Chapter XXII ← Christian and Anastasia Fanfiction

IT’S HARD TO SAY GOODBYE

CHAPTER XXII

I wake up with Anastasia trashing in my arms.

“No!” she moans in her sleep. “No! Don’t go Christian!” she mumbles. (← Love Story by Taylor Swift)

“Hey, hey...” I say rubbing her hair, trying to calm her down. She relaxes under my touch. It’s dark. I can see the city lights from my uncovered windows.  I find my arms and legs are draped around Anastasia, claiming her even in my sleep.

“Don’t go please! I'm scared. Christian I love you...” she moans, shuddering in her sleep. I kiss her hair, closing my eyes. It’s the best sound I’ve heard since she said that for the first time yesterday in her sleep.  But yet, I'm scared to hear that. Daunted to my core. Thank God, she's asleep. I don't think I can handle this if she was awake. I can't be loved. I shouldn't be loved. I'm tained. Fucked up. Dirty. Unworthy...

“I can’t...” she says with an intake of a shuddering breath, her arm extending to an unseen person in the dark.

“Baby...” I whisper into her ear, “I’m not going anywhere...” I say trying to reassure her. “Don’t you leave me! I need you...” I whisper. She sighs in her sleep. She sighs. "Never..." she says before drifting off.

"Never what?" I think to myself.

"Never what baby?"

“I'll never leave you Christian,” she mutters barely audible, but that single sentence gives me the biggest peace, best reassurance I’ve ever had in my entire life. Knowledge of the fact that she wants me, and she won’t leave me comforts me, relaxes me as if a ton of load has been lifted off of my shoulders. I’m in awe of this woman who takes me by surprise even in her sleep.  My clock reads 5:16 a.m. I could get up and work out since I have a long day ahead of me. I gaze at her sleeping. I could watch her for hours. She loves me! Me! I'm beyond elated. I would love to hear that from her. No! I don't want to hear it from her. I’m too scared of the idea. I’m not worthy of her...or of her love. I’m one fucked-up son-of-a-crack-whore! I’m worthy of nothing. Certainly not the likes of her, but I'm a selfish man who now desires to have this angel I'm holding in my arms. How did I get so lucky to have her? I move uneasily. I pull my arms away from around her.  I need to go to work out. I want to keep watching her in her now peaceful slumber. But when I move my arms away from her, her body shifts and turns to me, seeking me in the dark. She’s drawn to me too! What a comfort it is to know that! Everything she does pull at my heart  strings!

I slowly move away from the bed. I stand by the bed, gazing down at her in the semi darkness with the only illumination coming from the city peering in through my large windows. She’s beautiful. Enchanting. Captivating. I go to my closet and put my workout sweats on. I go by the bed, and peek at Anastasia one last time before I leave for the gym.

When I get downstairs to workout, Taylor is already there. He eyes me warily, and notices my calm demeanor, and continues his workout by acknowledging my presence.

“Good morning sir,” he says politely. I nod as a response. “Morning.”

We work out over an hour. I run, lift weights, row, and swim. We get back to my penthouse. I take my shower. Put on my black pants and white shirt. I walk into the kitchen. Mrs. Jones is already busy in the kitchen.

“Would you like your breakfast right now sir?”

“Not right now Mrs. Jones. I’m going to work a little. You know Miss Anastasia Steele is here as I briefed you earlier. She would prefer Twinings English tea in the morning as opposed to coffee. I’ll have some coffee now.”

“Certainly sir. I can make her tea once she wakes up. I have your coffee ready sir,” she says handing me a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“Thank you Mrs. Jones,” I say as I take my coffee.

“If Miss Steele asks, I’ll be in my office working,” I say.

“Yes sir,” she responds politely.

I walk to my study, and Taylor is present to be briefed for the day’s activities. We go over the schedule, and he goes back to his office. I open and check my e-mails. There’s a message from my right hand Ros about a company we’re debating between keeping and liquidating. She sent me the Profit & Loss ledgers, and it’s pitiful. I call her up to discuss it further.

“Mr. Grey,” she says by the way of greeting.

“Ros, what’s up with the P&L of the company we’ve acquired last year? Why are the earnings down for the fourth quarter in a row?”

“It’s the economy sir. She was already doing poorly, and since the time we’ve acquired her, she’s shown slight improvement, but not enough to recover from the losses.”

“I see the ‘slight improvement’ you’re talking about. It’s fucking not enough! The company is a dead weight! Unless it’s P&L improves, I’m not interested keeping it, Ros. We’re not carrying dead weight...” I say.

“I suggest we implement some changes, and perhaps replace the CFO. I have someone in mind that might be able to pull it up by the boot straps. But, I don’t know it that will be enough. It might cost us some money...” she says, as I interrupt her.

“Look, I don’t need any more lame excuses. It’s costing us too much money. Have Marco call me, it’s shit or bust time...”

“Yes, sir. Also, Barney wanted to know what you thought of the prototype, or if you have any suggestions for an improvement.”

“Yes, tell Barney that the prototype looks good, though I’m not sure about the interface...”

“Do you not like the interface? It comes with high recommendations of our engineers,” she says.

“”No, it’s just missing something... In fact, him and his team, we can brainstorm...”

“That’s actually a very good idea. You know I’m not very technical, but you can convey your concerns to the engineering team. If there’s nothing else, Andrea can schedule the meeting for this afternoon.”

“Okay. Transfer me back to Andrea...” I say.

I feel a gaze on me. Anastasia's gaze. The palpable electric. She’s here, in the room. I glance up, and see her. Seeing her brings up a slow, sexy smile up on my face. She looks at me, speechless. She takes in a shaky breath, as if she left her sanity outside the door. I continue my conversation with Andrea, but my eyes fixed on Anastasia, never leaving hers. This is the sight that makes me feel completely alive... (← I’m Alive by Celine Dion)

“Andrea. Clear my schedule this morning, but get Bill to call me. I’ll be in at two. I need to talk to Marco this afternoon, that will need at least half an hour...”

“Barney was seeking to be scheduled in sir. When would you like to see him?” says Andrea.

“Schedule Barney and his team in after Marco, or maybe tomorrow, and find time for me to see Claude every day this week...”

“When would you like to see Dr. Flynn sir?”

“Tell him to wait... I’ll confirm that later.”

“About the shipment to the Darfur. Would you like any publicity for it sir?”

“Oh... No, I don’t want publicity for Darfur...” I say.

“Sam says that there may be some issues with the shipment drop sir.”

“Tell Sam to deal with it...” I say irritated. Do I have to think of everything?

“Are you aware of an upcoming event you’re invited sir?”

“No... Which event?”

“It’s a ball given by the American Shipbuilders Association next Saturday.”

“You said next Saturday?... Hold on.” I say.

“When will you be back from Georgia?” I ask Anastasia.

“Friday,” she responds.

“I’ll need an extra ticket because I have a date...” I say.

“I beg your pardon sir? Did you say you have a date?”

“Yes Andrea, that’s what I said, a date, Miss Anastasia Steele will accompany me.”

“I apologize sir. I couldn’t hear you well. Anything else sir?”

“That’s all,” I say hanging up. My eyes never left Anastasia.

“Good morning Miss Steele.”

“Mr. Grey,” she says shyly.

She’s frozen in her place. I walk around my desk and stand in front of her. I gently stroke her cheek with the back of my fingers.

“I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful. Did you sleep well?”

“I am very well-rested, thank you. I just came to say hi before I had a shower,” she says. She gazes up at me, drinking me in. I lean down and kiss her gently. At that instant, she throws her arms around my neck, and her fingers twisting in my still damp hair. She pushes her body flush against mine, and she kisses me back fervently, passionately. She wants me...right now. Her attack takes me by surprise, but, it’s also a welcome one. After a beat, I respond, a low groan in my throat. My hands slip into her hair, and down to her back, cupping her naked behind while my tongue exploring her mouth. I pull back, my eyes are hooded.

“Well, Anastasia, sleep seems to agree with you,” I murmur.

“I suggest you go and have your shower, or I will lay you across my desk now,” I say.

“I choose the desk,” she whispers desirously. I stare at her bewildered for a tiny second.

“You’ve really got a taste for this, haven’t you Miss Steele? You’re becoming insatiable,” I murmur.

“I’ve only got a taste for you,” she whispers, completely disarming me. My eyes widen and darken with desire while my hands knead her naked backside.

“Damn right, only me,” I growl at my woman, and suddenly with one fluid movement, I swipe my arm on my desk scattering all the contents – plans and papers off my desk dropping them onto the floor. I sweep her up in my arms, and lay her down across the short end of the desk.

“You want it, you got it, baby,” I mutter, taking out a foil from my pants’ pocket while unzipping my pants. I roll the condom down on to my length and gaze down at her.

“I sure hope you are ready,” I breathe with a salacious smile. In that instant, I enter her, filling her while holding her wrists tightly by her side, and I start thrusting into her deeply. She groans with pleasure. She’s so wet already.

“Christ, Ana! You’re so ready,” I whisper with admiration.

She wraps her legs around my waist, and hold onto me that way, as I stand staring down at her, my eyes glowing with passion and possessiveness of this woman. She’s mine, and she wants me to claim her again. It pleases me. I start to move, and pick up momentum. I fuck her deep, and hard, and she groans with pleasure. It’s pure lust, pure possession, pure carnal desire...and something else beneath all of that thick exterior. Something coming from my core. I move, and move, reveling in the feeling of my woman. My lips are parted and my breathing increases as I get close to my peak. I twist my hips, gyrating and I see that she too is enjoying the feeling of fullness well.

She closes her eyes, and arches her back for me as her peak is also approaching. My thrusts are increases, and she moans loudly with sensation taking over her body. I thrust faster and harder in a rapid rhythm. Her whole body is moving along with my movements and I feel her legs stiffening around me as she’s trying to hold onto the feeling.

“Come on, baby, give it up for me,” I coax her through gritted teeth, and the need in me sends her over the edge. She cries out as she reaches her climax, and I slam into her as I reach my climax, and finally at my peak I pull at her wrists and sink wordlessly onto her. I’m completely taken by her. She sweeps me off and I lose my reason. She changes my plans. I lose control. When I’m near her, I want nothing but her! (←Fireworks by Kathy Perry)

“What the hell are you doing to me Ana?” I breathe as I nuzzle her neck. “You completely beguile me. You weave some powerful magic.”

I release her wrists, and she runs her fingers through my hair as she tightens her legs around me.

“I’m the one who is beguiled Christian,” she whispers. I look up to her perplexed, alarmed. I am torn. I look up at her, gazing. All of a sudden I have this flood of emotions of love for her, and it scares me! I'm not familiar with it! I don't know how to handle it! This is not okay. Not for me... I cannot love! She’s too innocent, and I don’t want her to get hurt by me. But I fucking want her. The selfish side of me says that she is mine in every sense of the word. I place my hands on both sides of her face and hold her head in place.

“You. Are. Mine!” I say with each word staccato. “Do you understand?” I say most ardently like a zealot. But it’s also my plea to her. I want her to remain mine. Not go away. Not to leave me. The feeling I have for her is ripping my heart apart right now. I'm completely torn between what I know, what is safe, and what my heart desires...

“Yes, yours,” she whispers returning my gaze. How can I handle being away from her nearly a week?

“Are you sure you have to go to Georgia?” I ask her. She nods slowly. I don’t want to push her and make her run away from me. I close my emotions, and push them down; bringing forth my impassive face which took me years to master. Abruptly I withdraw from her, and she winces.

“Are you sore?” I ask leaning over her concerned.

“A little,” she confesses. I smile; that’s good. I made her that way, and I’ve claimed her. That’s where I’ve been. She’d do well to remember that.

“I like you sore,” I say with passion in my eyes. “Reminds you where I’ve been, and only me,” I say with smoldering desire. Will I ever get enough of her?

I grab her chin and kiss her roughly, then stand up, hold my hand out to her to help her out. She glances at the ripped condom packet beside her and murmurs, “Always prepared.” I stare at the empty packet she’s holding in her hands.

“A man can hope, Anastasia, dream even, and sometimes his dreams come true.” She looks confused. I am a man who didn’t even have humble beginnings. From the second I was conceived, I was fucked-up. A birth mother who was a crack whore, a father who was one of her clients most likely, and the constant abuse by her pimps, and she was too wrapped in her own sorrows to be a real mother. On top of that she killed herself leaving me to tend for myself for four days with her dead body only to be found by her pimp and to be kicked around! Until Dr. Grace Trevelyan-Grey in her angelic white doctor’s smock decided to adopt me... Even then, I was unworthy of that perfect family. Unworthy of their love and affection, unworthy of what they bestowed upon me. I had nothing to offer. There was one direction for me to go, and it was down...to hell in a hand basket. How could a tainted child fits in a class of angels? Whatever I did wouldn’t be good enough to reach them.

I dreamed to reach up to that status...to fit among them somehow. (←Dream On by Aerosmith)  I tried  exceptionally hard. Worked even harder. Learned all I can. Fought my hardest to get to where I am. I remained focused, controlled and in control. Somehow with an unknown grace I’m undeserving of, I am here...in the presence of this angelic woman who has feelings for me. The fear that she might be taken away from me is immense. That somehow I might make her run away from me is more than unbearable. I shut down in order to shut the fears down.

“So, on your desk, that’s been a dream?” she asks dryly with humor. I smile an enigmatic smile which only remains upon my lips without touching my eyes. Of course this isn’t the first time I’ve had sex on my desk. I’ve had it numerous times. But with Anastasia it’s different. Because she’s different. Her face changes with my expression. She becomes uncomfortable, jealous even.

“I’d better go and have a shower,” she says standing and trying to make a move to get past me. I don’t want her to run away from me. It’s unbearable. I frown and run my hand through my hair in exasperation. But I need to be away from her pull.

“I’ve got a couple more calls to make. I’ll join you for breakfast once you’re done with your shower. I think Mrs. Jones has laundered your clothes from yesterday. They’re in the closet,” I say to her. She looks surprised.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

“You’re most welcome,” I say, my reply automatic. She gives me a strange look.

“What?” I ask in reply to her frown.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. How does she do that?

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well... you’re being more weird than usual.”

“You find me weird?” I ask trying to suppress a smile. She blushes of course.

“Sometimes,” she replies. I look at her speculatively.

“As ever, I’m surprised by you, Miss Steele,” I say. She does things like the unexpected treat of desk sex, or reprimands me in her own way.

“Surprised how?” she asks me.

“Let’s just say that was an unexpected treat.”

“We aim to please, Mr. Grey,” she says giving me back my own words, cocking her head to side.

“And please me you do,” I say. I get flooded with that emotion again, and it makes me uncomfortable. I’m not used to it. Because it makes me lose control. Lose my reason. With her proximity...I don’t want to lose control to this emotion brewing inside me. It’s unsettling.

“I thought you were going to have a shower,” I say trying to send her off, to block this emotion flooding through.

“Yes...  um, I’ll see you in a moment,” she says and leaves my study confused, sort of upset.

When she leaves my study, I sink back into my chair. Hold my head between my hands trying to reel myself in, to here and now to gather my senses, and my wits about. She completely disarms me. But it’s not only that. I respond to her in such a way that it’s like a planet being pulled into the sun’s orbit. I see nothing else but her. I exist nowhere else but with her. The only way to briefly escape this captivation is to have a little distance from her. But when I put the distance between us, I ache for her. It’s my conundrum. I shake my head, try to busy myself with something else. I pick up the plans I tossed on to the floor. I put extra attention to my task.

I finally get back to my phone calls to sort this afternoon’s work schedule. I write notes for the afternoon’s brainstorming session for the prototype we’re designing. Before I know it, nearly thirty minutes have passed since Anastasia left my study. She must be done with her shower by now, and ready to eat her breakfast.  

I come down from my study to the kitchen and I hear Mrs. Jones asking Anastasia if she’d like her tea now. She responds “Please,” to Mrs. Jones.

“Would you like something to eat?” Mrs. Jones asks.

“No, thank you,” Anastasia responds to my displeasure.

“Of course you’ll have something to eat,” I snap, glowering as I walk into the kitchen area. “She likes pancakes, bacon, and eggs, Mrs. Jones,” I say.

“Yes Mr. Grey. What would you like sir?” she asks me.

“Omelet please, and some fruit,” I reply while my gaze is fixed on Anastasia. I’m in her pull again, within her orbit. “Sit,” I order her pointing to one of the bar stools.

She sits, and I take the seat next to hers.

I lean and whisper, “Have you purchased your airline ticket?”

“No, I’ll buy it when I get home online,” she responds. If she waited that long, perhaps she doesn't have the money necessary to purchase to which my heart wrenches. Why didn't I think of that before?

I lean in a little more and I want to ask her if she needs money for the ticket. But knowing how she is with receiving gifts, I am running out of options for a way to ask her. I rub my chin in contemplation.

“Do you have the money for the ticket?” I ask finally.

“Yes,” she says with a mock patience as if she’s talking to an annoying toddler. I raise a reprimanding eyebrow at her, and she immediately amends herself.

“Yes, I do. Thank you.”

But, I don’t want her to travel in coach if I can help it. I have a jet she can use. I’d do just about anything for her; put everything I own at her feet...if she only knew.

“I have a jet,” I say by the way of introduction to what I want to say. “It’s not scheduled to be used for three days; it’s at your disposal should you wish it.”

She gapes at me in response. A flicker of emotions passes through her face. Anger, surprise, amusement, shock. Finally she manages to suppress all of them, and says, “We’ve already made serious misuse of your company’s aviation fleet. I wouldn’t want to do it again.”

I feel hurt with her rejection. I can do whatever I want with what I have. That’s the point of having the company all to myself. I worked so hard to do as I wish, not so that I end up answering to others.

“It’s my company, it’s my jet,” I say without being able to keep the hurt out of my voice. Why is she always refusing my efforts to take care of her?

“Thank you for the offer. But, I’d be much happier taking a regular scheduled flight.” I narrow my eyes, but I want to also pick my battles carefully with her. I’m trying not to be overbearing. So, I say nothing further on the subject. Maybe I can upgrade her flight at least.

“As you wish then,” I say sighing. “Do you have to prepare for your interview today?” I ask for a change of topic.

“No.” she responds.

“Great. Are you still not going to tell me which publishing houses you’re interviewing for?” I ask.

“Nope,” she replies with a smile.

My lips curl up into a smile as a response to her. I can still find out.

“I’m a man of means Miss Steele,” I say to that effect.

“I’m fully aware of that Mr. Grey. Are you going to track my phone again?” she asks me with a completely innocent face.

“As a matter of fact, I’ll be quite busy this afternoon, so I’ll have to get someone else to do it for me,” I say smirking. She thinks I’m joking, but in a lot of matters where it concerns Anastasia, I don’t joke around.

“If you can spare someone to do that, you’re obviously overstaffed Sir,” she states serenely.

“In that case, I’ll just send an e-mail to the head of human resources and have her check into our head count,” I say trying to suppress a smile.

After we’re served breakfast, Mrs. Jones leaves to give us some privacy. Anastasia finally peaks up at me wanting to ask me something but not knowing how to approach the topic. I can’t take the suspense anymore.

“What is it Anastasia?” I ask.

“You know, you never did tell me why you don’t like to be touched.” Oh, that. I blanche, because it’s a topic I try to avoid at all cost. She looks away worried.

“I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anybody Anastasia,” I respond quietly. My gaze is impassive, I’m anything but. I don’t like to talk about those issues, because it brings up a time where I was helpless, and had no control on what happened to me, or around me. I’m too far away from that time now, and I don’t want to refresh those horrible memories up again which often visit me at night in my dreams.

She finally shakes her head  as if to clear it from the thoughts she’s having.

“Will you think about our arrangement while you’re away?” I ask.

“Yes,” she responds honestly. She gazes at me. Those eyes... I’m lost in them.

“Will you miss me?” I ask wanting so much for her to want me as much as I want her.

She gazes back at me again surprised by my question. Why is she surprised that I desire her to miss me, or that I want to know whether she would miss me...really, truly miss me, as I would miss her.

“Yes,” she answers, and I see nothing but the truth in her answer. Relief completely washes over me.

“I’ll miss you too,” I respond to her answer without even realizing. “More than you know,” I breathe. I’ll have a hard time bearing to be apart from her. Her gaze warms with my response. I want her to see how hard I’m trying to meet her halfway, more than halfway. I stroke her cheek, and bend down and kiss her softly.

I don’t want to let her go, but she needs to get to her apartment to book her flight, and get ready for her interviews, and pack up to leave tomorrow. I’m going to miss her so much. I hold and kiss her long and hard.

“Anastasia, I want you to take your MacBook, and your Blackberry with you. And this is not a request,” I say fervently. I can't bear of not being in touch with her for that lenght of time. If she is not here, I have to have something tangible, reachable, at least to hear her voice, or read her words.

“Okay,” she says without an argument which pleases me.

“I need to be able to keep in touch with you...at all times,” I say. It’s not just my need to control her, or just the proprietorship, though those feelings are ever present. I need to fulfill the feeling of connection with her. I can’t bear to have it severed even for a few days. The thought of it is too painful.

She finally picks her things up to leave, and she’s saying goodbye to me here.

“I’ll walk you down to your car,” I say.

“You don’t have to do that Christian,” she says making me frown.

“I’m not doing it because I have to, I’m doing it because I want to,” I reply. Geez! Can’t I even walk my woman to her car? I take her hand as the elevator door dings open. I’m lost in thoughts of her. What if she is going away to put a distance between us. Not just a physical distance, but also an emotional distance, to look for other romantic possibilities. The thought is killing me. I am going to miss her so much. I’m already feeling it though space between us is less than a few inches.

All of a sudden I have this enormous desire for her, and pull her into my arms, capture her face between my hands “I’m going to miss you,” I say fervently. (←It’s Now or Never by Elvis Presley)  Her eyes widen with my declaration, but she reaches up and touches my face as I close my eyes to lose myself in it, and she captures my lips raising herself on her toes, and I respond with a groan and dip down and kiss her, our tongues twirling, mixing while left hand holding her at the nape of her neck, my right hand captures her ass and I push her into me making her feel my erection.

“I’m going to miss you... miss this,” I say into her lips, and she moans.

The elevator dings opens, and I take her hand into mine, gaze at her once more, and walk her to her car. How will I make thought the week without her? Distraction... Flying, or sailing though nothing will be as good as if she was here... I look at her with longing again. "Come back soon..." I wishiper.

"I will..." she says and smiles.