CHAPTER XXIX ← Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

HOMEWARD BOUND

CHAPTER XXIX

Early morning brings me no relief. (←Sorrow - Gladiator soundtrack) I am running on auto pilot. Get up, work-out, shower, get dressed, eat, and tend to problems I may have caused or are brought to my doorstep. But at this point it really doesn’t matter. Leila and I have a shared history. She was one of my long term relationships. I can’t think of abandoning her at the time of need. I have a strong feeling that I’m the cause of her breakdown, or at least a big part of it. Why else would she come here? Remembering how Mrs. Jones described her disheveled appearance, my heart constricts anew. How did she get to that from being a vibrant, lively, mischievous woman? She was still all those things when we parted our ways; when she found someone to marry when I made it clear to her that I didn’t want ‘more’. I never wanted more. Not until Anastasia. But Leila found her more in the form of a husband, didn’t she?

Then what happened? Does he know that she was here trying to cut herself? Of course not. If he knew, he’d be attending her needs like a husband should.

I get to my study after accepting a cup of black coffee with skim milk from Mrs. Jones.

I press two numbers on my phone on the desk, Taylor answers, “Yes, sir.”

“I need you for a briefing Taylor,” I say.

“Coming sir,” he replies, I hang up.

“Taylor, I want you to liaise with Welch. Find out where Leila’s husband is, and speak to him personally. Find out whether he’s still with Leila, and if not, find out the reason of their separation. When Welch touches bases with her parents, I want to know every detail, in writing. Got it?”

“Of course, sir,” he replies firmly.

My Blackberry buzzes, I check the phone and it’s Welch. Taylor turns to leave, but I hold my finger indicating him to stay for another minute. This may be something he too has to hear.

“Welch, I’m going to put you on speaker phone, and I want Taylor to hear what you have to say. I want him to liaise between you and me if I’m not available. You can reach him anytime, and you have his contact information.”

“Yes, sir,” Welch replies. “The reason I’m calling you about is this. About a little over two months ago, Leila left her husband after finding herself another lover. From what her husband said, she seemed in love with him, and has hasn’t had contact with her since, and he specifically said that neither does he care to hear from her, after, ahem,” he said clearing his throat, “and I’m quoting the husband here, ‘fucking another son-of-a-bitch while she was still under him’. So, it turns out she has been with this new boyfriend for the last two months. We don’t know who this boyfriend is though. That’s what I’m trying to find out. I have tried to reach the family, but they haven’t answered their phones yet. I’ll try them today as well to see if they have any information on her whereabouts or the new boyfriend she has in her life. That could give us a good lead sir,” he said.

“Are you getting all this?” I ask Taylor. (←Hearing the Damage by Tom Yorke)

“Yes, sir,” he replies coolly.

“Meanwhile, keep your eyes and ears open to see or hear if she’s checked into another hospital, or whether the police records, or anything new that may mention her name until we find her. She’s bound to pop out of somewhere. It doesn’t make sense that she comes to my house trying to commit suicide, and then disappear. She’s got to be somewhere in the city. “

“Are there any close friends, or acquaintances she has in town sir, or in the surrounding cities that you know of?”

“Not that I know of. That’s now your job to uncover. Anything else?”

“Nothing else sir,” he says, and I remind him, to keep in touch with Taylor and hang up.

“Taylor, this is now your priority to look into. Let me know the second you uncover something.”

“Of course sir,” he replies.

My Blackberry buzzes letting me know I have an incoming message. Taylor turns to go back again, but I hold my finger at him once more. The message is from Anastasia.

______________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Homeward bound
Date: June 3 2011 12:52 EST
To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey

I’m once again in the enclosure of the first class for which I thank you. I’m counting the minutes until I see you this evening, and perhaps torturing the truth out of you about my nocturnal admissions.

Your Ana x

______________________________________

I type her a quick response.

______________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Homeward bound
Date: June 3 2011 09:57
To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia, I look forward to seeing you.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

______________________________________

Then turn to Taylor and tell him to take me to CEH within the next 30 minutes. I have so much work to do. That’s on top of the unexpected problems arisen due to Leila.

______________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Homeward bound
Date: June 3 2011 13:00 EST
To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey

I hope everything is okay regarding the situation. The tone of your email is worrying.

Your Ana x

______________________________________

Oh, I don’t want to upset her, or worry her with my problems. It’s not something I can’t resolve, but currently occupying my mind. But is she writing me from inside the airplane? If so, have they taken off? Is she putting herself in danger? Currently, I can only deal with one woman who is putting herself in danger, and I especially don’t want Anastasia to be the other.

______________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Homeward bound
Date: June 3 2011 10:03
To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia, the situation could be better. Have you taken off yet? If you have, you shouldn’t be emailing me. You are putting yourself as well as the lives of others in the plane at risk which is a direct infraction of the rule regarding your personal safety. I meant what I said about punishments.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

______________________________________

I hit send. I don’t have the patience to deal with rule breaking today. Her response is nearly immediate.

______________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: overreaction
Date: June 3 2011 13:05 EST
To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grumpy,

The aircraft doors are still open and everyone’s lives including my own are quite safe. We are delayed for about ten minutes. You may stow your twitchy palm for now.

Miss Steele

______________________________________

This ‘situation’ is making me edgy and I’m even brusque with my girlfriend. I quickly type to apologize.

______________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Apologies – stowing the twitchy palm away
Date: June 3 2011 10:07
To: Anastasia Steele

I miss you and your smart mouth Miss Steele.

I just want you home safely.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

______________________________________

I couldn’t handle it if anything had happened to her because she was being careless to send me a text message.

______________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: apology accepted
Date: June 3 2011 13:09 EST
To: Christian Grey

They’re closing the doors now. You won’t hear another peep from me especially given your deafness.

Laters,

Ana x

______________________________________

After I receive her last message, I make my way out to the living room where Taylor is waiting to drive me.

“Taylor, do you have Miss Steele’s arrival information?”

“Of course, sir,” he replies.

“Alright. It appears that I have more work than I could finish today, so I need you to pick her up when she arrives, and bring her back to Escala this evening.”

“Certainly, sir,” he responds. We arrive at GEH and Andrea scuttles behind me into my office to go over my upcoming meetings for the day.

My fucking day is filled with one stressful incident after another. Right after Andrea, Ros comes in. In her pack and a half cigarette smoked raspy, but I-cut-to-the-chase voice she gives me the gist on our disaster of an acquisition of a company which we are trying to liquidate now.

“Cost, Ros, what is the bottom line in cost?”

She shifts in her seat, uncomfortable.

“Final number sir is sixty-seven million Dollars...” her voice is steady but low.

“Sixty-seven fucking million Dollars? How did we back into such a shitty trap? I want all the details, down to the last penny, and have finance send me an extensive cost analysis report, immediately!” I bark.

“Yes Mr. Grey,” she says knowing she’s dismissed, and quickly makes her way out of my office.

I press the intercom.

“Yes Mr. Grey,” answers Andrea.

“Get Welch on the line,” I order.

“Right away, sir.”

Two minutes later the phone rings.

“Yes, Mr. Grey,” he answers.

“Do you have any update for me?”

“Mr. Grey, her husband is being most uncooperative. He doesn’t care what happens to her, he said he doesn’t care if she kills herself, by hanging, cutting, throwing herself off a bridge, or shooting. We tried to be very persuasive. Since he doesn’t care for her well-being, we tried to coax information by paying him,” says Welch.

“Fucking bastard! Does he care nothing about her? Did she mean nothing to him that he can be so calloused?” I rant.

“Mr. Grey, he’s vindictive, and hasn’t passed the fact that she cheated on him, and ran out on him with some other man she fell in love with. That’s the story we could gather from acquaintances.”

“How about the family?”

“It’s still work in progress sir. The family lives on the other side of the country. They knew she ran out on her husband, and that she was happy with the new guy she was with. But the parents said that the sister might have more information and we were unable to get in touch with her.”

“Do they know her whereabouts?”

“No sir. The last she was in touch with them was after she ran out of her husband. Nothing since.”

“Keep searching. I want her found Welch!”

“Yes sir,” he says firmly.

I hang up.

The work day is dragging with one issue after another, and I’m frustrated with all the emergencies at my door. I have a late meeting, and I call Taylor in to pick Anastasia up from the airport.

“Bring her back to Escala,” I reiterate my earlier order.

“I will sir.” He leaves. As soon as my meeting is over, I drive myself back to Escala. I make it to my penthouse around 6:00 p.m. My Blackberry never stops ringing.

“Mr. Grey, this is Welch here,” says Welch by the way of greeting.

“Do you have an update for me?” I ask.

“Mr. Grey, we’ve been searching her old address, old neighbors, and former friends and acquaintances.  So far no one has seen her in more than three months.”

“No trace then?”

“None so far sir. But we’ll keep searching.”

“Okay.”

Would you like me to update if we get partial information?”

“Yes.” Then I feel it. That gaze, on my back... watching me.  (←I Just In Your Arms Tonight by Cutting Crew) I didn’t even realize that my entire body was tense, but that connection, that electricity somehow changes my whole demeanor. Tension leaves my body, peace floods as I find my center with the sight of my girlfriend. Girlfriend. My ‘more’.  I feel that intense desire blooming inside me as my body calls to hers. I gaze at her with a sensual carnality, my eyes blazing. She’s speechless, quiet. She feels the same pull. The same attraction. Same desire. I thank God every day for finding her, and sending her to me.

“Keep me informed,” I say to Welch and turn my phone off without breaking gaze with Anastasia. She’s paralyzed in her spot at the entry to the living room. I close the distance between us in long strides, my eyes devouring this beauty as if I haven’t seen her in ages, and not yesterday. With all the shitty things that have been happening since yesterday, she’s like an angel with her innocent, beguiling aura. My jaw is tense with the stress, and I’m beyond anxious. I finally shrug off my gray suit jacket, then undo the dark tie and finally sling them both on the couch as I make my way to my woman. As I reach her, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to me hard and fast, and grip her ponytail to tilt her head up to meet my lips. I kiss her as if my life depends on it; and it does. She’s my lifeline. She’s my rock, and one that steadies me in the midst of the damned, fucked-up past, and what it brings forth to me.

She is surprised at my desperation, and the primal quality in my kiss. I have barely made through this last day. Mostly I’m a man, who is an island, but today, it’s different; my need for Anastasia is paramount. My kiss says it all: I want you. I need you. Save me. Love me. Be with me. Let me take over control so I don't feel lost anymore! (←I Want You to Take Over Control by Afrojack) At this point in time, I’m elated that she’s back, that she still wants me, desires me. I pour all the anxiety that has been brewing over since I learned she was leaving town finally comes to a boiling point. She starts kissing me with equal fervor as she twists and fists her fingers in my hair. She inhales me as if she wants to devour me, love me, and taste me in her hot sexy way. I drag my mouth away from her momentarily, and stare at her. The relief of her presence is monumental. My heart twists and constricts with an unnamed emotion. Desire, lust, want, love?

“What’s wrong?” she breathes.

“I’m so glad you’re back. Shower with me...Now.” I command, completely evading her question.

“Yes,” is her whispering reply as I grab her hand leading her out of the living room into my bedroom and to my master bathroom.

Once we are in the bathroom, I release her hand, and turn the shower on. I slowly turn to her, and gaze at this beautiful creature before me.

“I like your skirt,” I say taking in her too short skirt, “It’s very short,” I say. “You have great legs.”

Stepping out of my shoes, I lower myself down and take each of my socks off, while my eyes constantly lingering on Anastasia. The hunger, the desire I feel for her is tangible; overtaking me. She mirrors my actions by taking off her black flats. This is all I can take right now with her close proximity, in my bathroom. After all that’s gone through within the last day and a half, I want nothing but to bury myself in her, lose all train of thought, forget everything even my name, and unite with her. Suddenly my patience is lost and I reach for her, backing her against the wall. I start kissing her with all the emotion pouring out of me, her lips, her face, her throat, back to her lips as I run my hands into her hair. Her back is against the cool tile wall. I push myself against her as in a bid to be one with her, to merge, to consume and soothe my aching soul, find myself again out of the misery I’ve been experiencing. It’s as if I’m lost in the middle of the cold Pacific during a middle of a typhoon, and she’s the only thing that promises survival and life; my lifeline. She places her arms on my upper arms, and I groan...loud, and she squeezes tightly.

“I want you now. Here... fast and hard,” I breathe, and my hand slide to her thighs pushing up her skirt. It’s my own universe. The only coping mechanism, the only way I find relief with the only woman everyone else who says I’m in love with. But, right now, I don’t care what they say. I have emotions that I’ve never experienced before when it comes to Anastasia. (←Lets Make it a Night to Remember by Bryan Adams)

“Are you still bleeding?” I ask.

“No,” she replies as she blushes.

“Good,” I say.

My thumbs hook over her white cotton panties, and I abruptly drop to my knees to Anastasia’s surprise and tug them off. Her skirt is just rucked up and she’s naked from waist down. She starts panting in anticipating, wanting, desirous for me. My breath is caught at her response. I grab her hips, pushing her against the wall again as I kiss her at the apex of her thighs. I grab her upper thighs and I force her legs apart. She moans loudly as I circle my tongue on her clitoris. Her body arches and her head tips back in response to my ministrations on her sex. Her moans grow louder in rising pleasure, and her fingers find their way into my hair tugging hard.

I pour all my desire, all my pent up frustration, all the anxiety my separation caused in the last day, and the relentless problems I was dished out into my love making with the only woman of my heart’s desire. As my tongue swirls round and round relentlessly, strong and insistent, constantly laving her over and over again, my anxiety leaves me for finally having to be with my girl. I know the feeling of ecstasy my mouth on her sex is providing is intense. I feel her body quicken, and that’s when I release her. I don’t want her to come under my tongue, but with the invasion of my ever growing length. Her breathing is ragged as she’s panting, and gazing at me in protest for not finding a release that came but never materialized. I don’t want the quick release. I want to drag this on. I quickly rise up to my feet and grab her face with both hands, holding my girl firmly and kiss her hard thrusting my tongue in her mouth invading her there, finding hers in a bid to make her taste her own arousal for me letting all her senses know that she too desires me in every way possible.

I then unzip my fly freeing my manhood and grab the backs of her thighs and lift her.

“Wrap your legs around me baby,” I command her in an urgent, strained, and I-want-to-fuck-you-now voice. She immediately does what she’s told, and I move quickly and sharply, filling her expectant sex. When our most desired connection is established making me groan, and gasp, I hold her behind, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, I begin to move slowly at first trying to get a feel of her, let my brain know that I’m in her with the initial feel. Then I pick up a steady even tempo, but as I lose myself in my woman, I speed up faster and faster. She tips her head back as her legs wrapped around, her arms holding my neck and my manhood is uniting with her sex in a fast and rapturous tango, I push both of us higher and higher in pleasure in an invading, pushing, punishing heavenly sensation. We climb higher and higher as neither of us can climb anymore reaching our peak, we spiral into an intense, an all-consuming orgasm. I let go with a deep growl, and bury my head into her neck as I busy my length in her sex deep one last time, I groan loudly and incoherently as I find my own release.

My own breathing is erratic, but I kiss her tenderly without breaking our connection, creating another connection point. If it was possible to merge with my girl, I’d do that right now. She blinks also lost in sensation and desire. I finally manage to pull out of her, and hold her steady as I gently place her on her feet on the floor. The shower has been running and the hot water created steam, covering up the mirrors creating a cloud in the bathroom.

“You seem pleased to see me,” she murmurs with her shy smile I love so much. My lips quirk up at her brand of underestimation.

“Yes, Miss Steele,” I say, “I think my pleasure in seeing you is pretty self-evident. Come... Let me get you in the shower.”

I undo the buttons on my shirt, removing the cufflinks, and tug it off over my head, and just toss it on the floor. I remove my suit pants and boxers, and also kick them to one side careless. I never break my gaze off Anastasia. I start undoing the buttons of her blouse as she is watching me intently with some unnamed desire in her eyes-deep and consuming.

“How was your trip back?” I ask mildly as the sex calmed me down and my apprehension leaving me. She’s my universal panacea to most every problem I have.

“Fine, thank you,” she murmurs still trying to catch her breath.

“Thank you once again for upgrading me to first class. It really is a much nicer way to travel,” she says smiling shyly at me. “I have some news,” she adds nervously.

Oh, oh... What could it be? Is it bad that she feels nervous telling me about it?

“Oh?” is my contained response. I look down at her curiously as I undo the last button on her blouse and slip it down her arms, and throw it on top of the discarded clothes.

“I have a job,” she says.

I still with reprieve; it’s not something as bad as I expected. As relief floods and washes over me I smile at her with warm and soft eyes.

“Congratulations, Miss Steele. Now will you tell me where?” I tease her.

“You don’t know?” she asks. I shake my head and frown. Why would she think I know where she got the job?

“Why would I know?” I ask probing.

“With your stalking capabilities, I thought you might have...” she trails off when she sees the expression my face as unexpected disappointment and hurt passes through my face.

“Anastasia, I wouldn’t dream of interfering in your career, unless you ask me to of course,” I say, truly wounded that she would think so little of me.

“So, you have no idea which company?” she asks.

“No. I know that there are four publishing companies in Seattle,” I say. That much I’ve researched when she told me she was going to interview with two publishing companies. “So, I’m assuming it’s one of them.”

“SIP,” she blurts out excitedly.

“Oh, the small one, good. Well done,” I say leaning forward, kissing her forehead. “Clever girl. When do you start?” I ask.

“Monday,” she responds.

“That soon, eh? I’d better take advantage of you while I still can. Turn around,” I command. (←All I Want is You by U2) She does as she’s commanded. I undo her bra and unzip her skirt. I push her skirt down and cup her amazingly round and rosy derrière, and simultaneously kiss her shoulder. I lean against her nuzzling my nose against her hair. I inhale her scent deeply as her smell is incredibly intoxicating, taking me to a different plane. I squeeze her buttocks that are two round orbs.

“You intoxicate me Miss Steele, and you calm me. It’s such a heady combination,” I mutter between the kisses I place on her hair. I grab her hand tug her into the shower.

“Ow,” she squeals as the scalding hot water hit her skin. I grin down at her as the water cascades and run down from my body.

“It’s only a little hot water Anastasia,” I tease her.

“Turn around,” I order, and she complies without a word. She turns and faces the wall. “I want to wash you,” I say with intense desire to touch her all over with the lather sliding between my hands and her curves. I reach for the body wash, squirting a little into my hand.

“I have something else to tell you,” she murmurs, as my hands start on her shoulders. I feel her entire body tense with this one sentence. What could be worrying her? Is it something bad? Is she leaving me? Has she reached a decision in Georgia against us? With her reaction, I tense as well, but, I want to hear her out.

With barely contained anxiety, I say, “Oh, yes?” I ask in a mild tone.

“My friend Jose’s photography show is opening Thursday in Portland,” she starts her sentence, enunciating the word ‘friend’. My mind goes to the fucking photographer who has had eyes and tongue on my woman the second after I met her. The mention of his name stills my hands on her breasts automatically. She steels herself with a deep breath.

“Yes, what about it?” I ask sternly not liking the idea of that fucker entering in the shower even in a conversation when the two of us are naked and intimate.

“I said I would go. Do you want to come with me?” she asks. The last thing I want to do is to put my girl in the touching distance of that fucker. But it appears that she has made up her mind to go. If I say no, she’d go alone even if I were to prohibit her knowing how disobedient she can be, and that’d be worse, and I’d be eating myself up the whole time. If, however I’m there, I can control the situation.  I reluctantly make up my mind telling myself ‘compromise Grey, compromise. That’s what she needs.’ She doesn’t even know what lengths I would go to be with her, to keep her safe, to keep her mine, and mine alone.

I start washing her again finally after making up my mind to acquiesce.

“What time?” I ask.

“The opening is at 7:30 p.m.” she responds.

I kiss her ear.

“Okay,” I say softly. With this one word response, all the tension leaves her body as she almost sags into my hands.

“Were you nervous about asking me?” I question her.

“Yes. How can you tell?”

“Your entire body just relaxed Anastasia,” I tell her dryly.

“Well, you just seem to be, uhmm... on the bit of a jealous side,” she puts it mildly. You have no idea darling!

“Yes, I am,” I say darkly. “And you’d do well to remember that. But thank you for asking. We’ll take Charlie Tango,” I say being in control again.

“Can I wash you?” she asks. Although I want her to touch me badly, I can’t bear to have hands on me...not yet.

“I don’t think so,” I murmur, and her face falls in hurt and disappointment. I kiss her gently on her neck trying to ease the refusal, letting her know that I still want her. I caress her back with the soap.

“Will you ever let me touch you? She asks longing. I am not ready to answer that question yet. I still, and avoid the question while my hands are still on her behind.

“Put your hands on the wall Anastasia. I’m going to take you again,” I murmur in her ear as I grab her hips, and the discussion is effectively over as we’re both lost to our ecstasy.

Once we’re out of the shower, I wrap a warmed up fluffy towel around my waist, and I quickly grab another one and dry Anastasia. We’re soon dressed in bathrobes and out in the kitchen seated at the breakfast bar. Mrs. Jones has fixed an excellent pasta alle vongole.

Holding up the bottle of Sancerre I ask Anastasia, “more wine?” as my eyes glowing with so many different emotions.

“A small glass please,” she replies.

She finally gathers the courage to ask me the question that’s been bothering her for some time.

“How’s the, uhmmm... the situation that brought you to Seattle?” she asks tentatively making me frown. I don’t want to remember Leila’s attempted suicide, especially when she’s still missing, creating a possible danger to herself, and possibly to others.

“Out of hand,” I murmur without being able to avoid the bitterness in my tone. “But it’s nothing for you to worry about Anastasia. I have plans for you this evening,” I say effectively distracting her.

“Oh?” is her questioning response.

“Yes. I want you ready and waiting in my playroom in fifteen minutes,” I say standing up and gazing down at her.

“You can get ready in your room. By the way, your walk-in closet is now full of clothes for you. I don’t want any arguments about it,” I say narrowing my eyes with the intensity that’s been brought up with our current discussion, daring her to refuse. By all means, argue with me, and soothe my twitching palms. She says nothing, and looks back impassively. Good! I walk back to my study.

I find my iPod and my iPod radio transmitter and the remote for it. I go to my room, and in my closet I locate my soft, over washed ripped jeans that I only use in my Play Room. I divest myself of all clothing except my jeans. I leave the top button undone. I slowly make my way to the Play Room. I want Anastasia to anticipate; the more she waits, the more she anticipates. When I come to the heavy door of my Play Room, I quickly open it, and close it after I get in. I breeze through the room, and completely ignore Anastasia who is sitting in her panties in the submissive position. I make my way to the chest by the door and place the iPod and the transmitter on it. Then I stroll toward the bed. The scene I have planned for Anastasia today requires me to cuff her hands and feet. I check the cuffs on the bedposts. Then I stroll back to the chest of drawers. I open one of them and take out a fur glove, a flogger with leather strands and beads at their ends, placing them on the top.

I finally walk back to Anastasia and stand before her. Her head bowed, sitting on her heels, her hand placed on her laps fingers spread wide, her hair falling in cascades, only in her panties. She’s a sight to behold, and beyond beautiful and arousing.

“You look lovely,” I breathe. She keeps her head down as I stare at her  intently. A lovely flush slowly creeps up on her face which usually happens when she’s embarrassed, feeling my gaze on her. How often will I tell her that she’s beautiful? She should not be embarrassed of her own beauty. I bend down and cup her chin forcing her face up to meet my intent gaze, willing her to believe.

“You are one beautiful woman, Anastasia,” I say fervently. “And you are all mine,” I murmur as relief floods with the knowledge that this is my woman, and that she’s back here, with me, trying to please me.

“Stand up,” I command softly. As I gaze at the beauty before me, I realize my voice is full of sensual promise.

She shakily gets up to her feet.

“Look at me,” I breathe, and she finally raises her blue eyes into my smoldering gray gaze. I look at her as her Dom, as her master I am in this room, and I know that my stare is cold, hard, I will-do-as-I-wish-with-you-here sinful gaze and her responding stare is sexy, expectant and wanting. Her mouth slightly opens as shallow gasps fill her lung, and her tongue travels out for a second in a bid to wet her dry mouth. An almost cruel smile plays on my lips as I know what she wants. And what she wants is me and what I will do to her.

“We don’t have a signed contract Anastasia. But, you know we’ve discussed limits. I want to reiterate we have safewords, okay?”

Her gaze changes one of excitement, and fear.

“What are they?” I ask her with authority.

She frowns slightly at my question, and her hesitation makes my face harden. She needs to know and be able to use the safewords should she need it.

“What are the safewords, Anastasia?” I ask slowly and deliberately.

“Yellow,” she mumbles first.

“And?” I prompt as my mouth sets in a hard line. We have more than one safeword.

“Red,” she breathes after my prompt.

“Remember those,” I warn. Then she raises her eyebrows in her smarting expression, and that is not allowed in my Play Room. But my glare changes to one of a frosty and an icy glint, and she stops in her tracks, and her smarting expression seizes, effectively stopping her in her tracks.

“Don’t start with your smart mouth in here, Miss Steele. Or I will fuck it with you on your knees. Do you understand?” I ask her firmly.

She swallows hard, and blinks rapidly, after being effectively chastened. The tone of my voice and the threat it promises changes her demeanor to one of obedient. (←Here I am Baby by UB40)

“Well?” I prompt.

“Yes, sir,” she mumbles hastily.

“Good girl,” I say, pausing and staring at her.

“My intention is not that you should safeword because you’re in pain. What I intend to do to you will be intense. Very intense, and you have to guide me. Do you understand?” I ask.

Her eyes widen, bewildered.

“This is about touch Anastasia. You won’t be able to hear me, or see me. Buy you’ll be able to feel me.” I say. She frowns. I turn to face the music center. I wave my hand in front, and the housing containing the stereo splits open in half. As the two doors slide open, they reveal the CD player and the complicated stereo system. I set it up to receive transmission from the radio transmitter I will use linking the iPod to the stereo and the surround sound, and I put the song I intend to play on repeat. Anastasia however will only hear it through the earbuds I’ll be putting on her ears to eliminate any other noise she can hear intensifying the sensation. I see her mystified look from my peripheral vision. I turn back to face her again, and I have my I-have-a-secret smile on my face.

“I’m going to tie you to the bed, Anastasia. But I’m going to blindfold you first and,” I say revealing the iPod in my hand, “you won’t be able to hear me. All you will hear is the music I’m going to play for you.”

She’s surprised as usual, and that’s an expression I love on her.

“Come,” I say taking her head leading her to the four poster bed. She sees the shackles I’ve attached to each corner, with fine metal and leather cuffs which glint against the red sating covering the antique bed.

She looks aroused and excited. Good! This is a combination I like a lot on her.

“Stand here,” I say leaving her facing the bed. I lean down and whisper in her ear.

“Wait here. Keep your eyes on the bed. Picture yourself lying here bound and totally at my mercy.” Her breath hitches at the thought. I fetch the flog I chose to use, and the furry glove. I quickly make my way back to her, and I’m immediately behind her. I take her hair, and pull it into a ponytail, and start braiding it after separating it into three strands.

“While I like your pigtails, Anastasia, but I am too impatient to be at you right now. So one will have to do,” I say in a low soft voice.

As I braid her hair, my fingers occasionally work their way down her hair skimming her back. Each touch brings an electric jolt to my body as our connection establishes. I fasten the end of her hair with a tie, and tug at the braid forcing her to step back flushing against me. I pull again this time to the side, so that she angles her head to the side, giving me easier access to her neck.

I lean down and nuzzle her neck, tracing my teeth and tongue from the base of her ear to her shoulder. I hum softly as I do, and she closes her eyes in pleasure and I know it is coursing through her body because she shudders, and groans quietly.

“Hush now,” I breathe against her skin. I hold up my hands in front of her as my arms are touching hers. I show her the flogger that’s in my right hand.

“Touch it,” I whisper devilishly, wanting her to know what I intend to do. Heat courses through her body as I feel the change from our connected bodies. She reaches out tentatively, and brushes the long strands with her fingers. She feels the soft suede fronds with small beads at the end.

“I will use this. It will not hurt but it will bring your blood to the surface of your skin and make you very sensitive.”

“What are the safe words, Anastasia?”

“Uhm… Yellow and red, Sir,” she whispers.

“Good girl. Remember, most of your fear is in your mind.”

I drop the flogger on the bed, and my hands move to her waist.

“You won’t be needing these,” I murmur as I hook my fingers into her panties and sweep them down divesting her of them. She unsteadily steps out of them as she supports herself on the bed post.

“Stand still,” I order, and kiss her behind and gently nip both her cheeks which tense her body.

“Now lie down. Face up,” I say smacking her hard on the behind and making her jump.

She quickly crawls onto the bed’s mattress, and lie down looking up at me. My gaze is impassive giving nothing away. My eyes are glowing with barely leashed excitement.

“Hands above your head,” I order, and she does as she’s asked.

I turn and go back to the chest of drawers, and return with the iPod and eye mask. She has a look of anticipation on her face. I sit on the edge of the bed and show her the iPod. The iPod has an antenna along with the headphones which transmits what is being played to the stereo which in returns played around the surround sound. She looks confused, trying to decipher its function.

“This transmits what’s playing on the iPod to the system in the room,” I answer her quizzical stare tapping the small antenna.

“I can hear what you are hearing, and I have a remote control unit for it,” I say smirking. In fact I have a remote control to her libido as she has one for mine. I lean across her and insert the ear buds gently into her ears, and put the iPod down away from accidental touch above her head.

“Lift your head,” I command and she obeys immediately. I slowly slide the mask on, pulling the elastic over the back of her head, and she’s now devoid of sense of sight. Since I haven’t turned the music on, she can still hear me, though muffled because the earbuds act as earplugs. I rise from the bed. I take her left arm, gently stretch it to the left corner of the bed and cuff her wrist with the leather cuffs. She looks simply delicious like this, completely at my beckoning. I stroke the length of her arm once I finish cuffing her wrist. I move to the other side and taking her right arm, cuff her right wrist. I run my fingers over her arm again feeling the exquisite connection between us. She’s brimming with erotic excitement.

I then move to the bottom of the bed, and grab both of her ankles.

“Lift your head again,” I order.

She complies immediately, and I drag her down the bed stretching her out, nearly strained at the cuffs. This way, she won’t be able to move her arms. Expectation and brimming exhilaration makes Anastasia groan. I part her legs; first I cuff her right ankle and then her left stretching her spread-eagled, completely sexy to do as I wish with her. The fact that she gives me the authority to do this, and that she trusts me is extremely arousing. I look at my handiwork. Knowing that she’s my woman and she’s extremely sexy is both breathtaking and mouthwatering. I turn the iPod on. I have always wanted to fuck to Spem In Alium, or the Forty Part Motet, by Thomas Tallis. (←Spem In Alium by Thomas Tallis)  A celestial choir is singing this piece, and it’s a very soothing. The song itself means “Hope in any other” and it is oddly appropriate for me and Anastasia, because she gives me hope. It is such a song that it occupies the mind, and disarming and the listener won’t be able to think anything else; in this case it will give Anastasia a sensory overload. And for what I have in mind for her, I want her to experience this with all her senses, and every sense overloaded.

I put the fur glove on my right hand. Slowly and leisurely I start soft brushes against her neck, running languidly down her throat, across her chest at a slow pace, over her breasts, caressing her making her hyper aware of her body. I start pulling on her nipples, elongating them sensually, softly, skimming underneath them.

My hand trails her body, at a leisurely and deliberate pace, down to her belly, circling her navel, then carefully from hip to hip, across her pubic hair, between her legs, along her thighs, down to one leg, and then up from the other. The sensation is making her aware of herself, and it’s not harsher than a soft tickle. I keep my movements in line with the voices in the music.

I move the fur down to her arms, and around her waist, finally completing the circuit going back up to her breast. Her nipples harden under my touch, almost bloom. She starts panting. When I know she’s aroused, I immediately take the fur glove off, and take the flogger into my hand, and let the fronds flow over her skin, following the same path as the fur glove. The music continues and repeats as many angelic voices in the choir rise and fall in a silken, smooth, ethereal tone. The soft suede of the fronds of the flogger continue to travel, and at the right moment when the voices rise, I lift the flogger up and sharply land it on her belly. The unexpected movement makes her cry out:

“Aaagghh!” she yelps; the sound is a result of the surprise the feeling provides, and not from hurt. I hit her again, harder this time.

“Aah!” she cries out again.

I can see that she wants to move under the bites of the flogger, writhing. The arms and legs are firmly held in place within the constraints of the cuffs and shackles. I strike her across her breast this time, and the sudden movement makes her cry out. Each hit draws the blood to the surface, making her body hyper sensitive. I place every blow in perfect counterpoint to the music, combining something heavenly with something dark, pulling, and calling the darker feelings and desires inside her. It’s like a perfect union between me and Anastasia; the light and dark angels. The sensation she’s feeling is completely erotic addressing something unmet in me, making me high and higher getting me to a place of ecstasy. I hit her across her hip, then move in swift blows over her pubic hair, on her thighs, and down to her inner thighs, and back up to her body again…across her hips. I keep going on and on in tone with the music until it stops…once the music starts again, I start raining the bites of the flogger over her body…and she groans and writhes under the fronds. Her breathing becomes wild, but also her body is yearning for more, completely alert and wanting, and desirous. The excitement in me is paramount and I can see that she can barely contain hers. A very carnal moan escapes her lips.

I drop the flogger and the bed moves and shifts as I clamber over her. Once the song starts again, my nose and lips take the place of the flogger. Running down her neck and throat, kissing, sucking as I trail down to her breast, taunting each nipple in turn as my tongue swirling round one as my fingers relentlessly tease and elongate the other… She groans loudly, feeling is high under my touches, and the overwhelming sensation, making her want more, getting lost in my movements.

I move down to her belly. My tongue is circling her navel following my previous path of the fur and the flogger. I’m kissing and sucking and nibbling as I make my way to the south of her body. My tongue finally reaches the grand prize, at the junction of her thighs. She throws her head back and cries out in near orgasm. I know she’s on the brink, but I don’t want her to come under my tongue. I stop for the feeling to subside just a notch. She’s ready to be thoroughly fucked. I quickly divest myself out of the jeans.

I kneel between her legs, and I remove the cuffs from her left ankle. She pulls her leg to the middle of the bed, resting against me. I lean to the opposite ankle, and free it from its confines. My hands travel quickly down both her legs, squeezing and kneading, and letting blood flow in them. I then grasp her hips and lift her off the bed and her back is no longer on the bed. She arches her back, completely resting on her shoulders.

I kneel up between her legs, and in one swift slamming movement I’m inside her making her cry out again. I know that she’s already aroused and close to orgasm, and when she comes to the brink of orgasm I still, and wait till her quiver dies.

“Please!” she wails.

I grip her harder in warning. My fingers are digging into the soft flesh of her behind as she lies panting. She stills after my warning. Very slowly, I start to move again. In and then out, agonizingly slow. The choral piece is sung in rising and falling voices, and when the song picks up pace, so do I, completely controlling my movements, and both of our feelings, utterly in time with the music.

“Please, Christian,” she begs, and it too is my undoing. I lower her back onto the bed in one swift move, and I’m lying on top of her, my hands on the bed beside her breasts as I support my weight, and I thrust into her. As the music reaches its climax so do we, and I fall into an intense orgasm right after Anastasia’s thrusting hard into her three more times after she reaches her climax. I finally still, and then collapse on top of her.

When the quivering feeling subsides, I pull out of her, and the music stops after I press the stop button on the remote. I stretch across her body as I undo the cuff from her right and then the left wrist. She groans as her hands are freed. I gently pull the mask from her eyes, and then remove the ear buds. She blinks and stares up into my gray eyes with her baby blues.

“Hi,” I murmur.

“Hi, yourself,” she breathes shyly back at me. My lips quirks up into a smile, and I lean down and kiss her softly.

“Well done, you,” I whisper.

“Turn over.”

Her eyes go wide as if she’s asking incredulous ‘you still want more?’ kind of stare.

“I’m just going to rub your shoulders.”

“Oh… okay.”

She rolls stiffly onto her front, quite tired. I sit astride her and start massaging her shoulders. She groans loudly in pleasure under my expert hands. I lean down, and kiss her head.

“What was that music?” she mumbles, tired, sleepy and nearly inarticulately.

“It’s called Spem In Alium, or the Forty Part Motet, by Thomas Tallis.”

“It was…” she say pausing looking for the right word, “overwhelming.”

“I’ve always wanted to fuck to it.”

“Not another first, Mr. Grey?”

“Indeed, Miss Steele.”

She groans as I continue to massage her shoulders.

“Well, it’s the first time I’ve fucked to it, too,” she murmurs sleepily.

“Hmm... you and I are giving many firsts to each other,” I state the fact.

“What did I say to you in my sleep, Ch… uhm, Sir?” she corrects herself.

My hands pause in the midst of my ministrations for a moment.

“You said lots of things, Anastasia. You talked about cages, and strawberries… that you wanted more… and that you missed me.” I say leaving out the most important detail.

“Is that all?” she asks with relief in her voice.

I stop the massage and shift to lie next to her; I prop my head on my elbow, frowning. I want her to say it when she is coherent, awake to my face.

“What did you think you’d said?” I ask.

“That I thought you were ugly, conceited, and that you were hopeless in bed.”

I frown even more.

“Well, naturally I am all those things, and now you’ve got me really intrigued. What are you hiding from me, Miss Steele?”

She blinks innocently. Say it, Miss Steele! Please, say it to me…when I’m here with you.

“I’m not hiding anything.

“Anastasia, you’re a hopeless liar,” I say.

“I thought you were going to make me giggle after sex; this isn’t doing it for me.”

My lips quirks up in a smile.

“I can’t tell jokes.”

“Mr. Grey! Something you can’t do?” she grins at me and I grin back at her.

“No, hopeless joke teller,” I say proudly of myself and she starts to giggle.

“I’m a hopeless joke teller, too,” she chimes in.

“That’s such a lovely sound,” I murmur, and then I lean forward and kiss her.

“And you are hiding something, Anastasia. I may have to torture it out of you.”

I stare at her, and I love the way she is giggling, and but I so desire her to tell me that she will stay.

We finally fall asleep, gazing at each other, and I’m holding her in my Play Room.  Completely oblivious to the world and the problems it’s giving me. Just me and my Anastasia. In this state of complete peace, on top of the world in the midst of the chaos and the storms of my fuckedup  life experiencing this momentary tranquality; just my girl and I, in bed together. Problems are waiting just outside the door; but right now, at this moment in time, I care for nothing, think of no one, except Anastasia. (←I'm on Top of the World by The Carpenters)

 One more chapter, and we'll be at the sad ending. But, I won't be able to post it until Friday (I have to work on it still). I might however be able to post the survey for you to choose the actor who should play Christian, and post their images and a short bio that were sent to me by all of you guys. If you have more candidates and/or their images, now would be the time to send me to eminethe1st@gmail.com