BOOK II - CHAPTER VIII - Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

EXES FROM HELL

CHAPTER VIII

Anastasia is shifting in her seat uncomfortably. (←Undisclosed Desires by Muse)   She crosses her legs, but can’t find the comfort zone, then start shaking her legs in a nervous gesture. I touch her leg to still it. “I don’t think that will alleviate your...need, baby,” I say in a whisper. She stops. I drape my arm around her shoulder, and start rhythmically stoking her back. I will be relentless and make this punishment last as long as possible. Right now my touch is resonating in all the right places of her delectable body, and I can feel it from the way her body stands attention to me. With my free hand, I hold hers and bring it to my lips, kissing it, and l observe another shiver go through her body. Her reaction glistens my eyes, then I slowly lower her hand and let it rest on my lap. I guide her hand furtively and easily up on my leg, and finally let her hand rest against my erection. Let the games begin!

When Anastasia’s hand touches my sizeable erection she gasps and nervously turns her eyes on me, and looks around in panic. Everyone’s only paying attention to what’s on stage. But, to my surprise, she turns my game back on me. I hear her slowly ease her breath out and take a few shallow breaths to calm her nerves. She starts slowly caressing my erection, her fingers trying to get around it over my black pants, feeling every ridge, every pulsating vein. I keep my hand over hers covertly, hiding the ministrations of her fingers. As I enjoy her touch, and immerse myself in this exhibitionist pleasure, my thumb softly glides along the nape of her neck. I feel the pleasure building, and open my mouth to let out a soft gasp to ease, control and prolong the feeling. That’s it! But I can’t hold it longer! My arousal is too much; I have to take her now. I need calm this storm inside me without bursting. (←Everything by Lifehouse)

I’m not paying one bit attention to the auction before us, and I think a week at my parents’ house by Lake Adriana in Montana goes for one hundred ten thousand Dollars. While the room is applauding excitedly, I turn to Anastasia and mouth her over the very loud cheering, “Ready?”

“Yes,” forms her lips.

Out of nowhere, my ever buzz killing sister comes dashing and calls out, “Ana! It’s time!”

You’re damn right it’s time! But not for you!

“Time for what?” Anastasia asks nearly whining.

“The First Dance Auction. Come on!” and she hold her hand out to Anastasia to take her away. Anastasia looks back at me nervously, and I’m openly scowling at Mia, and she has no clue except that she’s ready to auction my girlfriend, and to be auctioned out. My lovely girlfriend who mind-fucked me, donated her twenty-four thousand Dollars, got me hot and bothered, and given me a massive erection finally giggles like a school girl, and gives me an apologetic look, manages to make me smile, just a little.

“The first dance will be with me, okay? And it won’t be on the dance floor,” I lean in and murmur lasciviously into her ear. She takes a sharp intake of breath and her giggles subside which turns into a longing desirous look. (←Be My Lover by La Bouche)

“I look forward to it,” she says leaning over and giving me a soft chaste kiss on my lips, making everyone around gush and look astonished. What the hell! How many of them thought I was gay? I suppose I have to kiss my girlfriend more often in public, although that is not my thing. I would get too jealous even if people were to get a glimpse of her lost in desire. I give Anastasia a wide smile with full realization that everyone knows she’s my woman! I’m elated.

“Come on, Ana,” my sister yanks Anastasia and she is pulled onto the stage where a total of dozen young women are assembling.

“Gentlemen, the highlight of the evening! The moment you have all been waiting for!” booms the MC over the PA system. “These twelve lovely ladies have all agreed to auction their first dance to the highest bidder!”

My eyes are on Anastasia like a hawk. She looks terrified. Does she think that I’d let someone else win the bidding? The other guests on adjacent tables are murmuring about how stunning she looks.

“Now, gentlemen, pray gather round, and take a good look at what could be yours for the first dance. Twelve comely and compliant wenches,” he says. Men who are going to bid stand up and start making their way to the stage area. I too get up and move between the tables, occasionally responding to someone’s greeting. We’re all gathered: the merchandise and the buyers.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” begins the MC. “In the tradition of the masquerade we shall maintain the mystery behind the masks and stick to first names only. First up we have the lovely Jada,” he says.

Jada, a socialite daughter steps forward giggling. Two young men step forward to bid on her.

“Jada speaks fluent Japanese, is a qualified fighter pilot, and an Olympic gymnast...hmm,” says the MC winking. “Gentlemen, what am I to bid?” Of course he’s flourishing and speaking through his ass, but makes good entertainment and that’s money for the charity. The bidding escalates between the two contenders and she’s finally sold for five thousand Dollars.

“Sold! To the gentleman in the mask!” declares the MC. Laughter, cheers, applause and hoots are rising around. My eyes are on Anastasia who is having a heated conversation with my sister in a low voice, on the stage of all places. I wonder what secrets she’s extracting from Mia. It’s extremely important for me to purchase this dance with her; because in a way, I will be showing everyone who she belongs to, what I would do for her, how far my reach can extend where she’s concerned.

Next auctioned young lady is Mariah. I don’t know who she is and neither do I care. I’m impatiently waiting for Anastasia’s turn.

“Gentlemen, may I present the wonderful Mariah. What are we going to do about Mariah? She’s an experienced matador, plays the cello to concert standard, and she’s a champion pole-vaulter... how about that gentlemen? What am to bid please, for a dance with the delightful Mariah?”  

Mariah must be an animal rights activist by the looks she’s given the MC after his ‘matador’ bit. She looked like she could spear him.

“Three thousand Dollars!” shouts a man with blond hair, beard and a baritone voice.

I slowly breathe in and out. I’m about to combust with her on the stage, and it’s taking all my willpower to not to yank her and take her away to relieve this tension. I’m also wondering what family secrets Mia is imparting with and talking to Anastasia animatedly giving her a shocked expression. I strain to hear their conversation, but the MC is shitting something about the girl named Jill who is now being auctioned over the PA system.

Someone pays four thousand Dollars for her first dance, and the girl squeals in delight, and sold!

“And now, allow me to introduce the beautiful Ana,” says the MC and I’m pure attention as if I’ve stepped on live wire. I smirk at her, knowing no one can outbid me. Sometimes, it’s good to be me. My sister Mia sort of shoves my bewildered Anastasia onto the stage.

“Beautiful Ana plays six musical instruments, speaks fluent Mandarin, and is keen on yoga... well, gentlemen –“ says the MC, and I just want him to shut up about my woman.

“Ten thousand Dollars!” I yell my voice resonating. I want this to be over with.

“Fifteen,” another male voice counter bids from my right. It better not be another admirer. But I recognize the voice. He’s been dying to meet Anastasia for so long; I thought he would make this attempt. This could be interesting. I can let it run a bit, and give the people the entertainment they’re craving. I turn around, looking at my worthy opponent, and scratch my chin as if I’m contemplating. He has an ironic smile on his lips waiting for my response. He nods at me politely in greeting.

“Well, gentlemen! We have high rollers in the house this evening,” says the MC as if he’s had the auctioneer’s orgasm. The guests at the tables start babbling, their interest aroused.

“Twenty,” I counter, confidently and quietly, and the loud babbling almost dies immediately as the rapid rise in the amounts.

He walks closer to the stage as if he’s going to claim his prize and to challenge me further. But, I know what’s behind his attitude. He wants to see my reaction firsthand. See how far I would go.

“Twenty-five,” he says to the MC and the crowd, looking at me for the counter. I stare at him impassively, completely amused. It’s just like one of our sessions.

“One hundred thousand Dollars,” I say in a clear voice that is above everyone else’s and resonating through the marquee.

“What the fuck?” I hear Lily’s audible and involuntary protest. 100K is nothing Lily! What I would do, what I would pay to have her to only be mine. She’s only mine. (←Possession by Sarah Mclachlan) John Flynn finally holds his hands up in defeat, laughing and finally confirming something he has been hypothesizing all along. I’m sure he’ll discuss it with me during our next session. I grin at him triumphantly. My sister is bouncing up and down like a six year old.

“One-hundred thousand Dollars for the lovely Ana! Going once... going twice...” says the MC staring at Dr. Flynn who shakes his head in mock regret and bows chivalrously like the English gentleman he is.

“Sold!” MC cries out, and we get the biggest applause the auction has ever seen. I step forward and take Anastasia’s hand and take her down from the stage. I’m the winner and I aim to claim my prize. I kiss the back of her hand before tucking it into the crook of my arms, and lead her out of the marquee.

“Who was that?” asks Anastasia curiously.

“Someone you can meet later,” I say gazing down at her. “Right now, I want to show you something. We have about thirty minutes until the First Dance Auction finishes. Then we have to be back on the dance floor so that I can enjoy that dance I’ve paid for.”

“A very expensive dance,” she mutters disapprovingly. But, baby, I wouldn’t let anyone else win that bid no matter what it cost me.

“Baby, dancing with you is a vertical expression of a horizontal mission. Do you think, I’d allow someone else to win the bid?” I say. She looks at me shocked.

“I’m quite sure it’ll be worth every single cent,” I smile at her wickedly knowing that I’m about to collect the payments in lieu of the bid she’d made. (←Birthday Cake by Rihanna)

We go through the lawn, and see the band is setting up to get ready for the dancing soon to be started. I lead her to the rear of my parents’ house, opening the French doors; I lead her into the living room which is now devoid of occupants. We walk through the hall and I lead her to the staircase with polished wooden balustrade. I take her hand from my arm and holding it in mine and lead her to the third floor where my old bedroom used to be. Opening the white door of my old bedroom, I lead her into the room.

“This was my room,” I say quietly with some emotions making their way back up at my throat. I’ve never had what people would call a normal teenage period. In fact, nothing I had was ever, normal. I think I’ve skipped that all together, and strangely I have this overwhelming excitement of a teenager who has a girl for the first time in his room, in his parents’ house. I stand by the door and as she looks around curiously I lock the door behind me.

Anastasia is taking everything in with the observation of a girl who’s been invited into her boyfriend’s bedroom. My parents kept the room as the day I left it; with the same white walls and furniture. My double bed is still here with the old covers I had. She eyes the shelves with my old books and my kickboxing trophies. Then she turns her gaze to my movie posters from my old favorites, and kick boxers I’ve idolized, one of which was Giuseppe DeNatale. He’s also called Giuseppe “God Father” DeNatale, is an Italian-Canadian World Heavyweight Muay Thai kickboxing champion. When the guy used to step into the ring, they had this ominous, gun-celebrating opening song from the Sopranos, “Woke Up This Morning”, and it would rip thought the PA system, mixing in with the roar of his adoring fans in the crowd. (Woke Up This Morning – Sopranos soundtrack)  I also have a poster of Lee Hasdell who is English. He is a pro at mixed martial arts, and kickboxing. He had 44 wins in kickboxing and 29 of them were by knockouts! In kickboxing, it’s hard to knock someone out when it comes to your pro-athletes who are your equals in talent. Anastasia eyes my pin board above my desk full of pictures, and ticket stubs then her gaze rests back on me; and by this time I’m overwhelmed with emotions of having her here. For all intents and purposes, she’s my first girlfriend, and this is another first for me.

(Guiseppe DeNatale-right)

“I’ve never brought a girl in here,” I murmur.

“Never?” she asks in a whisper. I shake my head in answer.

“Well, Mr. Grey, your timing is propitious,” she says smiling.

“What can I say? Third time is the charm,” I say remembering my sister’s interruptions, giving Anastasia a lascivious grin.

Her chest is rising up and down in rapid succession with overwhelming excitement, feeling me take her in, desire her, want her. I saunter over to her slowly, desirously.

“We don’t have long, Anastasia, and the way I’m feeling right this moment, we won’t need long. Turn around. Let me get you out of that dress,” I order. She turns towards the door, ready for me to ease her out of the confines of her silver dress. I bend down and whisper in her ear softly, “keep the mask on,” and she groans in response. I love turning her on, and putting her on fire. (←Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon)

My fingers find the top of her dress and skate over her skin, feeling her, connecting with her. I need that jolt of electricity that goes between us every time we touch. My hand slides over to the zipper, and with the impatience of a lover scorned, I unzip it. I hold her dress and help her step out of it, then hang it over the chair by my old desk. I take my own jacket off, and put it on Anastasia’s dress. My girlfriend stands in her five inch Christian Louboutin stilettos, in her bodice and matching panties with her face covered in the silver mask with just her beautiful blue eyes showing. I’m in love with the sight before me. She turns me on, and gets me from zero to sixty in two seconds flat!

“You know, Anastasia,” I say to her as I saunter towards her, and untying my bow, “I was so mad when you bought my auction lot. All manner of ideas ran through my head. I had to keep reminding myself that punishment is off the menu. But then you volunteered,” I say gazing down at her trying to decipher what she’s thinking.

“Why did you do that?” I ask in a whisper. I don’t want to go there if this is going to mar our relationship. I want to understand her so that I don’t make the same mistake twice. Anastasia agreeing to something doesn’t always end up in pleasant results like I have recently experienced, so I have to understand her motives.

She looks at me in sexual frustration. “Volunteer? I don’t know. Maybe frustration... It maybe because of too much alcohol... worthy cause,” she shrugs. I circle around her, my gaze never leaving her. Her head follows my predatory movements. I stop before her as my mouth presses into a thin line, and I slowly lick my upper lip. She takes a shuddering breath involuntarily as desire reaches unbearable limits in her.

“I vowed to myself I wouldn’t spank you again, even if you begged me,” I explain.

“Please,” she says begging.

“But then I realized, you’re probably very uncomfortable at the moment, and it’s not something you’re used to,” I smirk. I know how to rile her up, how to get her hot, how to push the right buttons to make her want what I want, what I desire...willingly. There’s that dark side in everyone, just waiting to be tapped by the right person. I am that person for Anastasia. No matter how she riles me up, gets me from cold to raging mad in seconds, we are perfect for each other!

“Yes,” she breathes.

“So, there might be a certain...latitude. If I do this, you must promise me one thing,” I say.

“Anything,” she says rapidly.

I want her to clearly understand that and safeword if she doesn’t like what I’m doing. “You will safe word if you need to, and I will just make love to you, okay?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says already panting.

I am apprehensive, and I have to trust her to safeword when she needs to. I have to learn to trust her, and by the same token this is her chance to be communicative. This is our chance. I swallow nervously as if I’m passing a boulder through my esophagus. I pull the duvet off the bed, and sit down on the bed, grabbing a pillow, I place it next to me to use in a minute. I gaze at my woman, and suddenly with all the desire overflowing I pull on her hand, and she falls across my lap. Her body is on the bed, and chest on my pillow and her face to the side. I’ve missed this. I want to savor this moment. I lean over and sweep her hair over her shoulder and caress the plume of feathers on her mask.

“Put your hands behind your back,” I murmur. (←Principles of Lust by Enigma) She obeys immediately in anticipation. I pull my bow tie and tie her hands behind her back. But apprehension grows in me again, and uneasiness creeps up. I don’t want today to be the end of our relationship. A measly twenty-four thousand dollar she bid is not worth losing her. Although, that has never been the point. I want her to listen to me, once, for a change. Accept something I do for her without qualms.

“You really want this, Anastasia?” I ask.

 “Yes,” she whispers with longing, and her chest is rising up and down to accommodate her fluttering heart.

“Why?” I ask softly as I absently caress her behind. She groans in response, frustrated.

“Do I need a reason?” she asks.

“No, baby, you don’t,” I say. “I’m just trying to understand you,” I say. So I don’t fuck-up what we have. I don’t want to misread her signals, like I did before.

I have already been wanting to do this, and she has given me her consent. I caress her bottom with my palm and I lift it up and land it back on the junction of her thighs, hard. She moans loudly. I lift my hand up again, excitement running through my blood, and land my hand in the same spot. She groans once again.

“Two,” I murmur. “We’ll go with twelve.”

I caress her behind again with my entire hand covering her behind; hit her now rosy butt cheek slightly on the side. I create a circular pattern evenly spreading the spankings instead of landing on one spot. Hitting one spot dulls the pain, and doesn’t spread the sensation. I slowly peel her panties down and finally pull them off. Her behind is now my favorite color as it is sensitized and blood is drawn to the surface to accommodate the sting. I gently trail my palm across her behind smoothly and smack it again. Her groans turn into a sensual one, needy with sexual desire, fueling my arousal and passion for her.

I caress her behind with my palm and fingers again, and land the final blow on the lower junction of her thighs. “Twelve,” I murmur in a low and harsh voice. This time I caress her behind, and allow my finger to trail down to her sex and slowly insert two fingers inside her, and move in circles round and round never completing the pleasure, but adding to her want and need. She moans loudly, wanting, desiring, and seeking for release. I take pity on her, and this time let my finger travel fast and in repeating circular, relentless motion and get her to her peak of ecstasy and she comes, convulsing, intensely.

“That’s right, baby,” I murmur. I untie her wrists upon her completion, but I won’t remove my fingers from inside her.

“I haven’t finished with you yet, Anastasia,” I say. I lower her knees to the floor as she is slump leaning onto the bed. I grab a condom packet from my pants’ pocket, I undo my zipper, and rip the foil, and sheath my length with it. “Open your legs,” I say in a husky voice, and as I stroke her behind, lift her bottom up, laying her torso on the bed, I slide into her.

“This is going to be quick, baby,” I say, because, I am over the top for her, and as I grab her hips, I slam into her. She cries out involuntarily with both pain and pleasure as I continue administering sharp, sweet thrusts into her. She meets me thrust for thrust. She has been suffering all through the auction! I want to prolong the feeling just a little longer, but her actions are just like the catalyst my body needs and making me want to come faster. “Ana, no,” I grunt, trying to still her, but she keeps grinding against me.

“Ana, shit!” I hiss as I come groaning and my orgasm makes Anastasia come in strong spasms, milking me inside her. Finally we both collapse tired, and out of breath.

I could spend the rest of the evening here with Anastasia wrapped in my arms, and I’m inside her, but, I have paid for a very expensive dance, and I aim to collect it. I kiss her back, and murmur, “I believe you owe me a dance, Miss Steele.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs in response. I sit back on my heels and pull Anastasia off the bed and onto my lap. “We don’t have long. Come on,” I say kissing her hair making her get up.

She grunts but obeys, collecting her panties off the floor and puts them back on while I clean myself up. Then she walks to the chair to collect her dress while I tie my bow tie. She puts her dress back on by my desk, and her gaze drifts to my pin board. She looks at the pictures that were taken at various locations around the world with my family. Then she notices the tiny passport size picture in the corner of the pin board of the crack whore. Shit!

“Who’s this?” she asks curiously.

“No one of consequence,” I mutter. Only the very first woman who helped me to get royally fucked-up for life by not protecting me and checking out early. Yes, she’s of no consequence. I’m over her. I put my jacket on, and I want to distract Anastasia away from the crack whore.

“Shall I zip you up?”

“Please. Then why is she on your pin board?” she asks not letting it go.

“An oversight on my part. How’s my tie?” I try another stab at distracting her. And this time it works.

“Now it’s perfect.”

“Like you,” I murmur grabbing her and kissing her passionately. “Feeling better?”

“Much, thank you, Mr. Grey.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Miss Steele,” I respond as I take her hand and we make our way back to the dance floor.

We barely make it to the dance floor as the other guests are assembling. I lead Anastasia to the dance floor.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the first dance. Mr. and Dr. Grey, are you ready?” asks the MC, and my father nods as he wraps his arms around my mother.

“Ladies and gentleman of the First Dance Auction; are you ready?” asks the MC to the winners, and we all nod.

“Then we shall begin. Take it away, Sam!”

A young man saunters to the stage and turns to the band snapping his fingers. The band starts playing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”  (←I’ve got You Under My Skin sung by Katherine McPhee)

This song has a special meaning for us, because I’ve danced to this song when Frank was crooning in my great room. I smile down at my girl, take her in my arms and we start gliding on the dance floor. We grin like fools to each other, young and carefree.

“I love this song,” I murmur gazing down at her. “Seems very fitting,” I say as my face takes a serious expression. Just a short time ago, I thought I lost her, and she’s not just under my skin, but she’s branded in my soul.

“You’re under my skin, too,” she replies. “Or you were in your bedroom.”

I try to hide my amusement without success. “Miss Steele,” I chide her, “I’ve had no idea you could be so crude.”

“Mr. Grey, neither did I. I think it’s all my recent experiences. They’ve been an education,” she replies.

“For both of us,” I say remembering that I too have a lot to learn about equal partnership relationships though I still would like to keep the majority share of that partnership. She’s mine after all, and I’m still a control freak. I still have to have control. I tolerate and indulge Anastasia, but that shouldn’t be confused with giving up control. Mine is simply compromise and for Anastasia only.

As the song comes to a completion, everyone applauds, and the singer bows graciously.

A male voice comes behind me asking, “May I cut in?”

I reluctantly agree, but I’m still amused with his interruption. He must be about to explode by now for having heard so much about Anastasia, and wanted to meet her for a long time, and now he has the opportunity.

“Be my guest. Anastasia, this is John Flynn. John, Anastasia.”

As I make my way to the side of the dance floor smirking, I hear Dr. Flynn in his charming Londoner accent: “How do you do, Anastasia?” and she manages the dumbstruck “Hello,” back to him. The band starts playing “Sway.” (←Sway by Michael Buble)

 I see Dr. Flynn trying to lead the dance and laugh talking to Anastasia as she has a more serious face. My gaze is on them watching like a hawk. What is Anastasia asking him? Knowing she wouldn’t miss an opportunity like that to dig information. I wonder what sort of information Dr. Flynn will impart about me. I’m sure it wouldn’t be voluntary, but Anastasia has this canny ability to finagle information out of everyone. Fuck! She’s questioning him alright! What can she uncover in three minutes? That could be anything if she can have her way! I find myself tapping my foot nervously, though I try to suppress the uneasy feeling.

I keep checking my watch. Three minutes and nine seconds never felt so long! Finally the singer drawls the last bit of “Sway with me,” I make my way to Anastasia and Dr. Flynn. As I reach to their side, John releases her.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Anastasia,” he says, smiling at her warmly.

“John,” I nod at him.

“Christian,” he returns my gesture and disappears into the crowd.

I pull Anastasia into my arms for the next dance. The band's singer is crooning “Save the Last Dance For Me” (←Save the Last Dance for Me by The Drifters).  Is this a bad omen?

“He’s much younger than I expected,” she comments. “And terribly indiscreet,” she mutters.

What? I cock my head to one side trying to find out what he said. “Indiscreet?” I ask.

“Oh yes, he told me everything,” she says. My body tenses all of a sudden. If you’re as fucked-up as I am, there’s a lot to divulge. “Well, in that case, I’ll get your bag. I’m sure you want nothing more to do with me,” I say resigning.

She stops in the middle of the dance floor, unmoving. “He didn’t tell me anything!” she says panicking. “I was just teasing you!”

I blink in relief, exhaling. Then I pull her into my arms for a close embrace, my heart thumping nearly as loud as the drums in the orchestra. “Then let’s enjoy this dance,” I grin at her, and take her spinning, and finally take her for a low dip as we dance to “Fly me To the Moon.” (←by Frank Sinatra)

Once the dance is over, we all stop and applaud each other. The next song that comes on is “Cheek to Cheek.” I turn to Anastasia and grin as I hold my hand out to her: “Shall we, Ginger?”

“Why of course Fred!” she says, as she comes twirling into my arms making us both laugh. (←Cheek to Cheek sung by Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong)

Once the song is over, Anastasia turns to me and says, “I need to use the restroom, Christian.”

“What for?” I ask smirking, and she gives me her narrowed scolding gaze.

“I need to pee,” she whispers, blushing. Oh, that kind of need.

“I won’t be long,” she says finally giving me one of her smiles. I watch her leave the dance floor and make her way in the direction of the bathrooms. As I watch her go out of sight, I notice Taylor and Sawyer tail behind her discreetly.

About four minutes after she’s taken off, I feel my phone buzzing against my leg. I take it out and check the caller; it’s Taylor.

“Problem?” I answer.

“It could be, sir. Mrs. Lincoln just cornered Miss Steele at the dinner table you were both sitting when Miss Steele came to retrieve her purse.”

“Fuck!” comes out of my mouth. Loud music and people’s chatter drowns my epitaph; the other guests don’t pay attention to me.

“What do you want us to do sir?”

“Wait there! I’m on my way. I don’t want a scene. Just wait!” I say as I hastily make my way to the dining area short of running. I run into someone who thrusts his hand saying, “Oh, Mr. Grey! My name is...” but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“Yes, later,” I say annoyed, and move on.

When I finally reach the entrance of the tent, Taylor is standing there along with Sawyer, their eyes fixed on Elena and Anastasia, and I am completely agitated and worried of the result of this encounter.

“There you are,” I mutter to Anastasia as she’s making her way out of the tent, anger seeping through her pores. Then my gaze moves onto Elena, making me frown. Anastasia just strides past me; her mouth is shut in a tight line for a change; she says nothing.

“Ana,” I call after her. She stops and I double my steps to catch up to her. “What’s wrong?” I ask gazing down at her with worry and concern.

“Why don’t you ask your ex?” she hisses angrily. Not here baby! Not now! I take a deep breath, and the frost sheaths my eyes as if a protective barrier is erected, and my mouth takes an angry twist.

“I’m asking you,” I say, softly, in a very controlled voice. She glares at me, but I stand my ground.

“She’s threatening to come after me if I hurt you again – probably with a whip,” she snaps at me. Thank God! It’s not as bad as I thought. “Surely the irony of that isn’t lost on you,” I say my lips twitching with slight amusement.

“This isn’t funny, Christian!” she barks.

“No, you’re right. I’ll talk to her,” I say seriously, still amused, and trying to suppress a smile.

“You will do no such thing,” she says angrily, folding her arms as if to close herself off, a defensive reaction. I blink at her confused. Why is she so mad? It wasn’t that bad. Elena just expressed herself the only way Elena can.

“Look, I know you’re tied up with her financially, forgive the pun, but –“ she says, cutting herself off. Shakes her head, as if she’s speaking to a child who will not understand what she’s trying to convey. “I need the restroom.” She just glares at me, her lips in a taut line. I sigh, cocking my head to one side. I don’t want her to be angry. I wanted us to have a good time tonight, and we did, until Elena pulled her shit on Ana.

“Please don’t be mad. I didn’t know she was here. She said she wasn’t coming,” I say as if trying to calm and soothe a wild animal. I take a step towards her with my gaze on her, gently lifting my fingers up to her lips; I run my thumb along her pouting bottom lip. “Don’t let Elena ruin our evening, please, Anastasia. She’s really old news,” I say trying to soothe her. I pull her closer to me, closing my eyes, I graze her lips gently with mine making her sigh. When we break our kiss, I take her elbow.

“I’ll accompany you the powder room so you don’t get interrupted again,” I say leading her to the luxurious temporary restrooms.

“I’ll wait here for you, baby,” I murmur. I watch her enter into one of the portable bathrooms.

As soon as she locks her door, I get my Blackberry out and dial Elena’s number.

“Christian?” she answers apprehensively.

“What the fuck were you trying to pull here?” I hiss into the phone menacingly.

“What do you mean Christian?”

“Cut the crap Elena. You told me you weren’t coming to this event. Why did you change your mind? I thought we agreed.”

“Christian, you were so upset last Saturday, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I was worried sick about you, that you might do something to hurt yourself. And when you brought her over to the salon, I knew you were back with her. I wanted to make sure that she didn’t get to hurt you again.”

“That’s not your job or your place Elena!”

“I can’t, Christian. She was hurting you!”

“She wasn’t! She was protecting herself!”

“Her actions hurt you! I couldn’t let her repeat that again.”

“Well, leave her the fuck alone!”

“I was only thinking of your well-being, Christian. It hurts me to know that someone out there has the potential to damage you beyond repair.”

“Listen to me Elena! This is the first regular relationship I’ve ever had in my life, and I don’t want you jeopardizing it through some misplaced concern for me. Leave. Her. Alone. I mean it, Elena.”

“I’m sorry Christian! I really am! I didn’t know you had such strong feelings about her. I’m so sorry for interfering. Had I known I... I just don’t want this incident to destroy our friendship. Will it?” she asks pleading.

“No, of course not,” I say frowning, and when I glance up, I see Anastasia is regarding me.

“I have to go. Goodnight,” I say and disconnect the call.

She knows I was talking to Elena. She cocks her head to one side and asks, “How’s the old news?”

“Cranky,” I answer cynical. “Do you want to dance some more? Or would you like to go?” I ask checking the time. “If you wish to stay, the fireworks will start in about five minutes,” I tell her.

“Really? I love fireworks,” she replies excitedly.

“We’ll stay and watch them, then,” I say as I put my arm around her possessively and pull her close to my body. “Don’t let her come between us, please,” I plead with her.

“She cares about you,” mutters Anastasia.

“Yes, and I her...but only as a friend.”

“I think it’s more than a friendship to her,” Ana assesses.

I kind of know what she’s saying, and when you have had a relationship like we had, there are certain bonds, certain things that are forged whether good or bad. But it is what it is. I can’t change that.

“Anastasia, Elena and I...it really is complicated. We have a shared history. But it’s just that... a history. As I’ve said to you time and time again, she’s a good friend. That’s all. Please forget about her,” I beg kissing her hair.

When we finally make it back to the dance floor, my father calls out to Ana.

“Anastasia, I wondered if you’d do me the honor of the next dance,” he asks holding his hand out to her. Anastasia accepts the proffered hand.

When “Come Fly With Me,” starts playing, my father and Anastasia start dancing. (←Come Fly With Me sung by Michael Buble)

I wait on the sideline and start watching my girl swing around the dance floor with my father. She really is breathtaking especially in that mask. I watch her and my father dance, chatter and smile in delight making my heart melt. When the song comes to a conclusion, my father releases Anastasia, bows before her as she attempts at a curtsy.

“That’s enough dancing with old men,” I say teasing to Anastasia. My father laughs.

“Less of the ‘old,’ son. I’ve been known to have my moments,” he says winking, and goes back to the crowd.

I turn to Anastasia in awe and say, “I think my dad likes you,” as my gaze follows my father into the crowd.

“What’s not to like?” peek Anastasia through her mask batting her eyelashes coquettishly up at me.

“Good point well made, Miss Steele,” I say and pull her into my arms again, making us flush against each other’s bodies.

The band starts playing “It Had to Be You.” in a slow tone. (←It Had to be You sung by Frank Sinatra)

“Dance with me,” I whisper in a seductive tone. Dancing is almost like sex; it’s movements, flowing and ebbing motions, dipping, bodies tangling in synchronization, rhythm, and of course my favorite part – I get to take the lead.

“With pleasure, Mr. Grey,” she responds smiling. Once again, I sweep her through the dance floor.

When it’s midnight, I take Anastasia’s hand and we stroll down toward the shore to watch the fireworks by the boathouse. The MC now permits the guest to remove their masks, so they can see the display of fireworks better. Taylor and Sawyer are now close by because the fireworks are ready to go off, and now they can see each individual’s face. Their faces are vigilant, scanning, searching for any sign of trouble. I feel a shiver go through Anastasia’s body. I gaze down at her asking:

“You okay, baby? Are you cold?”

“I’m fine,” she quickly mutters. Her gaze scan around, and she notices Reynolds and Ryan behind us close by. She’s worried. I want her to forget that we have security around. They’re capable men, she needs to enjoy herself and not worry about anything. I move her in front of me away from the direct sight of our security detail. The pyro technicians are all dressed in black and almost ready to start the fireworks. When the classical music starts and resonates over the dock to accompany the fireworks, we see two rockets soar into the sky and explode over the bay sparkling orange and white and shaping into a palm tree glittering, and shimmering over the dark waters. Anastasia is awed after several more rockets are launches into the air and they too present an amazing display of colors and shapes, bursting stars, flower shapes, and magnificent display of bright colors. The rockets shoot and blast in time with the tune in the music making the display even more spectacular. I hear Anastasia take in her breath in amazement. (←Con Te Partiro by A. Bocelli & Sarah Brightman @ Bellagio Fountains in Las Vegas)

The fireworks display astonishes Anastasia so much that she is now donning a face splitting grin and looking up at me in pure joy. Once the finale arrives, a volley of six rockets shoot atop the dark waters of the lake and explodes simultaneously in glorious light display.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the MC calls out as cheers subside. “Just one note to add at the end of this wonderful evening; your generosity has raised a total of one million, eight hundred and fifty three thousand Dollars!” Cheers and applause erupt again from the crowd, and a sign displaying Thank You From Coping Together displays in sparkling letters over the water.

“Oh, Christian...that was wonderful,” Anastasia grins broadly at me and I can’t help but bend down to kiss her.

“Time to go,” I murmur as I don a broad smile on my face, with desire showing that I want to play with her before the night is over. She looks tired, so I better get her home if I have any hope of enjoying her tonight. I glance up at Taylor who is sticking close to us as the crowd around us is dispersing. There is apprehension in his eyes; he wants us to remain until the crowd is cleared. Taylor and I have developed this ability to communicate just with looks. Taylor is a veteran of wars and he had gone through some nasty shit; night raids, bombings, and he doesn’t see the fireworks the same way as we do. It’s disturbing to him. We all carry a certain baggage, and that’s part of his.

“Stay with me a moment. Taylor wants us to wait while the crowd disperses,” I say. Anastasia looks surprised.

“I think that fireworks display probably aged him a hundred years,” I add.

“Doesn’t he like fireworks?” I look down at her shaking my head, but I don’t explain - it’s not my place to divulge on Taylor’s personal torment and secrets; not even to Anastasia. Many soldiers who had been to wars, deal with similar sort of shit most of their lives.

“So, Aspen,” I say trying to distract her from the topic at hand.

“Oh...” she remembers. “I haven’t paid for my bid,” she says gasping.

“You can send a check. I have the address.

“You were really mad,” she notes correctly.

“Yes, I was,” I answer truthfully.

She smiles broadly in response. “I blame you and your toys.”

“You were quite overcome, Miss Steele. A most satisfactory outcome if I recall,” I respond smiling lasciviously. “Incidentally, where are they?”

“The silver balls? In my bag.”

“I’d like them back,” I say looking down at her smiling. “They are far too potent a device to be left in your innocent hands.”

“Worried I might be quite overcome again, maybe with somebody else?” she asks. Don’t fucking tease me with this shit Anastasia! Somebody else better lay no hand on what is mine! A dangerous gleam clouds my eyes. “I hope that’s not going to happen,” I say, my voice ice shards. “But no, Ana. I want all your pleasure.” Call me control freak, but when it comes to my woman, and how she’s pleasured, it has to be me doing the pleasuring, not even herself.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Implicitly. Now, can I have them back?” I ask holding my hand out.

“I’ll think about it.”

I narrow my eyes on her, but don’t act upon it.

The music starts back up again as the DJ starts playing some thumping music with a nice beat for the younger generation. (←Pump It by Black Eyed Peas)

“Do you want to dance?” I ask Anastasia.

“I’m really tired, Christian. I’d like to go, if that’s okay,” she says her eyes drooping.

I glance at Taylor who nods; he feels it’s safe enough to depart, and we make our way towards the house. I have Anastasia’s hand in mine. My sister Mia comes running. “You’re not going, are you? The real music’s just beginning. Come on, Ana,” she says grabbing her hand tugging towards the dance floor.

“Mia,” I cut her authoritatively. “Anastasia’s tired. We’re going home. Besides, we have a big day tomorrow.” Anastasia looks at me surprised, questioning. My sister pouts in disappointment, but she knows my tone of finality.

“You must come by sometime next week. Maybe we can hit the mall?” she asks Anastasia.

“Sure, Mia,” she says smiling sweetly. My sister kisses Anastasia quickly, and hugs me like there’s no tomorrow. Mia’s hands are lingering on top of the lapels of my tux, and I gaze down and look at my sister lovingly. Her touch doesn’t bother me, because she’s the first person that made me happy in this house. I held her as a baby, and when she placed her baby hands on me to seek comfort, and love, we were connected, and her touch never bothered me, ever. She’s the only person I feel that way.

“I like seeing you this happy,” she says to me in a sweet voice, and kisses me on the cheek.

“Bye. You guys have fun,” she chimes, and skips like a six year old to her friends, one of which is Lily who is gazing at us icily, shooting daggers with her look.

“We’ll say goodnight to my parents before we leave. Come,” I say leading Anastasia to the house who are among the throngs of the  guests in the house.

“Please do come again, Anastasia, it’s been lovely having you here,” says my mother. They both give hugs to her and kiss her on the cheeks. Anastasia looks overwhelmed, and amazed by their reaction. We finally make our way to outside waiting for our car. Anastasia glances up at me as we’re waiting. I don’t remember being this happy in a very long time. In fact, if I were to count my happiest moments, they would all include Anastasia.

“Are you warm enough?” I ask her.

“Yes, thank you,” she responds clasping her wrap.

“I really enjoyed this evening, Anastasia. Thank you.” I say. It wasn’t because of the charity event which in itself wouldn’t be fun for me, but it was because she was here, and she made it beyond memorable for me.

“Me too, some parts more than others,” she says grinning. This is what I’m talking about. I never know what she’ll say or do and how she’ll spike up my interest, desire, and love for her. If I didn’t have exceptional control, I’d be walking around with an erection at all times with her. I grin and nod at her, but noticing her lower lip in the captivity of her teeth again, my brow creases. “Don’t bit your lip,” I warn her darkly. She knows what that does to me.

“What did you mean about a big day tomorrow?” she asks changing the topic.

“Dr. Greene is coming to sort you out. Plus, I have a surprise for you.”

“Dr. Greene!” she stops, anxious. Is she worried?

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I hate condoms,” I say quietly. I gauge her reaction. Her body is mine as much as it is hers. I ought to have a say how we sort this problem. Of course by the same token, my body belongs to her as much as it belongs to me. It was in Song of Solomon which is now becoming my personal favorite line that said “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” (←Touch Me by Candace Charee)

“It’s my body,” she mutters.

“It’s mine too,” I whisper proprietary. She gazes up at me, close to me, turning, trying to merge. She is mine! Mine alone! She is more mine than she is her own! She reaches up, and I flinch slightly, but I manage remain still. With Anastasia, I don’t know what she will do. But reminding myself that my body is hers as well, I still myself. She grasps the corner of my bow tie, pulling it, she unravels it. Her hands slowly reach to the top button that is now displayed and gently unbuttons it.

“You look hot like this,” she whispers. Damn woman! She knows how to get me hot, and how to take over me.

I smirk at her, barely being able to contain myself. I don’t know if I can make it home without taking her. “I need to get you home. Come,” I say.

As our car pulls up, Sawyer comes up and hands me an envelope.

“Sir, one of the staff from the serving crew handed this to me. It’s addressed to Miss Steele. But the guy who gave it to me doesn’t know who it gave it to him.”  I frown and look at it. It has Anastasia’s name written on it. Taylor opens the door and lets Anastasia in. Another admirer from the party? I climb in, and hand her the envelope unopened. Taylor and Sawyer take their seats. Anastasia looks at me confused.

“It’s addressed to you. One of the staff gave it to Sawyer. No doubt from yet another ensnared heart,” I say with distaste. I don’t like this at all. I don’t like people eyeing what belongs to me, to have for their own. Anastasia stares at the unopened note. She rips it open, and reads it in the dim light inside the car. Her face drains of blood, and anger rushes her face. She turns to me angry.

“You told her?” she asks incredulous.

“Told who, what?” I ask confused.

“That I call her Mrs. Robinson,” she snaps at me.

“It’s from Elena?” I ask shocked. “This is ridiculous,” I grumble exasperated. What the hell is she trying to do here? I’m angry, irritated, and fucking ready to snap someone’s neck. “I’ll deal with her tomorrow. Or Monday,” I mutter my words dripping with poison. Anastasia says nothing else, and stashes the note into her purse, then takes out the silver balls and hands them to me.

“Until next time,” she murmurs. Despite what just happened, her acquiescence that I would take care of the problem with Elena, and giving me her peace offering in the form of the silver balls, makes me smirk and like her even more.

As the SUV speeds through the city, Anastasia is gazing out the window looking in to the darkness of the city. Pretty soon her head droops to the window and she’s asleep. I pull her head onto my lap not willing to let her head bump into the window all through Seattle. She looks so peaceful. I rub her hair until we get to Escala. Once Taylor pulls into the underground parking garage, and pulls as close to the elevators as possible, I wake Anastasia up. She looks so tired. “Do I need to carry you in?” I ask gently. She shakes her head in the negative. Sawyer jumps out of the car to let me out, and I walk to let Anastasia out. As the three of us make our way into the elevator, Taylor pulls away to park at one of our bays.

As the elevator’s door dings open, we head in. Anastasia leans against me, tired; she puts her head against my shoulder. Sawyer is standing in front of us, and being new, he shifts uncomfortably. If it was Taylor, he would perfectly pretend no one was here, and assumed a completely impassive demeanor.

“It’s been a long day, eh, Anastasia?” I ask. She nods in response too tired to form words.

“You’re not very talkative,” I say to which she responds with a nod again making me grin.

“Come. I’ll put you to bed,” I say and take her hand as we exit the elevator, but Sawyer holds his hand up stopping us in the foyer. Trouble! He talks to his radio attached to his sleeve.

“Will do, T,” he says, and turns to face us, but addresses me. “Mr. Grey, the tires on Ms. Steele’s Audi have been slashed and paint thrown all over it,” he says calmly. Fuck! Anger rises in me. Leila! Suspecting she might target Anastasia and knowing that she’s targeting her makes me beyond angry. This is now personal. Blood drains from my face.

“Taylor is concerned that the perp may have entered the apartment and may still be there. He wants to make sure,” Sawyer simply states.

“I see,” I speak in a whisper hardly recognizing my own voice. “What’s Taylor’s plan?”

“He’s coming up in the service elevator with Ryan and Reynolds. They’ll do a sweep then give us the all clear. I’m to wait with you, sir.”

“Thank you, Sawyer,” I say as I tighten my arm around Anastasia protectively. “This day just gets better and better,” I sigh bitterly, as I nuzzle Anastasia’s hair. All my fucking exes are out to destroy my relationship, not to mention the object of my affection. Fuck this! I’m getting angrier by the second. Why am I waiting here as if I’m hiding from Leila who used to be my sub, for God’s sake? I’ve nothing to fear from any of the women who had been in my life one time or another. As the anger rises in me, I have steel determination to go and find Leila if she’s still in my apartment.

“Listen, I can’t stand here and wait. Sawyer, take care of Miss Steele. Don’t let her in until you have the all clear. I’m sure Taylor is overreacting. She can’t get into the apartment,” I say and turn to get into my God damned house!

“No, Christian – you have to stay with me,” Anastasia begs.

I release her. “Do as you are told, Anastasia. Wait here,” I order.

She’s moving forward to come along being the disobedient, in her I-do-whatever-I-damn-well-please self.

“No!” I say firmly to her stopping her in her tracks. “Sawyer?” I turn to him giving him my, you-better-not-allow-her-in-if-you-want-to-keep-your-job look, making sure he won’t allow her in. I enter into the apartment, and shut the door behind me. (←Danger Zone from Top Gun)

The soft lights are on in the apartment. I turn the lights on full blast chasing away all the shadows from the corners. The first place I walk into is the great room. My gaze sweeps around, and I see no one. Taylor, Ryan and Reynolds all walk in rushing with their weapons drawn, their backs to each other. Taylor’s gaze sweeps me up and down to assess if I have any injury. Geez! He’s overcautious and overprotective sometimes. When he sees me angry, but otherwise well, he makes a hand gesture dispersing his two cohorts to search various parts of the apartment.

“Mr. Grey,” he says in a reprimanding voice. “You have to come with me, sir,” he says knowing I won’t be persuaded to be left in the sidelines.

“Let’s check my bedroom, and the Playroom, Taylor” I say in a serious tone. Taylor is still pure attention, eyes darting in every corner as if an unseen assailant will jump from any corner, his gun still drawn. He talks into his radio on his sleeve in a low voice, barking orders.

“Taylor, you don’t have to have your gun drawn in here! It’s just a disturbed woman,” I say looking at his cocked and ready to shoot Walther P99 9 mm with a spotlight.

“Sir, she has a gun permit, and I have to assume that she has purchased a weapon already. The fact that she has come and defaced Miss Steele’s vehicle so openly, so viciously shows that she’s unstable, and unafraid, and undeterred. My job is to protect you and Miss Steele over there,” he says pointing in the direction of the foyer. “Please, let me do my job!”  I nod, knowing he’s right.

We first walk into my room. Taylor checks every crevice in the room, behind the curtains, makes sure the door to the balcony is locked, in the bathroom, even looks around the ceiling as if she’d be hanging in a corner like a spider or a bat. Next we go to the Playroom. I have the door locked at all time, but with Leila, who has proven how crafty she is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a key made for herself and kept it all these years. I haven’t changed the locks of the playroom since she was here last. Taylor goes in and sweeps around every corner. I linger to look at some other location in the room, and Taylor motions with his hand to come where he is without turning his head.

“Mr. Grey. Please stay close to me. I need to be able to protect you, and the closer you are, the easier my job,” he says patiently.

“Taylor! No one’s here! The room’s empty!” I say.

“Mr. Grey. Let me determine that myself. We won’t know whether she’s in this room or not until I sweep every corner, every crevice, behind every accessory here and it hasn’t been done yet. I will give you an all-clear when this is done. But, you must remain close to me here, or remain with Miss Steele in the foyer. I can’t pay attention to what I must do if I worry about your safety, sir. You appointed me as the head of your security. Please trust my judgment...” he says, and tags an exasperated, “sir,” at the end.

He hears his name from the earpiece, and gives a barely contained vexed answer, “What?”

His eyes darts at me, and then back to his sleeve.

“Sawyer!” he barks, and my attention level rises knowing Anastasia is with him. As my eyes pierce Taylor, my mouth a grim line, I almost turn to go to Anastasia. Taylor holds a finger to indicate one minute. “Miss Steele is not to leave the foyer until I give you all clear,” barely containing himself. Then he turns to me and say, “Miss Steele is insisting of coming out and looking for you, sir,” he says. Exasperation rises in me. “She remains in the foyer with Sawyer until you and your team gives an all-clear,” I order. “You heard it, Sawyer! That’s an order!” says Taylor into the radio on his sleeve.  I nod with approval. I know that Taylor can get more wired up about our security possibly with all the shit he had to deal with as a member of Black Ops, the rest of us would never get to experience; but at this moment I also realized his genuine concern and his seriousness about his job in protecting me and Anastasia. With this realization, I let him have the reins until he gives us an ‘all-clear’, trusting his judgment.

Once we checked every corner of the Playroom together, Taylor finally says, “all-clear”. We move on to checking the library, and one other room in the same floor. Not more than fifteen minutes later, Ryan and Reynolds converge with us in the great room, and a general ‘all-clear’ is declared by Taylor. I give a sigh of relief, but tension doesn’t leave Taylor’s eyes, still vigilant as if he’s in the enemy territory. Knowing Taylor, he won’t be sleeping tonight. I leave my security detail standing and comparing notes in the great room and make my way into the foyer to get my girl and take her into my arms.

I reach out to the doorknob and turn it to open. Sawyer spins like a top, and draws a gun from his shoulder holster directing at my face. Anastasia gasps with fear, her face fallen and utterly scared with Sawyer’s reaction.

Hello everyone! I'm posting a tad bit early. Next posting is on Sunday! Hope you're all well. I've been busy arranging a funeral for our beloved fish Jack Sparrow today. Believe it or not, I had to write a eulogy for him. My girls are crying over him still, and they've been upset that his wife Catherine (they're been in the same fish bowl for the last two years) is left all alone!