CHAPTER XXVI ← Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

SWEET REUNION

CHAPTER XXVI

As soon as Anastasia’s manners take over, she introduces me to her mother.

“Christian, this is my mother Carla,” she says. I recognize her from the background check I've had conducted. I extend my hand and greet Anastasia’s mother. My eyes still on Anastasia. Show me something baby...something besides being mad. Meet me halfway please... (←Meet me on the Equinox by Death Cab for Cutie)

“Mrs. Adams, I am delighted to meet you,” I say smiling at her warmly. I can see where Anastasia got her beautiful eyes along with the shocked expression with a gaping mouth. I don’t intend to take any prisoners. Her mother looks dumbfounded, and speechless which is occasionally displayed by Miss Steele, though there’s also her smart mouth. Currently I don’t know which I like best – maybe both.

She finally utters, “Christian,” and shakes my hand. We smile at each other, and Anastasia narrows her eyes at both us, and then turns to me asking:

“What are you doing here Christian?” She sounds brittle, and my heart falls to my feet as my smile disappears. I thought she wished I was here. My expression is guarded; she’s anxious, nervous, and excited maybe, but I fail to see too much of it with her other emotions passing through her face especially with our earlier bicker on the Blackberry about Elena.

“I came to see you of course,” I say looking at her impassively, carefully guarding my anxiety. “I’m staying at this hotel,” I say by the way of explanation.

“You’re staying here?” she says in a high pitched voice, almost squeaking, completely surprised.

“Well, yesterday you said you wished I was here,” I say pausing, trying to get her reaction. Looking for an approval. I need her to be happy for me being here... to see her. I’ve missed her so much... Did she not miss me? “We aim to please, Miss Steele,” I say quietly, almost sadly, without a trace of humor. I flew clear across the country for her. To see her. To feel her presence. To get a glimpse of her affection...for me... Is it too much to ask? (← Love Me Tender by Elvis Presley)

Her mother Carla is glancing at each of us anxiously trying to decipher the meaning of our cryptic conversation.

“Won’t you join us for a drink Christian?” she asks as she waves for the waiter to take my order. The waiter shows up immediately.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic. Hendricks if you have it and I like cucumber with it please. If you don’t have Hendricks, I’ll have Bombay Sapphire and I prefer lime with Bombay.” Anastasia looks at me gaping but recovers herself and turns to the waiter and says:

“Two more Cosmos please,” then turns and looks at me anxiously.

“Please pull up a chair Christian,” says Anastasia’s mother.

“Thank you Mrs. Adams,” I reply politely and pull a chair and sit beside my woman.

“So, you just happen to be staying in the hotel where we’re drinking?” Anastasia asks trying to keep her voice light by covering her anxiety.

“Or,” I rebuttal, “you just happen to be drinking in the hotel where I’m staying. In fact, I just finished dinner, came in here, and saw you,” I say, looking at her intently, trying to get a glimpse of welcome. “I was distracted thinking about your most recent e-mail, and I glance up and there you are. Quite a coincidence, eh?” I say cocking my head to one side with a small smile. I wanted to surprise her, but as ever, she surprised me by being here.

“Oh,” she says. “My mother and I were shopping this morning and we went to the beach this afternoon. We decided to have a few cocktails this evening,” she mutters telling me about her day’s activities.

I notice the new green silk camisole she’s wearing which looks lovely on her.

“Did you buy that top?” I ask nodding at her new camisole. “The color suits you,” I say also noticing the tan she has on her beautiful skin. “And you’ve caught some sun. You look lovely,” I say with longing to my woman. I am close enough to touch, and yet so far away. She flushes, and for once, she’s rendered speechless.

“Well, I was going to pay you a visit tomorrow. But here you are,” I say finally unable to resist her proximity and I reach over to my woman taking her hand, I squeeze it gently running my thumb across her knuckles to and fro. The connection of our hands provides our usual jolt of electricity, the current that’s zapping between us. I haven’t laid eyes on her for nearly three days, and I’ve been missing her terribly. There’s nothing in my mind but to hold and love her, and right now, my body is heating, my desire is exploding and I want her to want me, too. Her breath hitches at our connection, and I think she’s feeling the electricity too. She blinks at me, and then smiles with her ever shy smile making me relax, and a smile plays on my lips as well.

“I thought I’d surprise you, but as ever Anastasia, you surprise me by being here.”

Anastasia anxiously turns to her mother who is glaring at me with scrutiny, wonder, amazement, questioning... Anastasia stares at her back with a silent conversation. But she doesn’t seem to decipher what Anastasia is trying to convey to her. I don’t want to make Anastasia uncomfortable, and I now feel I’m intruding her time with her mother. Though I’m beyond happy to see her, I might have to leave back to Seattle if she doesn’t want me here.

“I don’t want to interrupt the time you have with your mother. I’ll have a quick drink and then retire. I have work to do,” I say earnestly. Anastasia’s mother interjects immediately.  

“Christian, it’s lovely to meet you finally. Ana has spoken very fondly of you,” she gushes. This revelation makes me very giddy suddenly. So, she does have feelings for me. I smile at Carla.

“Really?” I ask raising an eyebrow at Anastasia with an amused expression with the knowledge that she is fond of me. She flushes crimson.

The waiter arrives with all the drinks proudly announcing that he had Hendricks. I thank him in response politely. Anastasia sips her Cosmo nervously.

“How long are you in Georgia, Christian?” Anastasia’s mother asks.

“Until Friday Mrs. Adams,” I respond. I was hoping to return with my woman in tow. I can’t do too much separation from her. I’m at my limit.

“Will you have dinner with us tomorrow evening then? And please, call me Carla.” Her invitation delights me. It will give me a chance to get to know her family. In a way, I want to be invited into her life, introduced to her family as her boyfriend like I introduced her. It’s important to me; I want to show her relations that I’m the man she chose to be in her life, to be her boyfriend; in short, I want her acceptance, her approval as the main man – the only man in her life.

“I’d be delighted, Carla,” I respond with genuine pleasure.

“Excellent! If you two will excuse me, I need to visit the powder room,” she says by the way of giving us some privacy. As soon as she leaves the table, I turn to Anastasia.

“So, you’re mad at me for having dinner with an old friend,” I ask with burning eyes, but wary of her reaction. I lift her hand to my lips and kiss each knuckle gently. I want her, and I desire no one else, but her. How could she doubt that?

“Yes,” she responds with desire in her eyes, but still angry. The look she pulls is so damn hot.

“Anastasia, our sexual relationship was over a long time ago,” I whisper. “I don’t want anyone else but you. Haven’t you worked that out yet baby?” I gaze at her with intensity willing her to understand. She blinks at me.

“I think of her as a child molester Christian,” she says making me blanche. I don’t think of Elena that way.

“That’s very judgmental. It wasn’t like that,” I whisper completely shocked by her candor, automatically releasing her hand.

“Oh?” she asks noticing my reaction. She fills all kinds of anger into that one simple word. “How was it then Christian?” she probes. I frown at her completely bewildered. For one thing, no one ever chastised me in a long time, except maybe for my mother on rare occasion, or Dr. Flynn whom I pay to probe me honestly. But this coming from Anastasia both incredibly hot, and exasperating.

“She took advantage of a vulnerable fifteen year old by. If you had been a fifteen year old girl, and Mrs. Robinson was a Mr. Robinson, tempting you into a BDSM lifestyle, would that have been okay? What if it was Mia?”

The thought is unwelcome making me gasp, and I scowl at Anastasia.

“Ana, it wasn’t like that at all,” I say. She glares back at me.

“Okay, it didn’t feel like that to me,” I say quietly. Because I was already fucked up going down to hell in a hand basket. What Elena introduced me may be bad for a normal adolescent, but I was on my way to personal destruction. Perhaps in the way of becoming what my birth mother had been. “She was a force for good. What I needed,” I say explaining in as few sentences as possible before her mother returns.

“I don’t understand,” she says bewildered. How could she? She doesn’t have a fucked up past for which I’m thankful, because, honestly I don’t think I could have handled it.

“Anastasia, your mother will be back shortly. I’m not comfortable talking about this now. Later maybe. If you don’t want me here, I have a plane on standby at Hilton Head. I can go,” I say. I can leave if I’m not wanted here. Maybe I made a mistake by coming here. Maybe she hasn’t missed me. Maybe she’s running away from me, really running away. The thought is unwelcome, but I have to be realistic.

“No!” she gushes. “Don’t go. I don’t want you to go,” she says with genuine sincerity making relief flood through me. “Please... I’m thrilled you’re here. I’m just trying to make you understand. I’m angry that as soon as I left, you had dinner with her. Think about how you are when I get anywhere near Jose. Jose is a good friend. I have never had a sexual relationship with him. Whereas you and her...” she says unable to complete her sentence, she trails off.

It’s as if a light bulb flashes in my head. Of course! How could I be so stupid? She’s jealous! She’s jealous of Elena, of what we had. And this pleases me immensely. She’s such a green eyed goddess! I love it!

“You’re jealous?” I ask, staring at her dumbfounded, and my eyes finally soften and warm.

“Yes,” she replies confirming my suspicion. “And angry about what she did to you.”

“Anastasia, she helped me. That’s all I’ll say about that. And as for your jealousy, put yourself in my shoes. I haven’t had to justify my actions to anyone in the last seven years. Not one person. I do as I wish Anastasia. I like my autonomy. I didn’t go and see Mrs. Robinson to upset you. I went because every now and then we have dinner. She’s a friend and a business partner,” I say. Oh shit! This revelation makes her eyes go wide. I warily assess her expression. The information is unwelcome.

“Yes, we’re business partners. The sex is over between us. It has been for years,” I tell her.

“Why did your relationship finish?” she asks. This is a long story, and a bitter one. My mouth narrows in exasperation as my eyes gleam with rising anxiety.

“Her husband found out,” I say truthfully. She is shocked. I can see a myriad of emotions crossing her face.

“Can we talk about this some other time, somewhere more private? I growl.

“I don’t think you’ll ever convince me that she’s not some kind of pedophile,” she responds petulantly.

“I don’t think of her that way. I never have. Now that’s enough!” I snap. Elena loved me in her own way, and she really was a force of good for me saving me from myself, from my destructive ways, and she cared for me in a way I couldn’t.  I don’t want to hear her being put down here. Anastasia doesn’t understand it. How could she? She’s not been in my shoes.

“Did you love her?” she asks through gritted teeth, beyond angry.

“How are you two getting on?” asks Anastasia’s mother having returned. Shit! She’s returned, and we didn’t even realize she got back with the intensity of our heated argument. Anastasia dons a fake smile on her face and we hastily lean back in our seats, both looking guilty of something. Carla looks at Anastasia questioning.

“Fine, Mom,” she answers.

I sip my drink watching Anastasia closely as we have left our discussion on a sour note. My expression is guarded, and I don’t want to leave her like that, but we don’t have privacy right now. Maybe we can sort this out tomorrow...if she still wants me that is. Anastasia looks weary, upset.

“Well ladies, I shall leave you to your evening,” I say getting up to leave, still longing for Anastasia.  (← When Will I See You Again by The Three Degrees)

“Please put these drinks on my tab, room number 612,” I say just in case she wants to come and visit me. A man can hope... and I hope she does come...tonight. “I’ll call on you in the morning Anastasia. Until tomorrow Carla.” I say.

“Oh, it’s so nice to hear someone use your full name,” says Carla happily approving.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” I murmur as I shake Carla’s extended hand. Anastasia’s narrows her eyes on her mother as if she’s disapproving her friendly demeanor. I turn and kiss Anastasia’s cheeks chastely.

“Laters baby,” I whisper to her ear.

As I walk back to my suite, I realize how much I missed her, and her reaction to me. Angry, jealous, desirous, shocked, surprised, and something else. Only Anastasia can pack that many emotions into one look. I’m worried that her prejudices about Elena might hinder our relationship, but they shouldn’t. She has nothing to worry about Elena; what we had is old news. She’s just a good friend now; a friend I care about.

I enter into my suite, and get to my laptop. I need to get through a lot of work. My Blackberry buzzes. I am hoping its Anastasia, but I frown when I see that it’s Ros.

“Grey’s here,” I answer.

“Mr. Grey, it’s Ros, sir,” she says.

“What’s up?” I ask curtly.

“Couple of things. I’ve crunched the numbers for the deadbeat company we’re carrying, and our finance department agrees that it will take at least two years for the company to come up to par granted that the economy goes up, and as you know that isn’t happening in a foreseeable future. So, next best option is to liquidate, and we’re going to have to provide redundancy packages,” she says.

There is a knock on my door. I haven’t ordered room service, but maybe it’s Taylor. I open the door, and to my utter shock and surprise, I see Anastasia standing before my door. I blink at her trying to make sure it’s her I’m seeing, then I open the door wide open and beckon her into my room. I go back to my conversation on the phone with Ros while my gaze still on Anastasia.

“So all the redundancy packages concluded?” I ask.

“Yes, as of today, Sir,” she replies.

“And the cost?” I ask.

“The preliminary number is in tens of millions of Dollars, Sir,” she replies in a weak voice. I whistle between my teeth.

“Sheesh... that was one expensive mistake...” I say.

“Indeed sir. We had no way of foreseeing it. It wasn’t as evident that the economy would take a nose dive quite so fast,” she replies.

“And Lucas?” I ask.

“He’s doing the final cost assessments sir,” she responds.

Anastasia is standing in the middle of the suite taking in the ultramodern furnishings in dark purple and gold. I walk over to the minibar, and point to her that she should help herself with a drink. Then I walk into my suite. Since she’s here, I’m hoping she intends to stay.

As I’m discussing the liquidation of a company I own, I go to the bathroom and fill the bathtub while adding bath oil and salt, and letting it lather while lighting candles.

“The other issue I wanted to discuss is the clean energy cell phone we’re developing... The one you had a problem with some of the schematics. The engineers came up with the new schematics...” she says.

“Yes, have Andrea send me the schematics. Barney said he’d cracked the problem...”

After lighting the candles, and filling the bath, I get back to the spacious living room of my suite. Anastasia has helped herself to an orange juice.

“Yes sir. It’s one good news. You could check them over, but you’re out of town. Although, if you were in town, it could have been cracked a lot faster, knowing your effect on the engineering team. You can be quite persuasive,” she says laughing. “Will you be gone for the entire week sir?”

I laugh in response. “No, I’m returning Friday...” I say.

“Great! What took you to Georgia? It’s not exactly a vacation place...”

“There’s a plot of land here that I’m interested in...” I respond.

“I see. As for the numbers we’ve crunched for the liquidation... When would you like to discuss them in detail?” she asks.

“Yeah, about that, get Bill to call me...”

“I’ll have him call you after I hang up,” she responds.

“No, not today, tomorrow,” I say.

“Yes, sir. Do you think Georgia has potential for us?”

“I’ll find out. I just want to see what this state will offer if we decide to move in,” I say to Ros while my eyes are fixated on Anastasia. I hand her a glass and point to the ice bucket.

“I'm curious to see what you find out,” she says.

“If their incentives are attractive enough, I think we should consider moving in, although I’m not quite sure about the damn heat here...” I say.

“What about Detroit? It doesn’t have the same heat, and the state is trying to attract businesses with a large number of qualified and trained employees who are in need of a job. It could be a more attractive place from the business vantage,” she says.

“I agree Detroit has its advantages as well, and it’s much cooler...”

“Bill knows about Detroit much better than I do, and he has a lot more connections there.”

“Yeah, get Bill to call... tomorrow and not too early,” I say.

“Yes, sir,” she says and I hang up.

My gaze is still fixed on Anastasia. I say nothing; just give her a curious stare. She gets my point, and decides to talk.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she murmurs.

“No. I didn’t,” say quietly, as my eyes go wide, and cautious to not to scare her.

“No, you didn’t answer my question, or no you didn’t love her?” she probes more.

For some reason, I love it that she’s jealous. It turns me on. I skirt her question around while trying to suppress my smile as I fold my arms and lean against the wall.

“What are you doing here Anastasia?” I ask.

“I’ve just told you,” she says.

I want to be honest to her at all times, so I take a deep breath and answer her.

“No. I didn’t love her,” I frown at her, both amused and puzzled. The relief that washes over her is evident. She sags like the weight of the world lifted off of her indicating the depth of her feelings for me. God! I just want to take her, right here, right now!

“You are quite the green-eyed goddess Anastasia. Who would have thought?” I say.

“Are you making fun of me Mr. Grey?” she stares at me pointedly with her intense eyes.

“I wouldn’t dare,” I say shaking my head solemnly, but I have a hard time hiding the gleam from my eyes. My heart leaps and says, ‘that’s my woman!’

“Oh, I think you would, and I think you do... often,” she say giving me back my words, making me smirk. When she sees my response, her lips goes between her teeth automatically. My eyes darken with desire for her.

“Please stop biting your lip. You’re in my room, I haven’t set eyes on your for nearly three days, and I’ve flown a long way to see you,” I say in a sensual tone. Does she not realize how much I’ve missed her? I want to constantly be in her, on her, all over her when she’s in my vicinity. Does she not realize how this separation affected me? I’m about to combust here!

My Blackberry buzzes, but right now, I don’t give a fuck if the world is going to hell in a hand basket. I switch it off without checking who the caller is. Her breath hitches with the change in my demeanor, as I don my ‘I want my woman now’ predatory look.

“I want you Anastasia. Now. And you want me. That’s why you’re here,” I state the facts.

“I really did want to know,” she whispers defensively. But I cut to the chase.

“Now that you do, are you coming or going?” (← Be My Baby by Ronettes) I ask my gaze is full of salacious desire for her.

“Coming,” she murmurs, staring at me anxiously.

“Oh, I hope so,” I say closing up the gap between us. I gaze down at her. “You were so mad at me,” I breathe.

“Yes,” she responds.

“I don’t remember anyone but my family ever being mad at me. I like it,” I say with nothing but truth and desire in my voice.

I run my fingertips down her cheek. She inhales my scent, turning me on further. All I can think of is this attraction between us. My body pulls to hers, wanting to merge. Desire pools in my eyes, with my touch... I bend down and run my nose along her shoulder and up to the base of her ear as my fingers slip into her soft hair. She closes her eyes and automatically leans in to my touch. Trying to curb her desire for me.

“We should talk,” she whispers.

“Later,” I respond.

“There’s so much I want to say,” she murmurs.

“Me too.”

I plant a soft kiss under her earlobe as my fingers tighten in her hair. I pull her head back, and expose her throat to my relentless kisses. I skim her chin with my teeth and kiss her throat. My desire is overflowing, and I am unable to contain myself any further.

“I want you,” I breathe making her moan, and she reaches up and grasps my arms. She should be on her period now given her timeline which means I don’t have to wear a condom.

“Are you bleeding?” I ask as I continue to kiss her. She turns crimson with embarrassment.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Do you have cramps?” I ask. Baby, if you don’t, there is nothing that could stop me from having you here!

“No,” she answers barely audible, flushing even further.

I stop and look down at her.

“Did you take your pill?”

“Yes,” she says. She’s ready to hide in a hole in the ground if that was at all possible. She’s completely mortified, but I want her to be comfortable around me in every way possible. Without any barriers.

“Then let’s go and have a bath,” I say pulling her by the hand and leading her into the bedroom. She barely glances around the large king size bed, but I pull her into the bathroom which is sporting aquamarine and white limestone making an elegant statement which I could give a fuck at the moment... There is a sunken bath that is quite large. Steam is rising above the foam. She glances at the flickering candles I lighted earlier.

“Do you have a hair tie?” I ask her. She blinks at me, but fishes into her jeans’ pocket and pulls out a hair scunci.

“Put your hair up,” I order her softly. She does as she’s asked breathing anxiously.

The bath has filled up already, and I turn the faucet off. I lead her back to the first part of the bathroom and stand behind her as we face the wall size mirror above the elegant glass sinks.

“Lift your arms up,” I breathe into her ear. She does as she’s told, and I lift her silk green camisole over her head, and she stands before me topless. My eyes haven’t left hers for a second. I reach and undo the top button of her jeans, and zip it down.

“I’m going to have you in the bathroom Anastasia,” I breathe.

I lean down and kiss her neck. She tilts her head to one side allowing me more access to her flesh. I hook my thumbs into her jeans, and slowly and sensually slide them down. I sink down behind her and pull them and her panties to the floor.

“Step out of your jeans.”

She does as she’s told while holding onto the edge of the sink. She’s standing before me, before the mirror naked. She stares at herself her eyes wide as I’m kneeled behind her. I kiss and then softly bite her behind; she gasps with pleasure. I stand and stare at her in the mirror. She’s shy of her look, and somehow she tries to cover herself and avoid looking at herself in the mirror. I don’t want her to think that she’s unsightly, or that she has something to be embarrassed of. She’s barely able to stand still. I splay my hand across her belly, claiming her for myself.

“Look at you. You are so beautiful,” I murmur. “See how you feel,” I say as I clasp both her hands into mine. I put my fingers between hers so that her fingers remain splayed as I place her hands on her belly. I want her to get rid of the insecurities she has about her body. See herself the way I see her. Be confident...

“Feel how soft your skin is,” I say in a soft, low voice. Then I move her hands in a slow circle then move them upwards towards her breast.

“Feel how full your breasts are,” I say with a gasp as I hold her hands cupping her breasts. I gently stroke her nipples with my thumbs over and over again making her moan as her lips part. She arches her back and her breast fill my palms. I squeeze her nipples between our combined thumbs, pulling gently as they elongate further. She groans with pleasure as her eyes remain shut. She’s writhing in front of the mirror, under our hands.

“That’s right baby,” I murmur as I guide her hands down the sides of her body, to her waist, to her hips, and across her sex. I slide my legs between hers as I push her legs apart, widening her stance. I run her hands over her sex at a certain rhythm. I notice this wonton creature before me is my woman.

“Look at you glow Anastasia,” I whisper as I trail kisses and soft bites along her shoulder. She groans, and I let go of her hands and move back.

“Carry on,” I order, watching her in amusement.

She rubs herself but stops, lost, unable to continue, longing for me which fuels my desire for her further. I pull my shirt over my head, and hastily take off my jeans.

“You’d rather I do this?” I say with scorching eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

“Oh yes, please,” she begs.

I wrap my arms around her and take her hands again, and we continue our sensual journey over her sex and clitoris. My erection is on her, and my body is flush with hers. I bite the nape of her neck and she closes her eyes to absorb all the myriad of sensations on her body. I stop abruptly and spin her around as I’m circling her wrists with one hand, and I clasp her hands behind her and with my other hand, I pull her ponytail. We are flush against each other, and I kiss her wildly ravaging her lips, her mouth, her tongue as I hold her in place.

Both of our breathing is ragged.

“When did you start your period Anastasia?” I ask her trying to assess whether I would need a condom or not; and I’m hoping I don’t.

“Uhm... Yesterday,” she mumbles confused.

“Good,” I say, and turn her around.

“Lean down and hold onto the sink baby,” I order and pull her hips back as she’s bending down. I reach down and pull the string of her tampon gently out, and toss it into the toilet. That’s all the patience I have before I can claim my woman, and I am inside her in an instant, skin against skin for the first time. I savor this, and move easily, slowly, pushing her. Then I set out a punishing rhythm. She’s gripping onto the sink, panting, and matching my thrusts with pushes of her own. I lean down and reach around and locate her clitoris massaging it. I feel her getting close to her peak.

“That’s right baby,” I rasp as I grind into her, gyrating my hips, and we reach our ecstasy, our peak together, loud, and I hold and clasp her tightly, and I come as I call onto her like a litany.

“Oh, Ana!” I breathe into her ear, realizing that I can never get enough of her.

“Oh, baby, will I ever get enough of you?” I whisper. She sighs in pleasure.

Together we sink to the floor, and I wrap my arms around her, encasing her in the captivity of my torso and arms. We’re lost in each other.

"I’m bleeding,” she murmurs.

“Doesn’t bother me,” I breathe, but realize that it might bother her.

“I noticed,” she says dryly, and I tense that she may not have liked the idea.

“Did it bother you?” I ask softly.

“No, not at all,” she responds, and I smirk in response.

“Good, let’s have a bath,” I say as I uncurl from around her. As she stares at me from our proximity, her expression changes. What just happened? I’m alarmed at the expression.

“What’s wrong?” I ask with alarm lacing my voice.

“Your scars,” she whispers. Oh shit!

“They’re not from chicken pox,” she says.

I don’t want to recall why I have the scars, or explain how I was abused by my birth mother’s pimp; how he put out his cigarettes on my body. It takes me to an unsteady place, a dark place in my past; a place I don’t want to be in right now. I shut down. That’s the only defense mechanism I have for a past I have no way of controlling or taking charge of. I frown and my face darkens as my mouth presses into a thin hard line.

“No, they’re not,” I snap at her without elaborating further. I stand and hold my hand out for her, and haul her to her feet. Her gaze has something different. Pity, worry, anxiety...

“Don’t look at me like that,” I say in a cold, scolding voice, and I let go of her hand. She flushes, castigated. She looks down at her hands. “Did she do that?” she whispers.

I say nothing because I’m angry. She looks up at me. I glare back at her.

“She? Mrs. Robinson, you mean?” I say shaking my head. Why does she have to think the worst about Elena?

“Anastasia, she’s not an animal! Of course she didn’t do those. I don’t understand why you feel the need to demonize her,” I say exasperated. Both of us are standing in the bathroom, naked, nowhere to go, and anywhere to hide. She finally says nothing, takes a deep breath, and moves past me, then steps into the water. She slowly lowers herself into the bubbles. After what seems like an eternity, she decides to talk.

“I just wonder what you would be like if you hadn’t met her. If she hadn’t introduced you to your...umm, lifestyle,” she whispers.

I vowed to always be honest with her, so I sigh, and step into the bathtub opposite to Anastasia. My jaw is still clenched with nerves, and tension, my eyes are cold. I’m also submerged into the water, and I am so angry, I don’t touch her. After staring at her impassively, I say nothing. But neither does she. We stare each other, neither one willing to back down. I don’t want to fight with her over Elena or anyone. I finally shake my head, and then smirk, and decide that honesty is the best policy.

“I would probably have gone the way of my birth mother had it not been for Mrs. Robinson,” I say. I give the credit where it’s due, though her ways might have been fucked up. Anastasia looks up at me puzzled, questioning.

“She loved me in a way I found...” I rack my brain for the right word. “...acceptable,” I say and shrug.

“Acceptable? How? What do you mean acceptable?” she whispers.

“Yes, acceptable,” I say staring at her fixedly. “She distracted me from the destructive path I found myself following. It’s very hard to grow up in a perfect family when you yourself aren’t perfect,” I say. She tries to digest everything I divulged to her.

“Does she still love you?” she breathes, her gaze wary.

“I don’t think so, not like that,” I say frowning. I don’t want Anastasia to feel insecure because of Elena.

“Anastasia, I keep telling you that it was a very long time ago. It’s in the past. I couldn’t change it even if I wanted to, which I don’t. She saved me from myself,” I say truthfully. “This is a subject I’ve never discussed with anyone,” I say, and then I remember the exception to this rule. “Except of course Dr. Flynn. And the only reason I’m talking to you about this now is because I want you to trust me,” I explain.

“I do trust you, but I want to know you better, and whenever I try to talk to you, you distract me. There’s so much I want to know about you,” she says frustrating me further.

“Oh, for God’s sake Anastasia! What do you want to know? What do I have to do?” I say with frustration my eyes blazing. I’m barely containing my temper. I feel like I’m under the Spanish Inquisition. She worries, and lowers her gaze to her hands.

“I’m just trying to understand you Christian,” she whispers, “You’re such an enigma. Unlike anyone I’ve met before. But, I’m also glad you’re telling me what I want to know.”

I hate us fighting. I love us fighting. It’s such an enigma, refreshing. It gets my blood boiling; it gives me a different kind of energy. But right now, my gaze is wary. She looks up at me, and whispers, “Please don’t be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry with you Anastasia. I’m just not used to this kind of talking, this probing. I only go through this with Dr. Flynn, and with...” I say and stop. I don’t want to mention Elena again who is the main reason of my mood going sour here.

“With her. Mrs. Robinson. You talk to her?” she prompts, barely containing her own temper.

“Yes, I do,” I respond, matching her gaze.

“What about?” she probes further.

I finally shift in the bathtub to face her as water laps over the tub, and onto the floor.

“Persistent, aren’t you?” I murmur, a bit irritated. I sigh. “We talk about life, the universe, business. Anastasia, Mrs. R and I go way back. We can discuss anything.” I say.

“Me?” she whispers.

“Yes,” I say watching her warily.

She bites her bottom lip. She looks angry. “Why do you talk about me?” she asks me petulantly.

“Because I’ve never met anyone like you Anastasia,” I say.

“I don’t know what that means. What does it mean Christian? Anyone who just didn’t automatically sign your paperwork, no questions asked?” she asks.

I shake my head. She’s persistent if anything. “I need advice,” I say softly.

“And you take advice from Mrs. Pedo?” she snaps making me further angry.

“Anastasia, that’s enough!” I snap back with narrowing eyes. “Or, “I’ll put you across my knee. I have no sexual or romantic interest in her whatsoever. She’s a dear, valued friend and a business partner. That’s all. We have a past, a shared history which was monumentally beneficial for me, though it fucked up her marriage. But that side of our relationship has been over a long time ago.”

The information I’ve shared with her widens her eyes. “And your parents never found out?” she asks.

“No,” I growl. How could she be so stupid? “I’ve told you this.” I say barely containing my anger before snapping.

“Are you done?”

“For now,” she says. I take a deep breath, visibly relaxing as if an enormous load has been lifted off my shoulders.

“Right... my turn,” I mutter and glare at her speculatively. “You haven’t responded to my e-mail.” She flushes, and shakes her head.

“I was going to respond, but now you’re here,” she says in such a way making me worry.

“You’d rather I wasn’t?” I breathe with an impassive expression, with a feeling nothing but.

“No, I’m pleased,” she murmurs.

“Good,” I smile with relief. “I’m pleased I’m here too, in spite of your interrogation. So, while its acceptable for you to grill me, you think you can claim some kind of diplomatic immunity just because I’ve flown all this way to see you? I’m not buying it Miss Steele. I want to know how you feel,” I say.

“I told you. I’m pleased you’re here. Thank you for coming all this way,” she says feebly.

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Steele,” I say completely relieved, and lean down and kiss her gently. She responds automatically. But I pull back. If she puts me through the inquisition, I can reciprocate a little in kind.

“No. I think I want some answers first before we do any more,” I say. She sighs, just like I did. Resigned to the inquisition.

“What do you want to know?”  she asks.

“Well, for starters, how do you feel about our would-be arrangement?” She blinks.

“I don’t think I can do it for an extended period of time. A whole weekend being someone I’m not,” she says flushing and stares back down at her hands. I tip her chin up, and smirk at her amused.

“No, I don’t think you could either,” I say. She looks affronted.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asks narrowing her eyes.

“Yes, but in a good way,” I say with a small smile playing on my lips. Then I lean down and kiss her, softly, briefly.

“You’re not a great submissive,” I breathe as I hold her chin up, with humor in my gaze. She stares at me first shocked, then she bursts out laughing, and I start laughing with her.

“Maybe I don’t have a good teacher,” she says making me snort.

“Maybe. But perhaps I should be stricter with you,” I say cocking my head to one side, smiling at her. She swallows visibly. I do care about her. A lot. I have deeper feelings for her. What would she say if she knew the thought of not having her scares the life out of me... I stare at her trying to gauge her reaction.

“Was it that bad when I spanked you? The first time I mean...” She gazes back at me blinking. Takes a deep breath.

“No, not really,” she whispers.

“It’s more the idea of it?” I prompt.

“I suppose. Feeling pleasure, when one isn’t supposed to.”

“I remember feeling the same. Takes a while to get your head around it.” She gazes at me wordlessly.

“You can always safe-word, Anastasia. Don’t forget that. And, as long as you follow the rules, which fulfill a deep need in me for control and to keep you safe, then perhaps we can find a way forward,” I say.

“Why do you need to control me?” she asks.

“Because it satisfies a need in me that wasn’t met in my formative years,” I say.

“So, it’s a form of therapy for you?” she asks trying to get her head around my fucked-uppedness.

“I haven’t thought about it that way, but yes, I suppose it is,” I respond.

“But, here’s the thing Christian... One moment you say ‘don’t defy me,’ the next you say you like to be challenged. That’s a very fine line to tread successfully.” I gaze at her for a moment frowning. She’s been doing a great job so far.

“I can see that. But you seem to be doing fine so far,” I respond.

“But at what personal cost? I’m tied up knots in here,” she says pointing at her heart.

“I like you tied up in knots,” I say smirking.

“That’s not what I meant!” she says forcefully splashing me in exasperation.

I gaze down at her, arching my eye brows. “Did you just splash me?” I ask.

“Yes,” she responds.

“Oh, Miss Steele,” I say grabbing her and pulling her onto my lap as I slosh water all over the floor. “I think we’ve done enough talking for now,” I say as I clasp her hands on either side of her head and kiss her deeply. I take complete possession of her mouth. (← Kiss of Fire by Georgia Gibbs) I angle her head to control her head. She moans against my lips in response. We may fight and argue which is both nerve wrecking and hot, but nothing tops this. We are a complete match when it comes to possessing each other. Her fingers are tangled inside my hair, holding me onto her, and she’s kissing me back with a bigger fervor, and desire making me groan. I shift her, placing her astride me, kneeling over me as my erection towering under her, ready to love her, claim her, fuck her, complete her. I pull back and look at her with hooded eyes, lustful, desirous. She drops her hands to grab onto the edge of the bathtub, but I grab them, not knowing what she would do, pulling them behind her back.

“I’m going to have you now,” I whisper and lift her so that she’s hovering over me. “Ready?” I breathe.

“Yes,” she whispers, and I ease her onto me slowly, entering her, filling her, stretching her, becoming one. I flex my hips and she gasps, leaning forward, resting her forehead against mine.

“Please let my hands go,” she whispers.

“Don’t touch me,” I say pleading as I release her hands, I grab her hips. She clasps the bath ledge, and start moving up and down. Slowly. She opens her eyes and gazes at me. I watch her with my mouth slightly open, my breathing halted, stilted, as I capture my tongue between my teeth in pleasure. We’re in the bathtub, wet, slippery and moving against each other. She leans down and kisses me. I close my eyes in pleasure. Slowly, she brings her hands up to my head and runs her fingers through my hair as she tips my head back and deepens her kiss, riding me, faster, picking up a rhythm. She moans against my mouth. I hold her hips, enjoying this pleasure, kissing her back. We’re full of sensation, I feel I’m reaching my vortex, as our movements become more frantic... we are sloshing everywhere...

“That’s right baby,” I breathe, and she comes with a passionate orgasm, and I reach mine fast and furious, crushing her on top of me, my arms wrapped around her back as I find my release.

“Ana, baby!” I cry out. Her name is an invocation, a litany, a prayer on my lips.

When we get out of the bathtub, we go back to the very large king bed; lie down staring at each other face to face, both hugging pillows. Both naked. Not touching. Just looking and admiring each other covered by the sheet.

“Do you want to sleep?” I ask her in a soft voice. I am concerned. I almost feel like these beautiful, serene, peaceful moments will be stolen from us.

“No. I’m not tired,” she says.

“What do you want to do?” I ask.

“Talk,” she responds. Of course she does. I smile.

“About what?”

“Stuff.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“You,” she replies softly.

“What about me?”

“What’s your favorite movie?” Oh, that I can answer.

“Today, it’s the Piano.” She grins back at me.

“Of course, silly me. Such a sad, exciting piece, which no doubt you can play? So many accomplishments, Mr. Grey.” She mutters.

“And the greatest one is you, Miss Steele,” I say with utter conviction.

“So, I am number seventeen,” she says confusing me.

“Seventeen?”

“Number of women you’ve uhm... had sex with,” she says shyly.

Oh, that! My lips quirk up, my eyes are alight with incredulity.

“Not exactly.” She misunderstood me. I’ve had more than fifteen women.

“You said fifteen,” she says confused.

“I was referring to the number of women in my playroom. I thought that’s what you meant. You didn’t ask me how many women I’d had sex with,” I respond.

“Oh,” she says gaping, her face falls. “Vanilla?” she asks.

“No. You are my one vanilla conquest,” I shake my head, still grinning at her. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you a number. I didn’t put notches on a bedpost or anything,” I respond.

“What are we talking about – tens, hundreds...” she pauses, and her eyes grow wilder. “thousands?”

“Tens. We’re in the tens, for pity’s sake,” I soothe her.

“All submissives?”

“Yes.”

“Stop grinning at me,” she scolds me mildly. I try to keep a straight face, but I miserably fail.

“I can’t. You’re funny.”

“Funny peculiar or funny ha ha?” she asks.

“ A bit of both I think,” I say giving her words back to her.

“That’s a damned cheeky coming from you,” she chides me. I can’t help it, and lean across and kiss the tip of her nose.

“This will shock you Anastasia. Ready?” I say. She nods with wide eyes and with a silly grin.

“All submissives in training, when I was training. There are places in and around Seattle that one can go and practice. Learn to do what I do,” I say. She looks at me shocked.

“Oh,” she gasps.

“Yep, I’ve paid for sex, Anastasia.”

“That’s nothing to be proud of,” she scolds me. “And you’re right... I’m deeply shocked. And cross that I can’t shock you.”

“You wore my underwear,” I say contradicting her.

“Did that shock you?”

“Yes,” I respond honestly.

“You didn’t wear your panties to meet my parents.”

“Did that shock you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it seems to be the only way I can shock you is in the underwear department.”

“You told me you were a virgin. That’s the biggest shock I’ve ever had,” I say proving her wrong.

“Yes, your face was a picture, a Kodak moment,” she says giggling.

“You let me work yo over with a riding crop,” I confess.

“Did that shock you?”

“Yep.” My answer makes her grin.

“Well,” she sighs, “I may let you do it again.”

“Oh, I do hope so, Miss Steele. This weekend?” I question.

“Okay,” she agrees shyly.

“Okay?” I ask shocked once again.

“Yes. I’ll go to the Red Room of Pain again.”

“You say my name.”

“That shocks you?” she asks me surprised.

“The fact that I like it shocks me.”

“Christian,” she says making me grin.

“I want to do something tomorrow,” I announce with excitement.

“What?” she asks.

“A surprise. For you,” I say softly. I want to demonstrate her that I can do ‘more’. She raises an eyebrow and stifles a yawn.

“Am I boring you Miss Steele?” I ask sardonically.

“Never,” she responds.

I lean across and kiss her gently on her lips.

“Sleep baby,” I command softly, and turn off the lights. I’m completely sated, and extremely serene for finally having to go to bed with my woman I’ve been missing for the past three days. (← Heaven by Bryan Adams)