yes,” I say and hang up.
I spend rest of my tending business, and my work as my Blackberry never stops ringing; e-mails keep flowing from Ros and my assistant Andrea. My mind is always wondering what Anastasia doing. Worrying who she is talking to. Will she meet someone else today that he’ll sweep her off her feet with none of my fuckedupness? It makes my blood boil, and I pace around the suite.
“Sir, Claude Bastille is here,”says Taylor.
I look at him questioning. “You asked me to have him find time to see you this week, and I managed to get him today.” I stare at him. He knows I’ve been edgy and need a workout, and get this pent out energy that’s doing nothing but accumulating. I nod.
Claude Bastille walks in with his impeccable muscles and ready to work me out, kick my ass. He extends his hand,“Grey,” he says smiling.
“Bastille,” I say taking his hand.“I’ll meet you at the gym,” I say grinning. After last night’s horrors, today might be the day I kick his ass to the floor. Taylor understands me so well, sometimes I don’t have to say anything to him and he just knows what to do. He proves that he’s an invaluable employee at every turn. Next two hours, I work out very hard. Even though Bastille kicks my ass to the floor three times, I kick his ass twice giving me a great satisfaction. After my workout, I take a shower, order in dinner as I still have work to finish. I still haven’t received a response to my e-mail from last night. What could she be doing? Is she out with someone? The thought makes me jealous so much that I want to punch something and drive over to her apartment and claim her. But I control my impulses. She’s probably eating dinner. I don’t want her to write to me before she eats something, she eats so little already. I get back to my work again.

My e-mail dings! I scramble to open the e-mail program and to my disappointment it’s from Ros. God! I’m like a teenage boy who is waiting to receive a simple nod from the girl of his affections. As I’m reading Ros’ message about a shipyard we are thinking of purchasing, my e-mail dings again, and this time it’s Anastasia. I abandon the message I’m typing to Ros, and switch to Anastasia’s message.

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: My Issues? What about the Issues YOU Have?
Date: May 24 2011 18:30
To: Christian Grey

Dear Sir

Did it escape your impeccable attention that the date of origin of the definition you so kindly sent was 1580-90? May I respectfully remind you that we are in 2011? In the last 430 years, a lot has changed, and we’ve come a long way. In retrospect, I would like to offer you another definition which you ought to consider for our Wednesday meeting:

com·pro·mise [kom-pruh-mahyz] noun

1. a settlement of differences by mutual concessions; an agreement reached by adjustment of conflicting or opposing claims, principles, etc., by reciprocal modification of demands.

2. the result of such a settlement.

3. something intermediate between different things: The split-level is a compromise between a ranch house and a multistoried house.

4. an endangering, especially of reputation; exposure to danger, suspicion, etc.: a compromise of one's integrity.



God! How does she do that? I love that smart mouth of hers! I love that she’s interested and negotiating with me. No one has ever done that! Not that I would allow them to do it, or negotiate with me... It’s her! She’s doing this all to me? What is she doing to me? I type a response right away.


From: Christian Grey
Subject: What about my issues?
Date: May 24 2011 18:33
To: Anastasia Steele

Fair point well made as ever, Miss Steele. I will pick you up from your apartment at 7:00 p.m. tomorrow.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.


Her response dings into my e-mail box in a few minutes.


From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Year 2011 – Women can drive
Date: May 24 2011 18:41
To: Christian Grey

Dear Sir

I have a car and a driver’s license, making me legal to drive.
I’d rather prefer to meet you somewhere.
Where would you suggest I meet you?
At your hotel at 7:00?



What? Why? She’s planning an escape route. If I collect her, then, she’s dependent on me to take her back. Why is she trying to defy me again? My hand runs through my hair again exasperated. I type her a response.


From: Christian Grey
Subject: Stubborn exasperating young woman
Date: May 24 2011 18:44
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele
Would you please refer back to my e-mail dated May 24, 2011 sent at 4:58 please and read through the definition once again?
Do you ever think that you’ll be able to do what you’re told?

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.


She’s not a submissive at all, although she has the demeanor of one because of her shy nature. She’s confounding me, defying me at every turn, yet I can’t escape her pull. Why do you torture me so Anastasia? Why don’t you ever listen?

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Intractable men
Date: May 24 2011 18:50
To: Christian Grey
Dear Mr. Grey

I would really like to drive.



How exasperating can she be? She should really work for me. She’s a frigging tough negotiator! She makes me acquiesce, but not before making me mad. If she was mine, her delectable behind was red and sore till my hands got red and hurting!

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Not so Intractable Men
Date: May 24 2011 18:52
To: Anastasia Steele
My hotel @ 7:00.

I’ll meet you in the Marble Bar.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.


Even my typed words reflect my angry mood. She drives me insane! She never listens. Never does what she’s told! And if she was any other woman, any sub I’ve had, I’d leave her. But, even the thought of leaving her, or yet her leaving me rips my blackened heart. A response dings back from her momentarily.

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Intractable men
Date: May 24 2011 18:55
To: Christian Grey
Thank you.

Ana x

My fucking heart melts with her response. With one simple ‘Thank you’ and one frigging “X” indicating her hug. What is this I’m feeling for her? Agh!


From: Christian Grey
Subject: Exasperating Women
Date: May 24 2011 19:00
To: Anastasia Steele

You are welcome.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.


I can’t wait till I see her... tomorrow.
(Bookmark is used with the courtesy of

(Bookmark is used with the courtesy of
The next day my heart is at my throat the entire day. I’m edgy, excited, nervous, happy, did I mention nervous? I can see that I’m making Taylor very nervous. I’m brusque and short. I have to find a diversion to get through this day. I want to keep her tonight. I want to make love to her. Fuck her. Kiss her. Hold her. Seeing as I have no other bed, and I’m not at Escala, she may have to sleep in my bed. Yet another break of my rules! She’s the chink in my armor! But there is no other bed, and I’m not sleeping on the sofa when she’s in this proximity. My subconscious say,“keep lying to yourself, maybe you’ll believe it!” I shut him up. Maybe we won’t be doing any sleeping, what say you to that?
God! It’s been three days since I’ve had her, and its killing me... being only six miles away from her, and not tasting her, not loving her, not fucking her!
Exasperated, I yell “Taylor!
“Yes, sir,” he appears in the living room area of my suite.
“I need a workout. Let’s go for a run.”
“Yes, sir!”
I can run to her place from here, and I won’t be tired when I get there, and this pent up energy is driving me insane; looking for a way to get out! But of course I won't because I exercise control, and I have to be shooting on all my pistons when she gets here. So, we only run, and we run hard for several miles! When we get back, I take a shower. My pentup energy has not subsided. I might have to save that for tonight. I put on my customary white linen shirt and black jeans, black tie and black jacket. I want to look impeccable so she won’t be able to leave. I run my fingers through my hair, leaving it tousled giving it a just fucked air. Put that in your pipe and smoke it Miss Steele! I make my way to downstairs to the hotel’s bar.

I order myself a glass of white wine. I’m nervous as ever, and I don’t do nervous. I don’t do many emotions. I’m always controlled, and control gives me serenity, and Anastasia is creating chaos in my already tormented soul! I check my watch: 6:56 p.m. Will she come? My foot starts tapping in a nervous gesture on the floor. I stop it. I lean over to the bar, and take another sip of my wine. She’s here! I feel her gaze on my back! I don’t know how! But when she’s in the vicinity, I feel her as if we’re connected! I glance around still nervous, and see her standing at the entrance of the bar. She’s admiring me! My heart melts, and I still when I see her looking like that. She looks amazing in a purple dress! I have to blink a few times to make sure it really is her here! She’s stunning! I give her my smile only reserved for her, that salacious grin to show my desire, my affection, my wantonness for her.
She’s in a beautiful dress and she's wearing stilettos, and damn! I have something for high heels that makes me want to take her right here! Maybe I still can. I have a private dining room reserved. She walks towards me, and I automatically get up and walk towards her. ( Can't Take my Eyes off of You by Frank Sinatra)
All I can murmur to her is“Anastasia, you look stunning!” and give her a chaste kiss on her cheek. “You are wearing a dress. I approve Miss Steele.” I offer my arm and she takes it, and I lead her to a private booth area. I motion for the waiter, and ask her what she wants to drink. She gives me a sly smile, and says “I’ll have what you are having please.” I order her a Sancerre, and slide in opposite to her. The thought of her being agreeable makes me giddy. I can’t help but say “They have an excellent wine cellar here,” cocking my head to one side.
I close my eyes for a second to see if I can escape her pull, but no, I’m unable. I find myself steepling my hands and lean towards her. My eyes, my heart is full of some emotion that is ready to bust out of me, pour forth for her. She shifts nervously under my gaze. She feels the charge between us too.
“Are you nervous?” I ask her softly.
“Yes,” she whispers.
I lean forward even further.
“I’ll give you a secret,” I find myself saying conspiratorially, “I’m nervous too.” She blinks at me surprised. I’ve mastered the control element for a long time, but nervousness is a given feeling in her presence. I give her smile. The waiter arrives with her wine, olives, and some mixed nuts.
She gets right to the point.
“So, Christian, how are we going to do this? Do you want to run through my points one by one?” Impatient and getting down to business immediately...
“Impatient as ever, Miss Steele,” I say.
Then she says the simplest but most shocking thing because I think she’s mocking me. And it’s the hottest thing ever!
“Well Mr. Grey, in that case, I shall ask you what you thought of the weather today,” looks at me with her big blue eyes intently making me smile. Two can play at that game Miss Steele. I make a show of extending my hand to grab an olive and pop it into my mouth leisurely. She’s watching my mouth, and I know exactly what she’s thinking. She’s squirming in her seat, and nervous. When she gets desirous of me she flushes red and looks at her hands. She must be really hot, because she's fixed on my lips and mouth, her gaze is unwavering, unable to stare away. Her chest rises up and down with desire, her breathing shallow but rapid. She’s squeezing her legs together now, because she accidentally tugs on the table cloth. She wants me, and that awakens desires I didn’t know existed in me! I want to draw that out.
“I thought,” I say softly, “that the weather was particularly unexceptional today Miss Steele,” smirking at her. ( Blue Skies by Ella Fitzgerald)
“Are you smirking at me Mr. Grey?”she asks incredulous.
“I sure am Miss Steele,” I smile.Take that Anastastia! She leans forward and whispers fervently:
“You know the contract is legally unenforceable Mr. Grey,” she says changing my mood.
“I am fully aware of that fact Miss Steele,” I rebuttal. She leans back and crosses her arms, closing up.
“Were you ever going to tell me that fact at some point?” Does she not trust me? Does she think I’d take advantage of her? I frown. Does she think so little of me?
“Anastasia, do you think that I’d coerce you into something you wouldn’t want to do, and then pretend to have a legal hold over you?” I ask with fervor in my voice.
“Well... yes.” She answers, and oddly her answer is hurtful. I don’t get hurt! Where is that feeling coming from? Two simple words, yet, they stick like a knife to my dark soul.
“You don’t think very highly of me Anastasia,” I say trying to hide the hurt from my voice, “why?”
“Mr. Grey, you haven’t answered my question. You don’t answer a question with another question.”
I sigh. She deserves an answer.
“Anastasia, the purpose of the contract is not whether it’s legally enforceable or not. It represents an arrangement I’d like to make with you. It states what I expect from you and what you can expect from me in clear terms. If you don’t like what you see, don’t sign. But if you do sign, and later on decide that you don’t like it, or that it’s not for you, you can simply walk away because I have number of get out clauses in place. And if there was even a chance that it was remotely possible to legally enforce it, do you think I’d drag you through the courts should you decide to run?”
She gazes at me for a moment digesting what I had just said to her, and without taking her gaze from me she takes a long draft from her wine. I want her trust me. Always! I would never take advantage of her. If anything I have this strange desire to take care of her. We have to trust each other if we have a prayer for this arrangement to work. ( A matter of Trust by Billy Joel)
“These types of relationships, in fact, relationships in general are built on honesty and trust. If you don’t trust me, trust me to know how I’m affecting you, how far I can go with you, how far I can take you...” I say. I lean further in, and gaze into her eyes and say, “if you can’t be honest with me, then we really can’t do this,” with fervor in my voice.
“So, it boils down to this Anastasia: Do you trust me or not?” My eyes are burning into hers willing her to be honest with me.
She cocks her head at me and totally disarms me with her question:
“Did you have this discussion with, uhm... the fifteen?”
“No,” I say.
“Why ever not?” she asks.
“Because they were all established submissives, and understood what I expected and wanted out of a relationship. So, it was a matter of fine tuning the soft limits, and such details.”
She shakes her head.
“Is there a store you go to get one of these girls? Like Submissives R Us or Target Submissive Special?”
I laugh, “no, not exactly,” I answer disarmed again.
“Then how?”
“Anastasia, is this what you want to discuss or get down to nitty-gritty of your issues?” She swallows. A lot of emotions cross through her face. She looks down at her hands. I need to distract her from overthinking. She’s always overthinking.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. She looks up. “No,” she answers meekly.
I bet she hasn’t eaten. She hardly eats anything. “Have you eaten today?” I ask her.
“No,” she says in a barely audible voice. My eyes narrow. Why is she always avoiding food?
“You must eat Anastasia. We can eat in my suite or here. Where would you prefer?” I ask.
“I think we should just stay in public areas, to be more neutral.” I give her a cynical smile leaning into her.“Anastasia do you think being in a public venue would stop me?” I say sensually, softly, gazing into her; my eyes are burning ember with desire for her. Not in a million years. I’ve been dying for her in the last three days! Her eyes widen and she swallows.
“I hope so,” she whispers.
“Come,” I say, “I have a private dining room booked. No public.” I get out of the private booth, and take her hand asking her to bring her wine. A hotel waiter takes us to the private, intimate dining room. It’s a small luxurious room with old world sophistication and charm. The waiter pulls her seat for her, and places the napkin on her lap. I sit opposite to Anastasia. She finally peaks up at me from under her long lashes. I close my eyes for a brief minute and whisper, “Don’t bite your lip.” She looks up surprised.
“I’ve ordered our meal. I hope you don’t mind,” I say.
“That’s fine,” she acquiesces. Her acceptance finally gives me a well-deserved sigh of relief. She can be amenable, and I tell her that. “Now, where were we?”
“The nitty-gritty,” she responds automatically taking a sip from her wine.
“Yes, you have issues,” I say taking a copy of her e-mail out of my pocket.
“Clause 2. I agree. It’s for both of our benefit. So, I shall redraft this.” She looks at me blinking. Opts to take a sip of her wine again as if her glass of wine is going to provide the courage she lost outside of the hotel building.
“As for my sexual health; all my previous partners have had blood tests, and I have regular tests every six months for all the health risks in the contract. All my tests are clear. I’ve never taken drugs, and I’m vehemently anti-drug. In fact I have a no-tolerance policy in my company, and insist on random drug testing.” Her mouth opens with a shocked face as if to tell me “what a control freak you are!
I continue, “I never had any blood transfusions. So, are we clear on this clause?”
She nods impassively.
“The next clause is what I had told you earlier. Yes, you can walk away any time Ana. I won’t stop you,” I say even though my heart twists inside when I say that. “If however, you decide to go – that’s it. Just want to make this point clear,” I say looking into her eyes willing her to understand me.
“Okay,” she answers. A bed of oysters arrive.
“I hope you like oysters,” I say softly. She indicates that she’s never had one.
“Really?” I ask salaciously. “Well, all you do is, tip and swallow. I think you can manage that very well,” I say remembering her oral skills. She turns crimson. I grin at her response while squirting some lemon juice onto my oyster tipping it into my mouth. Then I encourage her to do the same.
“So, I don’t chew it?” she asks so innocently. I love that about her! When she’s like that, everything disappears, every crap, every worry, just Anastasia and me. “No, you don’t Anastasia,” I answer her with a gleam in my eyes. She bites her lip again! Damn woman! Are you trying to combust me here? I give her a warning look. She copies me by squirting lemon juice on her oyster, tips the shell and down goes her oyster. She licks her beautiful lips making me desirous and wanton, my eyes dark.
“Well?” I ask for her opinion.
“I’ll have another one,” she responds dryly.
I’m so proud of her. She’s so open to try new things, and willing to learn to enjoy them. It makes me hopeful about us, “Good girl,” I find myself responding proudly.
“Did you choose oysters on purpose? They’re after all known for their aphrodisiac qualities,” she says.
“No,” I respond honestly. Like I would need any sort of aphrodisiac in her vicinity? “They were the first on the menu, and I know that you know I need no aphrodisiac near you. And I also know that you also react the same way near me,” I say, and move one, “so where were we?
“Oh yes, Obey me in all things. Yes, I want you to do that. I need you to do that. Think of it as a role-play Anastasia,” I say. I have to have control. She’s too defiant, and this is the only way I know how.
“Christian...” she looks at me with fear, “I’m worried that you’ll hurt me.”
I’m surprised at her worry. “Hurt you how?”
“Physically,” she says, but her looks say more.
“Ana!” I chide her, “Do you really think that I would do that? Would I go beyond any limit you can take?”
“But you’ve said you hurt someone before.”
“I have, but that was a very long time ago."
“How then did you hurt them?”
“I suspended them from my playroom ceiling. In fact that was a question of yours. That’s what the karabiners are for. Rope play, you know. One of the ropes was tied too tightly.”
She holds her hand up not wanting to hear anymore. “I don’t want to know. I don’t think I want to be suspended. You won’t suspend me, will you?”
“Not if you don’t want to. This can be a hard limit.”
“Okay,” she gives a sigh of relief. She was clearly terrified.
“But can you manage the obeying rule?”Please, I beg inside. I need this. I have to have control.
She looks at me, trying to decipher my expression. “I will give it a try,” she whispers.
“Good,” I smile giving an inward sigh of relief. “One month of term instead of three is no term at all Anastasia. If you don’t want one of the weekends, can we agree to meet during the week? I don’t think I can stay away from you for that long, and as it is, I’m barely managing now, please?” I look at her.
Her expression changes to one of awe.“What do you say, I’ll give you a weekend day but in return I’ll get a weekday? Would that be workable?”
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Also, can we please try for three months Anastasia? If you don’t think it’s for you, you can then walk away anytime. Please?” I ask.
“Three months?” she says as if the words are leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She looks upset. She takes another sip of her wine as a nervous gesture. Takes another oyster to perhaps fill the silent pause she would have been having.
I continue, “The ownership thing; the terminology belongs to the principle of obeying. So you can get in the right frame of mind to understand where I’m coming from. I want you to understand one thing: As soon as you cross my threshold as my submissive, I will do what I like to you. You have to accept it and do it willingly. That’s why I need you to trust me. I will fuck you anytime, anywhere, any way I want. If you screw up, I will discipline you. I’m going to train you to please me. Since I know that you haven’t done this before, I’ll take it slow and we’ll build up certain scenarios. You need to trust me, and I do know that I need to earn your trust. And believe me I will. The ‘or otherwise’ thing is to get you into the right mindset; meaning anything goes,” I say passionately. She just keeps staring at me wordlessly.
“Ana, are you still with me?” I whisper warm and seductive.
When the waiter comes back in, I ask her if she wants more wine, but she opts for sparkling water since she will be driving.
“You’re very quiet Anastasia,” I whisper.
“And you are very loquacious Christian,” she whispers back. I smile.
“Discipline clause. Anastasia, you need to understand that there is a very fine line between pain and pleasure; like the two sides of the same coin, one doesn’t exist without the other. I want to show you how pleasurable pain can be. Maybe you don’t believe me now, but this is why I need your trust. There will be pain, but nothing you can’t handle. Do you trust me Ana?” I ask her with intensity.
She looks up at me when I call her name, and says, “Yes, I do,” spontaneously. She trusts me! I’m relieved beyond belief. “Okay, the rest are just details then.”
“Yes, but they’re important details.”
The waiter re-emerges with the food: black cod, asparagus, mashed potatoes with hollandaise sauce. I hope she likes the food.
“Speaking of food, you say that food is a deal breaker.”
“Yes,” she responds.
“Can I change it to say you will eat three meals a day.”
“NO,” she says vehemently and firmly.
“I need to know you’re not hungry Anastasia,” I say with concern.
“Guess, you’ll have to trust me,” she responds completely disarming me. I gaze at her, and I do trust her. The thought of it relaxes me. “I concede with food and sleep then,” I respond.
“I want to know why I can’t look at you,” she says.
“It’s a Dom/Sub thing. You’ll get used to it.” She looks at me disbelieving.
She gazes at me as if to defy me in this and asks, “Why can’t I touch you?”
How can I explain her that I’m fucked up? “Because you can’t,” I say firmly.
“Is it because Mrs. Robinson?” she asks surprising me.
Of course not! “Why would you think that?” I question her. “Do you think she traumatized me?” She nods!
“No Anastasia, she isn’t the reason. Besides, she wouldn’t take any of that shit from me.” She pouts.
“So, this has nothing to do with her then...” she says with a tone of question.
“No. Also, I don’t want you to touch yourself either.”
“Just curious but, why?” she asks.
“Because Anastasia,” I lean in with passion, “I want all your pleasure,” in a husky and determined voice.
“You have a lot to think about,” I say.
“Yes, you gave me a lot to consider,”she agrees.
“Would you like to go over the soft limits?” I ask. She looks sick.
“Not over dinner,” she says making me smile.
“Are you squeamish Miss Steele?” I whisper.
“You can say that,” she whispers back.
“You haven’t eaten enough.”
“Actually, I have had enough,” she says with meaning. But I know how much she ate. I have a mental inventory of it. Three oysters, four bites of cod, one stalk of asparagus, and nothing else. When I relay that to her, she looks shocked that I can recall all she has eaten.
“You said I could trust you,” I look into her eyes questioning.
“Christian, it isn’t every day I have a conversation such as the one we’ve had. So, I would appreciate it if you give me a break, please,” she says fervently. Not enough reason. She needs to remain healthy.
“I want you to be fit and healthy Anastasia,” I say.
“I know,” she murmurs, in goes that lip again absently. I close my eyes, and take a deep breath, and when I open them, my eyes are full of desire, and want.
“Right now Anastasia, all I want to do is to peel that dress off of you,” I say huskily. She swallows. Her body shifts. I can see the desire in her as well. But she says, “That wouldn’t be a very good idea,” she murmurs too quietly. “We haven’t had desert yet,” she says.
“You want desert?” I say incredulous.
“Yes,” she whispers. I give her a salacious smile again.
“You could be desert,” I say suggestively. God! I want her so badly tonight. When she’s sitting before me in that purple dress, with that hair, those legs, and those lips, squirming, reminding me how she squirmed with my touch, and how responsive she was. How I am near her! It’s driving me insane! I'm going out of my mine... She's so close yet so far away! I want her, need her; right here, right now!
“I’m not sure I’m sweet enough Christian,” she whispers. Oh, I disagree Miss Steele! I’ve tasted you, and you are the sweetest thing I’ve ever had!
“Anastasia,” I say, “you are the most delicious thing I’ve tasted.”
“But Christian,” she says shyly, “You use sex as a weapon. It isn’t really fair,” she whispers staring down at her small hands. Then she raises up her beautiful blue eyes, and looks into mine, through them. Her gaze surprises me. She can see through all the crap that surrounds me. She can see the real me. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. I take a thoughtful demeanor. She’s right of course.
“You’re right Ana,” I say looking at her. “One uses whatever tool that is available at his disposal. That’s the one I know. It’s my tool, my weapon, my treasure trove, my arsenal. But doesn’t change the fact how much I desire and want you! Right here! Right now!” I say with all my passion. My gaze never leaving her, I see that desire in her rises. It gives me an idea.
“I want to try something,” I say softly. She frowns, defensive, questioning. I slowly lean in, and softly and seductively say, “if you were my sub, you wouldn’t have to think about that. It would be very easy. You wouldn’t have to think if you were making the right decision, or if someplace was the right place. All those decisions would be made for you. I, as your Dom, would make those decision for you. You see Anastasia, I know for a fact that you want, and desire me, right this moment.”
A surprised look crosses her face. She wants to know how I could tell.
“Baby, I can tell, because, it’s all in your body language. You’re flushed with desire, because that occurs as a precursor to sex. Your breathing changes to accommodate all that blood rushing to the surface. And right now, you’re pressing your thighs together, because you’re trying to suppress your urge for me.”
She gives me a WTF look. “How do you know about my thighs?” she says disbelieving.
“One pays attention. The tablecloth moved with the movement of your legs, and I’ve learned to read a body well over the years. Experience. But I’m correct in my conclusion, aren’t I?” I say, and she flushes even more staring down to her hands.
“I haven’t finished my fish,” she says shyly.
“You would prefer the cold fish to me?” I say incredulous making her head jerk up. She glares at me and I glare back at her with desire, and want, and fire and wantonness.
“But you kept telling me you want me to eat everything on my plate,” she says. Do I look like I care about how much food she eats right now? I’m combusting before her! She’s torturing me! Denying me! Refusing me! It’s both extremely hot, and extremely frustrating! She’s my poison and my antidote! I have to have her. I know she wants me... Why is she denying me?
“You don’t fight fair Christian,” she whispers. Baby, I know! This is all I know. I have to win. It’s in my nature.
“I never have,” I simply state. I am the master of my game. I know how it’s played, and I’ve learned it very well indeed. And she is so innocent, and so inexperienced; she won’t be able to resist what I have to offer. Right now, I fucking want her! I’d take her over the table if she conceded. She frowns at me, and her eyelids slightly hood her eyes. She’s going to counter offensive! She picks up an asparagus. Then slowly, and deliberately bites her lip looking at me! Then taking the asparagus in her hand, sucks it in her mouth! She’s trying to get me riled up! Trying to beat me in my own game. My eyes widen.
“What are you doing Anastasia?” I say through gritted teeth. She smiles sweetly, and bites off the tip saying, “I’m eating my asparagus.” My erection just shot up, and I swallow. She’s going to make me convulse without even touching. I shift in my seat to give more room to my ever growing erection.
“I think,” I whisper leaning forward,“you’re toying with me,” I say. As she always does. She bats her eyelashes, and looks innocently, like a good southern girl, she says politely, “I’m just finishing my meal, Mr. Grey.”
The damn waiter enters right at that moment, glancing at me. I’m angry with the intrusion, and he knows it. But I nod at him so he can clear the plates. I crave for her. I’m dying with desire, and I’m about to combust. I need to either have her here, or take her to my suite. I don’t think I can make it to my suite. I might claim her in the elevator! When the waiter is still there, I might as well order her desert. I ask her if she would like any desert.
“No, thank you Christian,” she says politely adding, and completely breaking my heart, “I think I should get going.” No, no! This is a scene from my dream!
“Go? Why?” I’m unable to hide my shock and surprise. The waiter scuttles out of the room hastily scared of my reaction.
“Yes, I just need to go.” My desire for her is coming out of my pores, I’m that desperate for her! “We both have the graduation ceremony tomorrow,” she says shyly. I stand up and say leaning in, “I don’t want you to go!”
“Please Christian, I have to,” she responds.
“Why?” Why is she leaving me? I’m scared. I remember this scene, from the most horrible nightmare I ever had!
“I have a lot to consider, you’ve put a lot on my mental plate. I think I need some distance to think clearly,” she states looking at her hands.
“I can make you stay,” I threaten as I did in my dream. Is this too a dream?
“I know you could... Very easily in fact...” she looks at me pleading. She too, desires me, but why go baby? Why deny me? “But, I don’t want you to stop me.”
I’m exasperated. I run my hand through my hair. Then look at her. With the intensity of the last two days I’ve had without her, and that session I had with John this morning, I say, “Anastasia, when you sprawled through my office doors, and were all shy, and ‘yes sir’, ‘no sir’, I thought you could be a submissive. But I now doubt that, and am discovering that you just might not have a single submissive bone in your delicious body.” I’m tense. I don’t know how she will take my honesty. Do I want to continue pursuing her? She looks down, and back up at me again.
You may be right Christian,” she says. At that moment I make my decision. I want her. BADLY! I want to have a chance with her! Why is everything against me in this? Can’t she see how much I desire her?
“Anastasia, I want to have the chance to explore that possibility, that you do have that tendency. You could have that,” I murmur. A lot of emotions cross through her face. I know she wants me! I know she desires me. I know that she can’t stand before me, with me, because she knows our attraction is inevitable, inescapable, that we won’t be able to keep our hands off of each other. But yet, she’s opting to go. She wants ‘more’ like she did in my dream. I can read that in her demeanor. I look down at her, caressing her chin and her lower lip I love so much. “I don’t know any other way Ana. This is me. This is who I am.” I whisper fervently.
I know,” she says sadly, forlorn look in her face. Another moment from my dream.
I lean down to kiss her. I want her so much, I’m burning inside. I’m a man on fire! I gaze at her, seeking her approval, her permission. She reaches up the remainder of our distance meeting my lips. I start kissing her. Her hands travel into my hair twisting, puling, and trying to merge herself into me. My hand travels to the nape of her back, my other hands slides down on her back, and we’re flat against each other. Our mouths and lips exploring each other, opening, gasping, tongues twisting, and stroking. We become one with the kiss, passion rises. I want her! I need her. I have to have her. She just can’t leave.
“No.” she says firmly.
“Please stay. Spend the night with me Ana.” I say.
“And not be able to touch you? I can’t.” I give out a big groan.
“Baby, you’re impossible,” I say pulling back, and I see a different expression on her. She’s running! She’s leaving me.
“Anastasia? Why does this sound like a goodbye?” I say. I’ve been here. I’ve had this moment before! Last night! And she died on me! My anxiety level rises.

“That’s because I’m leaving now,” she says not convincing me.

I lean down and say through the gritted teeth, “that’s not what I mean, and you know it!”
She closes her eyes, breathes deep. Oh God! Last night! I’ve had this moment last night!
Christian, I need to think. I don’t know I can do this. I don’t know if this can work, or whether this is the kind of relationship I want,” she says. I close my eyes. I don’t want to revisit last night. I will not chase her. I want her alive. Living, breathing, happy. I press my forehead against hers, and we both calm down. I kiss her on the forehead, deeply inhale her scent smelling her hair, trying to memorize her, remember her. I finally release her and take a step back.
“As you wish, Miss Steele,” I say.“I’ll escort you to the lobby.” She spoke her terms, and I spoke mine. I don’t do love, I don’t do “more.” She may be right. This may not be for me, or for her. I proffer my hand out to her. I ask her if she has her valet ticket. She fishes it out of her purse and hands it out to me.
“Thank you for a lovely dinner Christian,” she murmurs.
“Always a pleasure Anastasia,” I say, but my mind is shooting on all pistons. Do I want her to go? Only tonight? What do I do? Who the fuck am I kidding? I WANT her and that’s the bottom line. When did I, Christian Grey, back away from a challenge because it was difficult? It’s not in my nature! I will see through this. I won’t let her slip through my fingers. Boundaries can always be renegotiated.
She looks up to me, as if she’s looking at me the last time, as if she’s never going to see me again. She wants me too! She desires me! We have to work this out! It has to work! My heart is breaking into million pieces! I’m dying a new death every second with the thought that she may be gone out of my life. Even the thought of it, thought of not having her, seeing her, smelling or hearing her is a new stab in my dark heart! My gaze meets hers, intense, blazing.
“You said you’re moving this weekend to Seattle. If you make the right decision, can I see you on Sunday?” I say hesitantly. This is the first time I have a slip in my control.
“We’ll see. Perhaps,” she breathes. I feel relief for a second, with the realization that she’ll have open mind. But she’s shivering in her dress.
“Anastasia, it’s chilly now, don’t you have a jacket?” I ask.
“No,” she says. I shrug mine off, and put it on her.
“I don’t want you getting sick.” I see her momentarily close her eyes, and inhale my scent off my jacket. My heart skips a beat. She wants me too!
Then I get the shock of my life when the valet drives her car up. It’s the crappy VW from my dream! My mouth drops open with shock and surprise.
“Is this your car?” I ask appalled, with still shock lacing my face I tip the valet. I can’t help but say “Is this roadworthy?” as I did in my dream.
“Yes,” she says. Oh good! Something is different, and the ominous feeling hasn’t yet left me.
“But will it make it to Seattle safely?”
“Of course,” she says exasperated. Oh no! Here it comes! “I know she’s old, but she’s mine, and my stepdad bought it for me, and yes she’s roadworthy!”
I can rectify this situation so easily. She needn’t be in this junk, a death trap! I would worry about her even if she wasn’t with me! “Oh, Anastasia, we can do better than this.”
“What are you trying to say?” she says as realization dawns on her. “You can’t, you aren’t going to buy me a car!” she says. I glare at her. How little you know me baby! You don’t want to challenge me in this. I’m a man who always gets his way.
“We’ll see about that,” I say tightly. I open the driver’s door for her. She has to take her shoes off because there’s barely any floor space. Ok, I’m getting you a car! This piece of shit is not roadworthy! My eyes are dark with concern. Had she signed her document, she wouldn’t be driving away in that piece of mobile death box! As it is, she’s tied my hands up, leaving me helpless!
“Drive safely,” I say quietly.
Goodbye, Christian,” she says hoarsely, forlorn. “No, no! This isn’t the nightmare. She’ll be okay,” I keep telling myself. She looked hurt, and broken. She’s deep under my skin! Made a home for herself at a level so deep, I can’t pull her off! She’s mind fucking me! I can’t do a frigging thing about it! Both my hands run through my hair in double exasperation as I watch her clunker of a car drive away.
I turn around, and have the urge to run to my suite, but I fix my impassive face on, and slowly walk back to the elevators. Press the call button. And her memory is still fresh here in this elevator once again. She’s defying me, she’s playing me in my own game, and I fucking like her immensely! I want her more than I ever wanted anything else in my life! What is that?
I find myself entering my suite, and my feet make their way to my laptop. I type her a message. I want to know why she left, why she didn’t want me even though I could read the desire, the want, the yearning in her!
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Tonight
Date: May 25 2011 22:02
To: Anastasia Steele
Why did you run tonight Anastasia? I don’t understand. I fervently hope that I managed to answer all your questions to your complete satisfaction. I know it’s a lot to digest, and you have a lot to think about, but I sincerely hope that you give my proposal a serious consideration. I want to make this work badly. We’ll take it slow.
Please trust me.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I have to find a way to convince her. When did I ever run away from a challenge? I just want her! This fact will not change. The question then becomes how much I want her. Do I want her so badly that I would go to lengths I had not gone before in pursuit of a woman? One answer to that. A definite “Yes!” I wanted nothing more before!
I know she has fears. But it’s only because she doesn’t know the heights of pleasure she can climb. How can I convince her? My nightmare nearly came true, because she’s afraid of what I’m asking, and she wants more. Dr. Flynn’s question is resounding in my mind now:“Do you wish to possess her?” She’s hard to possess, nearly impossible. But I want to possess her. Claim her body and soul as she claimed me. But, how much am I willing to compromise?
There is that word again: “compromise.”
Can I shift the boundaries of my rules to accommodate a compromise for her? Maybe I can try. For her! What is she doing to me? I’m breaking all my rules for a young innocent woman! The thought of her being gone, being in someone else’s possession, guardianship, love, sex is killing me!
I pace back and forth in my suite. Exasperated, sexually frustrated, denied, defied, negotiated into breaking down, into near concession, although I’m still in negotiating mode: All by one young woman whose first sexual experience is yours truly! She’s had no real boyfriends, or even many kisses I suspect; yet she has this innate ability to confound me. Me!Christian Grey who denies others, whom others submit to. Then tomorrow’s graduation is crucial. She will have to see me. I have to make that count.
I wait for Anastasia to write me back. I want to make sure she’s made it home safely in that death trap of hers. I text her:
*Are you home safe?*
10 minutes ticks by, no response. I text her again.
*Call me*
I wait, and wait. No answer. I call her. She doesn’t answer. I hang up. I dial again. And once again, she doesn’t answer. Did she get home safe in that death trap? I’m nervous. I shouldn’t have let her go. Or I should have followed her home to make sure she made it there safely. No! That brings back the nightmare. I decide to send her another e-mail message:
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Tonight
Date: May 25 2011 23:59
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia, I’m worried that you didn’t make it home in that car of yours.
Let me know if you’re okay.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I stay up a little longer to polish up the speech I’m supposed to give at tomorrow’s graduation. I wait for Anastasia to e-mail or text, but I get nothing. I call her one last time before I go to bed worried. She doesn’t answer. Is she okay? Did she make it home or is she simply ignoring me? As long as she makes it home, I can take being ignored. My desire builds up even further for her. The thoughts of her are ever present in wakefulness and sleep. How you confound me Ana!
I walk into the bedroom, change into only my boxers, and lay in bed gazing in the ceiling with the thoughts of Anastasia.
The photographer is wrapped around her waist like static fabric clinging to your body. Both irritating and unsightly! I narrow my eyes, questioning her.
“Why him Ana?” I ask her fervently.
“Because he’s willing to give me more. More than you are willing to provide.”
“She needs more than your money and your deviant sex you asshole!” says the photographer.
I ignore him. “What is it you want Anastasia? Tell me!” I plead with her.
“More than you’re willing to give me Christian. More than sex, more than pain and pleasure, more than a Dominant who desires to possess me! I want a boyfriend who loves me!”
“And do you think that little shit can love you like I do?” Her eyes widen as he glares at me with animosity, ready to kill. He turns his Latin eyes on me and practically growls:

Of course I love her, asshole! What do you have to offer her other than what you’ve given so far? Hmm, what would that be. Oh yes, a concentrated dose of misery?”I continue to ignore him.

I turn to Anastasia grasping her arm, willing her to come to me.

“You don’t love me Christian! You only want what my body can give. That’s not enough for me!”
“You want hearts and flowers?” I ask.
“Yes. And more. I want love,” she whispers. “Because I love you! But, you’re not willing to reciprocate,” her last declaration becomes my undoing. I’m like Heathcliff again finding myself declaring my love to her with his words.

If he loved you with all the power of his soul for a lifetime, he couldn’t love you as much as I do in a single day!” I say exasperated, and utter, “No one can love you like I can, least of all this piece of shit!
“Then why don’t you ever show it to me?” she says looking at me with her big blue eyes gaze fixed on mine.
I take her in my arms, and our kiss consumes us both. (Crazy Love by Michael Buble)


Morning finds me with more resoluteness: Anastasia Steele, you’re going to get my best fight today baby! If I want something, I don’t lose. And right now, there is nothing I desire more, no acquisition is as great, no company is as valuable, no woman is worth pursuing! I have eyes only for you! (←For Your Eyes Only by Sheena Easton) I’m not giving up on finally claiming you to be mine, especially now when I know you want me too. I can’t let the details dictate the relationship we can have. I’ll lay all my cards, and have a few tricks up on my sleeve.
I really don’t want to lose her; the thought of losing her, that she might slip through my fingers even for a minute scares the life out of me! Had she not requited my feelings, had she not desired me as strongly as I do her, had she not been my sun, had she not kiss me as passionately, make love as passionately, had she not have that look when she wants me in her eyes and that sadness when she is ready to give up despite everything she feels for me because of her own principles, I wouldn’t have pursued her this strongly no matter how much I liked and desired her! But she does, and I can’t escape her pull. I am to her, what she is to me! She’s not only beautiful and smart, but she is also principled. She knows what she wants, what she desires. She may be inexperienced, but when she feels something she feels strongly, she acts strongly even though she may be scared to death, and she’ll go for her principles even if it breaks her heart as well as mine into a million pieces. That is the sexiest thing I have seen! That's my pain and pleasure...
I like her, I want her, I desire her, I feel very strongly for her with emotions I am not familiar with of which I have no way of naming! I may not be a gentelman, I may be born of a crack whore, I may be a control freak, a slave driver, a megalomaniac; but I know and recognize honor! That’s something I work towards because it too needs a good deal of control to achieve, it's a principle I'm raised with and that’s something I see in her! She acts upon it, and I am completely and utterly enthralled! She’s a rare woman, and I’ve come to recognize that. Only someone worthy of her may claim her, and how lucky was I to have claimed her without completely understanding her worth, but she can’t be contained. I want to be worthy of her too! She makes me want to be a better man. She may be a tornado in my soul, but I love what it stirs in me; keeps me on my toes not knowing what she’ll say or do next. Although part of me would love to tame it within certain boundaries, heck, who am I kidding, I would just love to tame her, period, but ‘compromise’ would preserve her best qualities, while chiseling her rough edges. I’ll use all my negotiating skills to achieve that end today. Bring it on Miss Steele... Cause Ana, baby, I’m the man for you! (← I’m Your Man by Michael Buble)
I go and workout with Taylor early in the morning. Taylor holds the punching bag, and I punch and kick the crap out of it. His eyes widen at my eagerness, anger, and pent-up desire and he knows why.
“Will you be seeing Miss Steele today sir?” he asks tentatively.
“Yes,” I say flatly, then amend it, “not definite, but I’ll try,” I say.
Good luck sir!” he says as if I’m going to a rescue mission in the enemy territory! I pause for a second and try not to smile. I punch the bag one last time.
Thirty minutes later, I go to my suite, order breakfast, and take a shower. I put on my silver suit on and accessorize with my silver tie which became my favorite in the recent weeks. Taylor drives me to the university. As I make my way to the Chancellor’s office, Taylor whispers under his breath, but still a firm sound saying, “Go get her sir!” When I turn to look at him, he has his impassive face on; I nod as a reply. This waiting is getting on his nerves too!
Chancellor drawls on talking pleasantries, and introduce me to the other staff. I make my way around quickly and say, “Perphaps I should make my way to the stage. I want to look over my speech one more time,” though I needen’t look over anything. I have a very good memory, and I can recite it after the first read. He directs his assitant to show me the way, but I say, “I know that Miss Katherine Kavanagh is going to give the valedictorian speech. If she’s around she may be able to take me where I need to be." That surprises the chancellor. I say, “Miss Kavanagh is a family friend,” by the way of explaining. She comes from a rich stock which shouldn’t surprise the Chancellor that our families would be acquainted. He instead sends his assistant to locate Kate.
The assistant comes back in with her who gives me a sly smile. What has she got under her sleeve?
“Hello Christian,”she says politely and unwavering of me or the company around. Her unintimidated but polite, professional and friendly approach convinces the chancellor and raises Kate’s value a notch in his eyes.
“Hello Kate,” I say and she extends her right cheek for a friendly gesture and I plant a friendly, and social kiss on it.
The Chancellor, and his Vice Chancellors as well as the assistant are awed at this exchange and the Chancellor politely with a little reverence in his voice asks Kate, “Miss Kavanagh, would you be kind enough to escort Mr. Grey to his seat at the podium please? He would like to look over his speech.”
“Certainly Chancellor,” she says politely, and leads the way.
Once we are out of their earshot, I turn and ask her, “Did Anastasia make it home last night?”fervently and worried.
“Yes she did,”she says flatly.
“Are you sure?”I ask frowning.
“Of course, I saw her this morning. She listened to my speech rehearsal. Why do you ask?” she says.
“No reason,” I say. “I wanted to make sure she got home, but she didn’t call me,” I say.
She narrows her eyes with her shark reporter gaze on me, looking directly into my eyes, “Are you treating my best friend right?” she asks with an undercurrent of threat.
“Yes,” I say firmly.
“Why did she seem upset this morning then?” she asks.
“She was upset?”I say my voice raising half a notch.
“Yes she was. Though she used her patented distraction technique, but if you lived with someone for four years, you get to learn their quirk well enough. What did you do to her to make her upset?” she gets closer her gaze threatening.
I stare right back at her.
“What did she say?” I ask forcefully.
“Why would I tell you?” she points her finger right in my chest. I narrow my eyes to her.
“Because I was worried about her in that death trap of hers she calls her car, and I wanted to make sure she got home in one piece! If you were a good friend who is worried about her well-being, you would be on the same page as I am!” I said removing her finger politely.
“Oh Christian! I’m sorry! Of course I’m worried about her driving that car, but you have to understand. She doesn’t have limitless amounts of money, like some people,” she says giving me a pointed look. “You can’t criticize her like that and make her feel bad about herself!” she says. But I know my statement disarmed Kate for her to be loquacious like this about Anastasia, she otherwise wouldn’t be. “She must have been worried about something, but that’s Ana,” she says, “I thought it was just graduation jitters. She’s very closed when it comes to her feelings. Now come to think of it, she was diverting my attention, and since I was preoccupied with my speech, I didn’t pay as much attention as I should have.” I nod. We’re at the podium already. The auditorium is crowded, and we have to raise our voices to hear each other better. The students and their parents are trying to locate their seats in the chaos before the podium.
“Do me a favor after the commencement is completed,” I say firmly.
“Depends on what you ask of me,” she says without blinking.
Let me put it this way then: I want you to find Anastasia after the commencement, and send her to me,” I say my gaze piercing hers. To her credit, she doesn’t waver.
“Why should I do that for you?” she asks.
“You’re not doing this for me. You are doing this for your best friend who will get a lot more miserable if she doesn’t get to talk to me,” I say firmly, steadily, and pointedly.
“Why would she be miserable? Will you hurt her?” she asks threatening, almost daring me.
I’m taken aback.“Of course not!” I say. She’s in her mother hen mode again which I’ve witnessed before.
Because if you hurt her any way Grey, I will have your balls on a plate!” she says with a malicious threat unexpected of a girl who is pretty, small and unthreatening in appearance.
IF,” I say emphasizing, “you don’t get me talking to her after the commencement, she will get hurt, and not by me either! It will all be in your hands. I’m supposed to go back to Seattle. We might have something special going between us, but she may feel threatened of who I am, of my wealth. I want her to get pass through those. But if she doesn’t,”I say gambling, “I’ll move on. I’m a busy man Katherine, I don’t have time to waste,” I say not wanting to give her too much to run off with. She measures what I'm saying to her, and I can see that she's mulling it in her head.
Just get her to me after the commencement,” I say firmly.
Fine. I’ll get her to you. But my threat stands. If you hurt her, it’s your balls...” she says with a lot of implication. And the subject is closed.
“We have to wait till everyone else takes their seats,” she says changing topics. At exactly eleven o’clock the Chancellor and his Vice Chancellors come and take their seat. Professors, and others line up, and Katherine and I end up in the last row. We each take our seats, and our conversation ends.
The students have taken their seats before us in the auditorium as the parents and friends seat themselves in the bleachers. The voices are louder and after everyone has taken their seats, the students rise up and applaud the lined up protocol before them. Once the applauding subsides, we all get seated again.
As I sit down, I undo the button on my single-breasted gray suit jacket revealing my silver tie. Should Miss Steele’s eyes find and gleam at me, she’ll see my meaning.
The Chancellor gets up, approaches the podium, and starts the proceedings with his speech. My eyes are slowly, and discreetly searching for her in the sea of students who are wearing the same cap and robe. I search for her like a lost planet looking for its sun.
Not that one... No, not that brunette. Not her... I scan the faces one by one still managing to look uninterested and casual.
There she is! Our gazes lock. (←Send Me on My Way by Rusted Root) She was trying to hide in her seat! Why? I stare at her keeping the longing out of my gaze. Impassive, blank. But questioning. Even from this distance, I know I found my sun. I found my place. I located my soul. She’s here. It’s both relief, and exasperation. She’s well, but she hasn’t answered my e-mails, or my phone calls, neither did she return them. Why would she do that? Why is she trying to run away from me when I can see her squirming in her seat even when I’m this far away. I know she wants me. I have the same effect on her as she has on me! We’re both lost without each other! In each other we find ourselves.
Her gaze goes down to my tie, and it has the effect I expected it to make. This is only the Flush baby. I still have my backup plans of Full House, Four of a Kind, and Straight Flush. Yes, I intend to win today! A small smile creeps up on my lips as her squirming in her seat becomes a little more evident though she’s trying hard to conceal it. She’s remembering exactly what we did with the aid of this little tie which is now my favorite impromptu arsenal. But her squirming is doing its job on me, and I feel that I’m getting an erection. Damn! It has to be suppressed given the present company. I close my eyes briefly trying to escape her captivation. Because if I keep looking at her, I may as well be giving my speech with a tent poking out of my pants! When I open my eyes, my indifferent gaze is back firmly, and I stare at the Chancellor whose sight is sure to douse the fire. I switch my gaze to ordinary things, and finally find the non-dangerous inanimate object in the school logo hanging right above the entrance. It’d be impossible for me to look at her again without the obvious effects since I’ve had this pent up sexual energy for days, my overflowing desire, and given last night’s near miss, I can’t take the chance. Nothing short of having her, claiming her, making love to her – well maybe that can come later- the way I feel right now I have to fuck her every which way possible for an entire day and night just to barely dim this fucking fire that is consuming me! So I keep my gaze away from her.
I’m pulled away from my reveries after hearing Katherine Kavanagh’s name called for the Valedictorian Speech. She captivates the audience which doesn’t surprise me as she has mastered to work the crowd being her father’s daughter. Yet, I’m still impressed with her delivery of her lines. Once she’s done with her speech, the audience goes wild, and she receives a standing ovation; her peers cheering at her.
Then the Chancellor introduces me saying, “I now would like to introduce you to a young entrepreneur who has managed to find his place not only in the State of Washington, but in the entire U.S. as well as the international stage. He is also a major benefactor of Washington State University. Please welcome Christian Grey,”and with that introduction, it’s my turn to give my speech. Upon hearing my name, the audience present gives a polite but subdued applause. I take my place at the podium.
“I am utterly grateful, and very touched by the compliments accorded to me by the Chancellor on behalf of WSU. Thank you! This presents me with a rare opportunity to talk about the School of Environmental Science at WSU is doing which is quite impressive to say the least. We aim to develop viable and ecologically sustainable methods of farming for the third world countries, and ultimately help eradicate hunger and poverty around the world. ..“
I go on to talk about African, Sub-Saharan and South American countries where the ecological destruction is wreaking havoc, and causing hunger. I also talk about my own hunger before I was adopted. This piece is for Miss Steele’s benefit. I’m baring myself for all others to see but ultimately to tell her that I’m approachable, that there is more to me than what I get to do in my, as she put it, Red Room of Pain. That I was not always rich, that I’ve made my own way. What I have wasn’t something I inherited; but I worked exceptionally hard towards making happen. Because I don’t ever want to be poor or hungry again! Ever! I want her to understand this part of my control freakery as far as why I ask her to eat and finish what she has on her plate are concerned. This is part of my compromise to her. Although it is public record that I’ve been adopted, the details of my past are not public record; not that if you’re snoopy enough you won’t be able to find out; but it requires a lot of digging, and this part is my own to share. See Miss Steele, I can be open... I’m laying part of my dark past bare for you... This is me in all my fuckedup self! Take me as I am... (←Everything I Do by Bryan Adams) Ordinarily, I wouldn’t like to talk about what I do for others. Maybe I’m still trying to suppress the hunger of the little boy I once was, but my team tells me that it’s beneficial for the university for brining awareness from someone in my position; and it takes money to bring in money from other donors. As I close my speech, I say, “This is a very personal journey for me...”inconspicuously looking at her. I smile at the audience at the end of my speech, and even Miss Kavanagh the ball crasher is applauding me fervently.
Finally it’s time for handing out the diplomas. But, there are over four hundred students to give diplomas to and her last name starts with the letter ‘S’ for God's sake! Over an hour, many diplomas and countless handshakes later, I hear her name called, and my heart stutters for a second.
I’m relieved to have her in my clear eye sight. My gaze gets warm with one look at her, but I remain guarded. She walks up to me, her diploma is in my hand. I gaze down at her; and once our hands touch and get connected, the jolt of electricity start running between each other at a rising rate.
“Congratulations, Miss Steele,” I say as I shake her hand, squeezing it gently. Wishing I didn’t have to let it go. I lean a little bit more in and ask, “Is something the matter with your laptop?” and hand her diploma to her.
“No,” she says frowning and confused.
Then you are ignoring my messages?” I say hurt, though I push that emotion and hide it well.
“I only saw the mergers and acquisitions message,” she says confusing me. Oh, she’s talking about the e-mail I sent her last night. So, she didn’t see the other messages I’ve sent?
Seeing the line is backed-up, I say “Later,” and she moves along the line. Another hour and many more handshakes, and quite a few gawking male and female students later, the diplomas are all handed out. Once they’re all done, I make sure I don’t give any attention to Miss Steele. She’s going to be desirous, and I will have her beg me by the end of the night. The occupants of the podium, including myself and Miss Kavanagh vacate the stage without a backward glance at her.
Once we’re done with the ceremony, I shake the hand of the Chancellor, and excuse myself to speak to Miss Kavanagh.
Kate! I need you to go get Anastasia right now!” She glares at me, but nods and moves to get her. Once Kate leaves, I’m occupied by the Chancellor and couple of the teaching staff who are dying to acquaint themselves with me.
I feel her gaze on my back as she walks up with her roommate Kate. I turn my head and see her.
“Excuse me gentlemen,” I murmur to my company. I smile at Kate, and thank her. Without waiting for Kate’s reply I take Anastasia’s elbow as I have run out of all the patience I could muster, and walk her away from the crowd to find a private place which presents itself in the form of a men's locker room and I take her into it; I check to see if there are any occupants, and finding it empty, I lock the door.
Then I turn on her with all my frustration that had accumulated over the week and glare at her:
“Why haven’t you e-mailed me or texted me back?” (← Just Another Day Without You by John Secata) I ask fervently. She looks perplexed, and answers. “I haven’t had a chance to check my laptop or cell phone today. Just been busy getting ready.” Then she changes the topic,“But anyway, that was great speech Christian.”
“Thank you,” I find myself saying automatically as years of manners my parents have engrained in on us take over.
“I understand your food issues now.” Although I’m glad that my effort worked, with less than two inches between us, I could care less. I’m doubly exasperated running both my hands through my hair. Doesn’t she understand how worried I was about her in that death trap of a car? She didn't call or write, or text me back... It was irresponsible! I had no hold over her, so I had to find out from Katherine Kavanagh to learn that she was okay! She’s putting me through the ringer, and torturing me!
I pace couple of steps within the confined space, get my breathing down, and turn to her once I feel my control is slipping back in. “Anastasia, I don’t want to talk about my past right now.” I close my eyes with the pain of not having her, not having a say in keeping her safe, and her defying me and not being able to do a shit about is worrying me immensely! I look at her with all the intensity of my emotions without feeling the need to hide it: “I’ve been worried sick about you!” I whisper fervently.
“Why were you worried?” she says confused.
Did she not listen to me last night? She drove away in a mobile death box! “Only because you were driving a death trap! Do I need any more reason?” I utter.
“What?” she says petulantly. “Wanda,” she corrects herself, “my car, is not a deathtrap. Jose services my car regularly!” she utters. The would-be rapist is also her car mechanic? The fucker who plagued my nightmare last night? My eyes grow cold. I barely contain myself. I find my jealousy growing by the bounds in a second.
“You said Jose. Would that be the photographer? Your would-be rapist?” I say narrowing my gaze on her.
“Yes, that Jose. Only because he knows the car well, because it used to be his mother’s car,”she says rapidly to appease my rising anger.
“Of course it did!” I say, “It’s probably a family antique. It must have descended all the way from his great-great-great grandmother! That car is dangerous!” I find myself saying my voice hoarse with some unknown emotion.
“Christian, you’re overreacting; I’ve driven her for over three years. I’m actually very sorry I worried you. It wasn’t intentional. Why didn’t you call me?”
How could I sit here and explain that I called, texed, and e-mailed her numerous times without a response? I have to have an answer before I combust right here in front of her. I’m losing control. It’s slipping out of my hand, and with this proximity, I don’t know if I can handle it! I take two deep breaths to find my center closing my eyes. I seem to lose every last bit of control in her vicinity. But then again, her absence does the same and worse to me! What is she doing to me like this?
I open my eyes, and lower my gaze to her with all its intensity baring my soul, “I need an answer from you Anastasia! This waiting,” I close my eyes again to escape her pull,“this not knowing what you will say, or do is driving me insane! I’m going crazy.” I open my eyes, and look for a sign from her. (← I'm on Fire by Bruce Springsteen)
“Oh.. Christian, look, I’ve left my stepdad on his own and he is waiting for me. “
Ok. You have till tomorrow. I want...” I say, “no, I need your answer by tomorrow. “ I say fervently.
“Alright. I’ll have my answer tomorrow,” and she blinks up at me.
I want to make sure that she’s serious, and not toying with me. I take a step back and look at her. Her demeanor tells me that she’s being truthful, relieving me. I feel myself relaxing; I didn’t even know my whole body, from my toes to my shoulders were tense!
“Will you be staying for drinks?” I ask.
“Oh, I’m not sure what my stepdad Ray wants to do.” For the first time since I relaxed a little, I realize that her stepfather is here. I’d like to meet him, because that would give me another opportunity to get to know Anastasia better.
"Could you introduce me to your step-dad?" I ask.
Her look falls, disappointed. “Christian, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” she says. This hurts my feelings beyond belief, and I don’t even get a chance to hide my feelings. But I manage to suppress it to my hard lined lips.
Are you ashamed of me Ana?” I whisper.
“No!” she says fervently.
"What then?" I probe.
“Christian, how do I introduce you to him, as my what? ‘Hey dad, here’s the man who deflowered your daughter, and now he wants to start a BDSM relationship with her. Meet my prospective Dominant!’ You’re not wearing your running shoes!” she says. I like to be mad at her, but I find a smile creeping up on my lips which I unsuccessfully try to suppress it.
“Just so you know Anastasia,” I say smiling, “I can run quite fast. Why don’t you just introduce me as your friend?”
I unlock the door, and lead her out. We walk back to the crowd. I go to stay with the Chancellor, all three of the Vice Chancellors, four faculty members, and Katherine as Anastasia rushes to find her step dad like a bat out of hell surprising all of them who stare behind her. Not six minutes later I see her walking in the arm of her step dad. But out of nowhere this blonde good looking fucker who is full of self-confidence comes, and sweeps her off the floor twirling her around like a little girl! Katherine notices my glare out of the corner of my eye, but before she says anything I excuse myself from my company. Katherine scuttles behind me. My cold gaze locked on Anastasia as the blonde fucker’s arm wraps around her like a lover’s embrace. If looks could kill, that fucker would be dead as soon as he touched Anastasia!
Kate is walking beside me as we reach to the trio, my eyes glued on the hands holding Anastasia’s waist possessively. This man can wrap around her like a snake, but she can’t even tell her dad I’m her friend? Kate surprises me by going up to Ray, greeting him and kissing him on both cheeks.
“Hello, Ray!”she says cheerfully. Then she drops the bomb, “have you met Ana’s boyfriend? Christian Grey.
The look on Anastasia’s face is priceless. You know like those commercials...
Finishing a four year degree, hundred-thousand Dollars; graduation cap and gown, two-hundred Dollars, your best friend introducing your would-be Dom to your father on the day of your graduation, priceless!

And that was the tag on her facial expression: Priceless. She was short of hyperventilating, as she didn’t even have time to pick her jaw up off the floor. I think if Ray wasn’t here, it should be Katherine that should have had her running shoes. The thought of it makes it worthwhile for the introduction. In a way, I’m glad she introduced me as her boyfriend. That should get the fucker’s possessive hands off of her! But it doesn’t.
“Mr. Steele, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say proffering my hand for Anastasia’s step-dad.
“Mr. Grey,” he says as his shock initial shock is wearing out. Then Katherine says, “And this is my brother, Ethan Kavanagh,” ever the social butterfly with the introductions.
“Mr. Kavanagh,”I say coldly. We shake hands, and since the bloody introductions is over, I extend my hand for Anastasia and call her, “Ana, baby,” and pull her away from the fucker’s grip. Inadvertently his sister helped me to declare my territory, and surprisingly, I find myself rather pleased with this new title I hold. I mentally try it for size: boyfriend. Anastasia’s boyfriend. I quite like that! Maybe more than I should...
Anastasia takes my proffered hand, and I pull her into my embrace where she belongs. As if on cue, Katherine says, “Ethan, Mom and Dad wanted a word,” dragging her brother away whose gaze keeps drifting back to Anastasia and me.
Anastasia’s step-dad turns his curious gaze back on us and says, “how long have you kids known each other?” while managing to look impassive, and taciturn but I know the look well, as I’ve mastered it. There is a mountain of questions, and right now he wants to know his daughter is safe.
Anastasia is safely in my arms, my fingers graze her bare back in her halter dress. Apparently she ditched the robe, and I approve what’s under my hand, I calmly answer her step-dad’s question:
“Couple of weeks or so now sir. We’ve met when Anastasia came to interview me for the student magazine,” I say smoothly.
He turns to her and says accusingly, “Didn’t know you worked at the magazine Ana. You never told me,” almost suspecting a lie.
“Kate was ill, so I came in her place,” says Anastasia, and her father nods.
“It was a great speech Mr. Grey,” he says finally with a tone of acquiescence.
“Thank you, sir,”I reply, and go for the kill, “I understand you’re a keen fisherman,” and he’s hooked.
“Yes, I love fishing!” he says enthusiastically. “Do you fish?”
“As much as I can get away. My father, my brother and I like to go fishing. You know, for some guy time...” I say, and he grins knowing the bonding element in fishing. We talk about hooks, and baits, and waters with good fishing. I see from my peripheral vision that Anastasia is both shocked at how quickly we are bonding over fishing and she’s also bored with the conversation. She excuses herself to go and find her roommate. Her absence gives me a chance to talk to her step-dad more frankly.
“Please, Mr. Steele. I’m your daughter’s boyfriend. Call me Christian,” I say, and his grin widens.
“Christian,” he tries it for size, and reciprocates, “a man who knows his fishing is alright in my book! Call me Ray!” he says sincerely. And that’s that; we’re bonded.
“I’m so glad I got to meet you sir,” I say with all my honesty.
“If I may bring a concern I have for Anastasia’s safety,” I say grabbing all his attention.
“Her safety? Is she in any kind of danger?” he asks with fervent concern in his tone.
“I believe so, though it’s not what you think. I got to see the vehicle she drives the other day, and it is not roadworthy. Though she seems to have an attachment to it, because you’ve purchased it. I know I can easily rectify this situation, because I would never forgive myself should something happen to her. So, I guess what I’m asking is if I may replace her current vehicle that you’ve purchased, with a safer vehicle? That will give me a big piece of mind, and I’m sure it would give you one as well,” I say.
“Oh. Christian, that’s a very generous offer, but we couldn’t be able to make payments...” he says, but I hold my hand up to stop him.
“Sir, it’s not a loan. It’s a graduation present for her. What good would it do for me to purchase something she wouldn’t need when I can give both of us piece of mind knowing that she’s out in the traffic safely. I worry about her a lot, and she seems to be very uncoordinated which raises my anxiety levels when it comes to her driving in that vehicle,” I say.
When Ray hears about Anastasia’s coordination issue, he knows what I’m talking about, and says grinning, “In that case Christian, you have my blessing. Go ahead. It might give me a piece of mind as well!”
“Thank you sir! And I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to her, because I want to do it as a surprise for her,” I say, and he reaches out and pats me on the back, approving. While we’re reaching the end of our graduation gift topic, Anastasia walks back from visiting with her roommate. Her step-father asks where he can find the restrooms, and Anastasia directs him. “I’ll see you kids in a little bit. Enjoy yourselves,” he says and walks in the direction of the restrooms. Anastasia takes a look at me, and her gaze is nervous. A photographer approaches us, and asks if he could take our picture. I inwardly smile. I had three new firsts today. I met Anastasia’s father – first parent of any girl, sub, slave, or otherwise I ever met, then asked his permission to purchase a car for her, and now, we’ve had our picture taken together. I’ve never appeared with a woman in pictures before.
“Thank you Mr. Grey,” says the photographer, and scurries away.
“I see that you’ve charmed my father as well...” says Anastasia, but what I focus on is what she didn’t say. Did I charm her too?
“As well, you say?” I ask her raising my eyebrows. She flushes. Shyness. But that’s not entirely it. She flushes most often because her desire for me has risen many notches. I lift her chin with my hand gently, and trace her cheek with my fingers.
“What are you thinking Anastasia?” I ask her in whispers. “What I wouldn’t give to know!” I say fervently, cupping her face, lifting her head so that we gaze into each other’s eyes intently. Her breath hitches. Though this is a crowded tent, all of a sudden we become oblivious to everyone. It’s just me and Anastasia.
I chuckle with the memory this tie is bringing to both of us, and say, “yes, it’s is nice. And quite recently it became my favorite.” She blushes redder than the Chinese flag. She’s lovely! She’s hot for me! She desires me right this moment, and wants to make love to me. It’s all in her gaze, and her body language, and the way she’s disregarding everyone surrounding us. The charge between us gets solid, palpable, tangible.
“You know it’s going to be good, don’t you baby?” I whisper. She closes her eyes with the intensity of her desire for me.
“But I want more,” she whispers. I know she wants more. It’s been in my dreams for days! She wants hearts and flowers.
“You want hearts and flowers,” I state, and she simply nods in confirmation.
“More,” I say trying the word on for size. Its taste is strange in my mouth. I’ve used it before, and didn’t like it; I didn’t concede to it. But with Anastasia, I’m here to compromise. I can’t escape her pull. But, I don’t know if I can do it! I have to be honest with her.
“Anastasia,” I could barely whisper, “baby, that’s not something I know.”
“Me neither,”she says. My heart melts. That’s my baby... I smile a little.
“Baby, you don’t know much,” I say. And whatever little she knows, she’s learned it in the last few days from yours truly.
“And what you know are all the wrong things,” she whispers. Why would she think that?
“Wrong? It’s not wrong to me,” I say shaking my head. “Please, try it,” I whisper challenging her, daring her to take the leap, and I give her my smile reserved only for her cocking my head to the side.
Her breath hitches with a gasp.
She looks intently into my eyes. I’m scared that she’ll say “No!” and run. But what I hear shocks me to my core!
“Okay,” she whispers.
I can’t believe my ears! She grabbed all my attention by the balls and I look into her eyes intently, trying not to misunderstand her. She swallows.
What?” I ask not believing my ears trying to confirm her answers.
“I said, Okay...”she pauses, “I’ll try.”
I’ve never been this happy in my entire life as I am right now. But I don’t want to be overjoyed if I’m misunderstanding something, and then later be disappointed. My heart can’t take it!
“You’re agreeing?”I ask with disbelief in my voice.
“I am, subject to the soft limits. So, my answer is yes. I’ll try,” she says in a small voice. But, third time is the charm, and I’m elated beyond belief. This is birthday, Christmas, and unexpected and desired present all bundled in one. I automatically pull her into my embrace, closing my eyes.
“Christ, Ana! You’re utterly unexpected. You take my breath away,”I say with awe, reverence and admiration in my voice. (← Take my Breath Away by Berlin) I don’t know whether to hold her, kiss her, or just take her away from here to have my way with her! I’m beyond happy!
Her step-father shows up when I’m entangled in my thoughts. When I see her step-father, I’m overjoyed enough to not to be able to conceal my feelings that I don’t care if the Pope himself showed up to admonish me! My eyes gleam with an undisguised happiness.
“Annie, could we get some lunch? I’m starved with all this waiting around,” he says.
“Okay,” she says, meanwhile trying to center herself. Ray turns his head to me and asks, “Would you like to join us for lunch Christian?” Anastasia gazes up to me with her big blue eyes almost terrified with the prospect of being under the scrutiny of two men in her life. The thought makes me incredibly happy. I’m the main man in her life now! Me! I don’t think, an emperor who conquered a country of his deepest desires could be as elated and joyful and fucking happy as I am right this moment! So, I’ll give you this with your father Miss Steele. I can finally acquiesce to be apart from you knowing that I can have you in my arms, back where you belong...
“Thank you Mr. Steele, but I have other plans sir. It’s been an honor to meet you,” I say.
“Likewise Christian,” he says, “Remember to look after my baby girl,” he says conspiratorially.
It makes me smile, “Oh, I fully intend to, Mr. Steele.” We shake hands. I turn my gaze on Anastasia. She just takes my breath away. I take her hand into mine, and raise it to my lips, kiss each of the knuckles tenderly, my eyes and gaze are ember with my salacity and desire for her looking into hers.
Taylor as always finds me as soon as he knows I’m away from my company and its time to go. He takes one look at my face, and I can see he gives a slow sigh of relief, and mutters under his breath looking ahead expressionless, “Congratulations sir!”as if I've completed the rescue mission without a hitch. I nod in response, still reeling in from giddiness.
“Where to sir?”he asks.
“Take me back to Heathman’s,” I say. I need to have lunch, and work seeing as I’ve done my big share of conquering this morning.
I order in, and get to work. Taylor and I go for a run in the evening to work out. Taylor’s mood is lifted in direct proportion with mine. God! This woman can wiggle her little finger and take us men all in! She’ll be the death of me. My beautiful poison, and antidote... When we come back, I take a shower. I quickly dress in my white t-shirt and jeans. I quickly make my way to my laptop to type a message to Anastasia.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Soft Limits
Date: May 26 2011 17:23
To: Anastasia Steele
Is there anything I can say that I haven’t already?
Anytime you wish to talk about these, I’d be happy to talk to you.
You looked breathtaking tonight.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I can fucking barely contain myself. Her response is instantaneous. As soon as the e-mail dings, I click on it my hands are shaking.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Soft Limits
Date: May 26 2011 17:24
To: Christian Grey
I can come over this evening to discuss if it’s convenient for you.
Convenient? Baby, I’ve been waiting for you to just nod at me for a while now! I’ve been starved for your affection. If she doesn’t know how to punish with sex, or if she doesn’t have an innate ability, I’d change my name! She has a natural mastery; I’m ready to explode. But I don’t want her to drive in that death-trap for one thing, and two, if she comes, she can leave anytime. I want to have it in my terms. I type her a response right away.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Soft Limits
Date: May 26 2011 17:28
To: Anastasia Steele
Anastasia, I’d rather come to you. Please believe me when I say that I’m quite unhappy with you driving that car of yours.
I’ll be with you shortly.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

I’m already dressed.
“Taylor!” I call.
“Yes sir,” he shows up right away.
“Two things. One, call the bar, and have them ready a chilled bottle of ‘Bollinger Grande Année Rosé 1999’ and have the SUV ready to drive me to Miss Steele’s in 10 minutes. You can drop me off, and be back at nine,” I say.

“Yes, sir,” he says to go and place the wine order.

I print a copy of Anastasia’s e-mail, and a copy of the contract. Fold it, and put the papers in my jacket. Make my way downstairs to meet Taylor.


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.