BOOK II - CHAPTER X - Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

NAUTICAL CLUB

CHAPTER X

I am bewildered a scared by my own admission. I said it out loud! I have finally admitted, and named the feeling inside me for this goddess before me. My insides twist and I have this gut wrenching feeling that I’m unworthy of loving her. Anastasia looks joyous, happy, and she has this uncontained love and longing for me in her gaze. (←In Her Eyes by Josh Groban)  She looks so innocent, so enticing, so heavenly, and that makes me feel like shit; a man devoid of a soul should not be in love with a girl like this.  I can’t bear the way she looks at me as if nothing exists other than her and I in the universe. I remember what Sydney Carton said at this moment. “I’m a disappointed drudge, sir. I care for no man on earth, and no man on earth cares for me.”

This is how I thought of myself, and have denied my feelings for her from surfacing.  “Love is a worthless emotion! It weakens the man. Same end goal could be achieved by other means completely bypassing the baggage love brings in” has been ingrained in me. Here I am, a man who is bare in all his existence, with a lot to conceal but nowhere to hide, who is worthless with no heart and no soul. In comes this angel extracting me skillfully out of my miserable existence. An existence full of layers, but when all is peeled away, when I don’t erect all my walls around me, this is what I am. Open to her. Scared... All this is new to me. I’ve never, ever uttered these words to anyone in my life! No to my parents, not to my siblings, not to any living soul! I never loved. I’m definitely like Sydney Carton today. “I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness to wish you to know what sudden mastery you kindled in me, heaps of ashes that I am, into fire.”

Anastasia’s love is my resurrection. Sydney’s love was not requited. I was scared and shocked to know that Anastasia loves me, but now that knowledge is in me, that I know she loves me, I can’t do without it. “I would embrace any sacrifice for you and for those dear to you,” Sydney said to Lucie. That was the only real way he could give his love for her. I too would do any sacrifice for Anastasia, save for the one to see her with someone else. I’d die before I let that happen! I am but a selfish man. Sydney Carton’s was a dream that ended in nothing. But he told Lucie that she inspired the dream. I don’t want this to be a dream with Anastasia. I want to live in it. I want to experience, keep it for me, and me alone! I am not the kind of man who would abandon a fight. And I fight to win. If that was what it would take to have her, I’d fight to have and keep her, with anyone who would dare to challenge me.

Anastasia reaches up to me and clasp my face in her hands and kiss me... Kiss me in such a gentle passion; it makes the time stop, and my heart melts. Our feelings become floods that flow into each other through our kiss, our bond. Her gentle kiss turns into a passionate one as the hot water from the shower rains on us. Everything in me snaps to attention, and I groan and take her into my embrace holding her close to my body, to my heart, to my soul. Or is it the other way around? When she is this close, I get to feel that I have a heart and a soul. She is what feeds my soul, she is my soul. She is what makes me complete.

“Oh, Ana,” I whisper my voice hoarse with emotions I can’t translate into words. “I want you, but not here.” My love making is my way of expressing myself. Everything else is new to me. This is my way of making sure we are okay with each other, that we love, and it’s my reassurance to her. (←When You Say You Love Me by Josh Groban)

“Yes,” she murmurs into my mouth just as desirous. I turn the water off in the shower, and holding her hand; I lead her out of the shower, and wrap her bathrobe around her. Then I get a fluffy towel to wrap around my waist. I get another towel and pull Anastasia closer to me. I turn her around and gently rub her hair with the towel, drying it. This simple yet wholesome act is so intimate, so familiar and yet there is a very sensual quality in it. No words involved. Just non-sexual touching...loving, cherishing one another. When I get through her hair, I wrap the towel around her hair, and as she lifts her head up to look into the mirror, our gazes meet. Anastasia brightens up, and a shimmer comes to her eyes.

“Can I reciprocate?” she asks.

I’m dying for her to touch me, but, the feeling is so new, so overwhelming, apprehension creeps back into me. I shove it down, and nod in the affirmative. I want to do this. Yet, I’m still nervous. Unblinking, my gaze follows Anastasia. She takes another towel from the pile, and she has to stand on her tiptoe to reach my head. I bend down to let her reach me easier, and she gently dries my hair. I don’t think I’ve ever allowed anyone to do this for me. Not even when I was first adopted. It hurt Grace a lot for not being able to care for me like a mother would want, but, I learned to be sufficient at a young age to not to allow anyone to touch me. Yet, to my surprise I find that I like her touching me like this, and for some unfathomable reason, relaxation creeps up and eases me, and makes me happy like a child. I’m elated beyond belief and grinning ear to ear like it’s the Christmas morning!

“It’s a long time since anyone did this to me. A very long time,” I find myself muttering. “In fact, I don’t think anyone’s ever dried my hair.”

“Surely Grace did? Dried your hair when you were young?” asks Anastasia.

I shake my head in the negative as she’s trying to still rub the towel and suck all the water out of my it.

“No. She respected my boundaries from day one, even though it was painful for her. I was very self-sufficient as a child,” I say too quietly. I had to be self-sufficient; in fact I think it was me who cared for the crack-whore instead of her mothering me. But I don’t want those memories to spoil what we have right this moment.

“Well, I’m honored,” she says sweetly.

“That you are, Miss Steele. Or maybe it is I who am honored.”

“That goes without saying, Mr. Grey,” she says tartly, still teasing.

Once she’s done with my hair, she takes a hand towel from the pile and she moves around me to stand behind me. Our eyes meet in the mirror. She wants to do something else, but do I want to find out what that is? I still can’t help but give her a questioning look in the mirror.

“Can I try something?” she asks. I know, she wants to dry me. Words get stuck in my throat as if they all piled up at once and blocked the exit. All I can do is to nod. She slowly takes the towel and run it down on my left arm, chasing the beads of water over my skin. I watch her movements in the mirror, gaze at the woman who single handedly opened me up like the Grand Bazaar. As she notices my gaze on her, she holds her gaze up to meet my eyes in the mirror, burning with emotion.  Just then without breaking her gaze with me, she leans down, and places a gentle kiss on my bicep. It’s such a small, but infinitely loving motion, a shiver goes through my body and I gasp, my lips fall open to accommodate the rising need in me. She moves her attention to my right arm, and chases down the water drops with the small towel. Once she completes her mission, she runs a trail of kisses on my bicep, and oddly, I love the sensual gesture. How could something that scared me to death be so incredibly arousing? I feel a smile creep up to my lips.

Then Anastasia’s gaze meets mine in the mirror again. She trails the towel carefully below the lipstick line in my back. I want her to touch me. I want her to feel me. Feel how much I want her, how much she, she alone means to me! A volcano of emotions rises up in me, and with the surface breaking with my declaration of love for Ana, my emotions rise to the surface, overflowing. (←More Than Words by Extreme)

“Whole back,” I ask her quietly, “with the towel.”  I need to do this. It’s been long enough. I need to conquer this last bit of territory in me with her. I inhale a sharp intake of breath to suppress the stirring devil always at bay wanting me to lose. I close my eyes shut. Tight! Anastasia does what she is asked quickly. When she is done, she removes her hand, and I finally exhale relief. She rewards my bravery with a kiss on my shoulder. Anastasia puts her arms around me to dry my stomach still in the safe zone. But having someone, even Anastasia touch me where I have not been touched in a very long time is a Herculean struggle. I am apprehensive as if any moment she will stray from the line, though I know she won’t.

“Hold this.” She says, and hands me a dry hand towel. Feeling confused, I frown looking at her. What is going through her beautiful head?

“Remember in Georgia? You made me touch myself using your hands,” she explains. It was one of the best memories I’ve had. My gaze darkens with desire. Without saying a word, I look back at her in the mirror. My woman, the girl who belongs to me in every way possible is holding me as if no two other people belonged to each other as much as we did, here, and now. Her hand softly reaches up to mine, and I take it, trusting her. I guide her hand up to my chest drying it. Having control of what she is doing makes me feel better by leaps and bounds. I can do this. I’m in charge. She is surrendering her movements to my control. But going over the scars, triggers a new emotion, bringing torturous memories back that I’ve tried to keep away for as long as I can remember. My body tenses, but I am going to get through it. I trust her. I trust her. I trust her. I trust. Anastasia. It’s my mantra. Her hand in mine glides over my torso awkwardly. I’m never awkward in anything physical whether sex or exercise. But this... This is uneasy for me. Anxiety rolls through me. Time stops, breathing stops, just the amplified sound of the towel gliding over my torso. Nothing else.

“I think you’re dry now,” she whispers in a low voice, and time catches up, the towel silences, and I sag. But something else exponentially grows in me. It’s the need I have for Anastasia. I have to have her, unite our bodies, our souls... I have to hold her, make love to her. Now!

“I need you, Anastasia,” I whisper fervently. (←Make you Feel My Love by Adele)

“I need you, too, she says like she’s asking for another breath of air.

“Let me love you,” I say my voice thick with emotion.

“Yes,” she says, I turn around faster than Superman and sweep her up in my arms, and as my lips seek hers, I worship her, love her as I am basked in all the emotions, implore her to love me, too...She is mine.. and mine alone. As I kiss her, consume her, devour her with my love, and desire; I realize that she’s the one I cherish, I want, I love with all my existence! Every way that I am... fucked-up, loving, moody, mercurial, demanding, possessive, in-love, enamored, scared, worried, worshipping, damaged, control freak, bossy, sex god... All fifty shades of me love Anastasia Steele!

I walk into the bedroom completely consumed in her, with my woman wrapped around my torso; I dump her onto the bed.

“Let me make love to you Ana!” I beseech her. “Let me show you what you mean to me... Let me worship you with my body...” I say as I cover her body with mine. (←Your Body Is a Wonderland by John Mayer)

The heat coming off my arms and body... and the tension mounting on my legs and chest. My lips go to hers claiming them, my tongue darting into her mouth, and seeking hers. Tasting Anastasia’s sweet mouth. She then traces her tongue on my lower lip, and every so slightly bites my lip, making me groan more. My lips trace hers, and I suck on her lower lip and she pants into my mouth. Fever courses through both our bodies. I trail kisses down to her throat and she arches her neck to give me easy access. I smile. My hand trail to the small of her back and lifting her off the bed slightly while my other hand is trailing down her side, her hip and her legs. Searing her. I trail down to her collar bone, then down to her breast bone, marking a path as I travel. I feel her pounding heart beneath my lips, her chest rising. She lifts herself off the mattress to meet my lips with her body. I grin. My lips move over her breast, licking, nipping, and teasing. She gasps some more.

“Oh, please Christian!” she pleads. I take her nipple into my mouth, sucking, gently biting, making her gasp, and moan in pure pleasure. My right hand travels to find her other breast and I start working on it, palming. I take her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, and repeat the motions of my tongue’s ministrations with her other breast. She mumbles an incoherent version of my name.  The world recedes and there is only Anastasia. Touch, taste, smell, hearing. I’m immersed in her in every way possible. (←She’s So High by Tal Bachman)

“You have a smell that makes me hard instantly Anastasia...” I murmur. All heavenly, all woman, all my baby. And the sounds she makes...I could go on loving her, kissing her, riding her to eternity with the way she’s responding to me! We are so attuned to each other’s body. I’m incomplete without her!

She arches her hips and rubbing herself to my body. Sweet heaven! My lips travel down to her belly button and I nip around it making her gasp. Going down to her sex, my lips dart into her sweet womanhood, licking, darting in deep, she lifts her hip up into my mouth as I hold her buttocks and she gives a loud scream of delight.

“Please Christian! I want you inside me!” she begs. I can’t stand of not being in her when she’s begging like this. I groan! I reach the bedside dresser, and grab a condom, quickly ripping the foil; I sheath it onto my length.

“You don’t know how much I like making you come Ana!”

“Just fuck me already!” she groans, making me grin wide.

“Yes, ma’am!” I say as I slam into her in one swift movement. My arms are just beside her torso, and as I rhythmically go in and out of her, my mouth covers hers again, making her taste her own arousal. I feel Anastasia’s muscles clenching around me, sheathing, cocooning, and delicious sensations course through the tip of my cock to the rest of my length, and I feel my entire body engulfed in the blissful pleasure, and I shout Anastasia’s name as we both reach our climax as shudders ripple through our bodies, and I collapse on top of her in a sated rapturous heaven.

When we both come down from our coital bliss, we’re both sated. I lazily run my fingers through her body as we lie together. Anastasia is lying on her front hugging her pillow, and I’m on my side, just touching my woman. MY woman! MINE! (←Crazy For This Girl by Evan and Jaron)

“So you can be gentle,” she murmurs all satisfied.

“Hmm...so it would seem, Miss Steele,” I say, making her grin.

“You weren’t particularly the first time we... um, did this,” she remarks remembering something.

“No?” I smirk at her. That was the first time when I laid claim on her. “When, I robbed you of your virtue,” I say proprietary.

“I don’t think you robbed me. I think my virtue was offered up pretty freely and willingly. I wanted you, too, and if I remember correctly, I rather enjoyed myself,” she smiles in her shy girlie smile, and biting her lip.

“So did I if I recall, Miss Steele. We aim to please,” I say as my face softens, and goes series. “And it means you’re mine, completely,” I remind her. She’s mine in every way possible.

“Yes, I am,” she says in a soft voice confirming. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Your biological father... Do you know who he was?”

This is a topic I don’t want to discuss, but its Anastasia the curious. It has bothered me that the man who abused me could have been my father. But thank God, he wasn’t!

“I have no idea. Wasn’t the savage who was her pimp, which is good.”

“How do you know?” she asks.

“Something my dad, Carrick said to me,” I remark. She looks at me expectantly, waiting for more information as her satellite antennas are raised, and opened up. I smirk at her.

“So hungry for information, Anastasia,” I sigh shaking my head in mock disgust. “The pimp discovered the crack whore’s body and phoned it in to the authorities. Took him four days to make the discovery though. He shut the door when he left...left me with her... her body,” I say. A scene that plays in my nightmares almost every night.

Anastasia is horrified and her changes into one of a grim look, making her inhale sharply at the image.

“Police interviewed him later. He denied flat out I was anything to do with him, and Carrick said he looked nothing like me.”

“Do you remember what he did look like?” she asks.

“Anastasia, this isn’t a part of my life I revisit very often. Yes, I remember what he looked like. I’ll never forget him.” The memory of a man who has done so much damage to my being is not something I want to discuss right after having mind blowing sex. Anger naturally rises in me.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Christian,” she answers.

I know it’s in the past, but it’s like remembering the taste of a nasty food you ate right after you ate the most exquisite meal. It doesn’t go well.

“It’s old news, Ana. Not something I want to think about.”

“So, what’s this surprise, then?” she asks. Oh, baby, you’re always hungry for information! But, I can’t tell you what it is otherwise it’s not a surprise.

“Can you face going out for some fresh air? I want to show you something.”

“Of course,” she responds.

I smile like an idiot. I want so much to do this with her, and it’s my third favorite hobby in the world! I’m incredibly joyous!

“Get dressed. Jeans will be good. I hope Taylor’s packed some for you,” I say.

I quickly get up and get my boxers on. She’s sitting in the bed, and just ogling me! The little she-devil!

Up,” I scold her, as she keeps on gazing at me, and grinning at the man she owns...me.

“Just admiring the view,” she says making me rolls my eyes. But she does get up, and we move efficiently as if we’ve lived together for year, completely aware of the nuances of our bodies, how the other one would act. Yet, this is something new to both of us, and we’re shy of this new kind of intimacy. We both finally get dressed, each catching the eye of the other in the mirror. Smiling shyly, occasionally touching each other fondly.

“Dry you hair,” I order her after she’s dressed.

“Domineering as ever,” she replies smirking, and filling my heart with joy. Though she sounds complaining, I know she likes it when I’m in charge. (←Take Over Control by Afrojack)  I lean in and kiss her hair. Yes, it’s wet.

“That’s never going to change, baby. I don’t want you sick.” She rolls her eyes at me, and I grin mischievously.

“My palms still twitch, you know, Miss Steel.”

“I’m glad to hear about it, Mr. Grey. I was beginning to think you were losing your edge,” she comes back.

“I could easily demonstrate that is not the case, should you so wish,” as I take my sweater and drape it over my shoulder. I’m now dressed in my jeans and t-shirt, and if I need it later my sweater is available. I look at Anastasia. She has her pale blue shirt, and her jeans. She leans down and shaking her hair starts drying it. Good girl!

*****

Where are we going exactly?” she asks as we are waiting for the valet to bring my car. I’m not letting her into my secret yet. I just wink at her as I tap the side of my nose. Her curiosity just peaks my joy. But I won’t tell her. I can barely contain myself as it is evident she is hypothesizing in her head what where we could be going. I just can see those gears turn in her head trying to decipher. Man, I love this game with her! I lean down and kiss her gently.

“Do you have any idea how happy you make me feel?” I whisper.

“Yes...I know exactly. Because you do the same for me,” she says, and by the time the valet pulls up in my car, all three of us have ear to ear grins, all for different reasons.

“Great car, sir!” the valet mumbles, as he hands me the key. I wink at him, and since I’m too happy today, I hand him a two hundred Dollar bills as tip making Anastasia gape at me. The valet is shocked, and he stumbles on his words, “uhm... yes, Thank you Mr. Taylor! Sir!”

*****

After driving out of the hotel’s driveway, I merge into the traffic. I may have to delay my trip a little bit in order to rectify something for Anastasia. It bothered me that Leila was able to locate her car, well, because as Anastasia put it, it was the “submissive special.” But Anastasia has never been my submissive. She’s my girlfriend. She’s my more. She’s everything. Whatever our souls are made of, hers and mine are the same. When we are together, we just sync. She’s half of my soul, and half of my heart. (←Half of My Heart by John Mayer) We’re yin and yang. How then could I have given her a submissive special?

It bothers me that I did that. It’s time I change this.

“I need to make a detour. It shouldn’t take long,” I say as my mind is still busily occupied with my thoughts.

“Sure,” she murmurs puzzled.

I fall back to my thoughts as Evgenia Laguna’s hypnotizing voice sings in the background. (←Fifth Element Diva Song sung by Evgenia Laguna)

I look at Anastasia gazing at me through my peripheral vision. She’s different. She’s not a sub. And she’d be a terrible one anyway, I think smiling, but I love her for her rebellious spirit. It challenges my dominating side. I am determined to make her place different with me. So, no, a submissive special is not good enough for her. She has to be distinct. She’s my first in many ways. She’s the only woman I ever loved. I gaze at her with determination to prove her she is different to me.

I exit the freeway and taking a left I pull into the parking lot of a Saab dealership.

“We need to get you a new car,” I say. Her mouth drops open. I know this isn’t what she was thinking as a detour destination.

“Not an Audi?” she asks dazed.

“I thought you might like something else,” I mutter, almost shy. I know I admitted I love her, but everything is different with her, new experiences, new emotions that I never thought I had in me. I shift nervously on my feet.

“A Saab?”

“Yeah. A 9-3. Come,” I say taking her hand in mine as if someone else will claim it if I didn’t.

“What’s it with you and foreign cars?”

“The Germans and the Swedes make the safest cars in the world, Anastasia,” I state the fact.

“I thought you’d already ordered me another Audi A3?” she questions.

Oh, baby, I’m Christian Grey. No one will argue with me if I decided to not to buy something. “I can cancel that. Come,” I say pulling her.

“I owe you a graduation present,” I say as I hold her hand. She is going to get her proper present today.

“Christian, you really don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do. Please. Come,” I say firmly. She sighs, and follows me. A New England accented salesman named Troy Turniansky, sees Dollar signs when he sees us.

“A Saab, sir? Pre-owed?” he asks as he rubs his hands like those cartoon characters who are ready to jump at you before they can shake you down and take the contents you are possessing on you.

“New,” I say firmly, insulted.

“Did you have a model in mind, sir?”

“9-3 2.0 T Sport Sedan.”

“An excellent choice, sir.” You bet it is! I’ve done my homework on it.

“What color, Anastasia?” I ask her slanting my head.

“Er...black?” she asks in a question. “You really don’t need to do this,” she says making me frown. Damn it, Ana! Don’t rain on my parade. If I want to get a car for my girlfriend, I’ll get a car! And, not black, if I can help it! People don’t see it as easily as other colors.

“Black’s not easily seen at night,” I state the obvious.

“You have a black car,” she retorts back, making me frown. Yes, but I’m a better driver.

“Bright canary yellow then,” she says shrugging.

I make a face to her choice. Be serious!

“What color do you want me to have?” she asks finally giving up.

“Silver or white.”

“Silver, then. You know I’ll take the Audi,” she says. Blood drains from the salesman’s face with the prospect of losing a sale and his commission. “Perhaps you’d like the convertible, ma’am?” he asks, with a lot of enthusiasm. I’m not sure if I like the convertible idea. Too dangerous for her.

“Convertible?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, looking at her. She flushes. I can make Anastasia come just gazing at her intently, but, I don’t want to pre-heat my girlfriend in front of this cheap suit. As Anastasia gets shy and looks down at her hands, I turn my gaze onto the cheap suit and ask, “What are the safety stats on the convertible?”

“I’m glad you asked sir! This car has earned the top safety honors four years in a row. Along with the standard safety equipment such as side air bags, front standard, and rear, it has standard stability control, standard antilock brakes. In addition to that, we have traction control, and the vehicle did superbly on crash and rollover tests!” he starts and goes on nearly ten minutes talking about the cars safety features. I’m pleased. As I turn away from the salesman, I find Anastasia grinning at me for some unfathomable reason. I’m both puzzled and surprisingly amused at her reaction to me.

As the cheap suit is talking, I ask him if he has one on the lot. He says he doesn’t but he can locate the nearest one for us. I nod, and he’s happy to oblige. When he’s gone to his computer, I lean down to Anastasia and say, “Whatever you’re high on, I’d like some, Miss Steele.”

“I’m high on you, Mr. Grey,” she responds.

“Really? Well you certainly look intoxicated,” I say as I pull her to me and steal a kiss. “And thank you for accepting the car. That was easier than last time.”

“Well, it’s not an Audi A3.” I smirk. A submissive edition is not suitable for her.

“That’s not the car for you,” I say.

“I liked it,” she responds.

“Sir, the 9-3? I’ve located one at our Beverly Hills dealership. We can have it here for you in a couple of days,” he says practically glowing.

“Top of the range?” I ask. I don’t want a bare minimum for her.

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent,” I say and take out my credit card to pay for it.

“If you’ll come this way, Mr.” says the cheap suit, and take a look at my credit card. “Grey.” And easy as that, we purchased a car for Anastasia.

Once our transaction is complete, I take Anastasia back to my car, open her door and let her back in.

“Thank you,” she says grateful making me smile. Anastasia accepting a gift from me is always welcome.

“You are most welcome, Anastasia.”

When I turn the car back on, the music comes back up.

“Who’s this?” Ana asks.

“Eva Cassidy,” I say.

“She has a lovely voice,” Anastasia observes.

“She does, she did, rather.”

“Oh.”
“She died young,” I state, somber. (←Fields of Gold by Eva Cassidy)

“Oh.”

“Are you hungry?” I say to change the topic. I don’t want to talk about death with Anastasia. Not a topic, I want to associate with her. “You didn’t finish all your breakfast,” I say glancing at her with disapproval.

“Yes,” she responds.

“Lunch first, then.”

I drive to the waterfront heading north along the Alaskan Way. The weather is unbelievably beautiful. I’m next to my lovely girlfriend, having accomplished one task, we’re going to eat and then show her my other favorite hobby. As another song by Eva Cassidy starts as I turn left, towards the coastal road, and finally pull into the parking lot of the restaurant I want to take her.

“We’ll eat here. I’ll open your door,” I say firmly, so she doesn’t come out on her own. I want to treat her, like the elegant woman she is. I want her to get used to being treated like a lady.

Once I open her door, I take her arm into mine, and she gazes up at me smiling. The restaurant is by the marina.

“So many boats,” murmurs Anastasia. The sea is calm, and the boats are lazily bobbing up and down as the water is lapping onto their sides. Sail boats are visible out in the Sound. The wind picks up and a wind gust rushes us by making Anastasia pull her jacket tight.

“Cold?” I ask her pulling her closer to my body to keep her warm.

“No, just admiring the view,” she replies.

“I could stare at it all day. Come, this way.” I say. We finally make our way into the bar and restaurant with white limed walls, pale blue furnishing, and boating pictures on the walls. It’s a light hearted locale as I’m feeling today with Anastasia.

Dante recognizes me and immediately greets me.

“Mr. Grey!” he gushes. “What can I get you this afternoon?”

“Dante, good afternoon,” I grin, and we sit on the bar stools. “This lovely lady is Anastasia Steele.”

“Welcome to SP’s Place,” he says grinning. Dante is African-American, friendly, tall, and has one large diamond sparkling from his left ear.

“What would you like to drink, Anastasia?” Ana turns to look at me, questioning.

“Please, call me Ana, and I’ll have whatever Christian’s drinking,” she says with a shy smile.

“I’m going to have a beer. This is the only bar in Seattle where you can get Adnam’s Explorer,” I inform her.

“A beer?”

“Yes,” I respond grinning. “Two Explorers, please, Dante.” Our barman nods and immediately produces two bottles of beer and sets them before us.

“They do a delicious seafood chowder here,” I inform her. I really would like her to try. But I don’t want to tell her that. I want that to be her choice.

“Chowder sounds great,” she smiles.

“Two chowders?” Dante asks.

“Please,” I reply grinning.

Dante produces our bowls of chowder and it’s divine! First time in my life, I open up to someone, willingly. We start chatting about how I started my company, Grey Enterprises Holdings. What inspired me. I talk about my passion in fixing problem companies, developing new technologies, and making the land more productive for the third world. But I also want to know my girlfriend better.

“What’s Ray like?” I ask, and she delves into Ray, and her childhood. I question her why despite being a good father, her mother left him. She sighs, and talks about their characters and the eventual incomparability between the two. She talks about Montesano, and how she loved the forests, and green, making me smile as if it’s not green enough in Seattle.  She talks about her parents’ divorce, and her move to Texas and Vegas. I’m so grateful that she didn’t stay in those states. She bombards me with questions about my favorite movies, books and of course she already knows my taste in music. The more we talk, the more I’m amazed to find out how we’re part of each other. How we like the same things, and we can empathize with each other. Two people getting to know each other.

By the time we finish our meal, I don’t know how time flew by. It’s passed 2:00 p.m. in the afternoon. I pay the bill, and Anastasia and I leave the restaurant.

“This is a great place. Thank you for the lunch,” she says, as I take her hand and we leave the restaurant.

“We’ll come again,” I say, and we leisurely walk on the waterfront. “I wanted to show you something,” I say excited, looking forward to her reaction.

“I know...and I can’t wait to see it, whatever it is,” she replies.

As we walk along the marina, we see people on their last day of vacation and just spending time with family, children, walking their dogs, watching the boats, playing with their children, running along the promenade.

I lead her down to the marina where yachts are docked. I take her in front of my catamaran. It’s sizeable of course.

“I thought we’d go sailing this afternoon. (←Sailing by Rod Stewart)  This is my boat,” I say and I feel somehow shy about it, never having brought anyone here except of course my family. It’s actually fifty-two feet. It has two sleek white hulls, a deck, a large cabin, and a very tall mast.

“Wow!” is all she could say in awe.

“Built by my company,” I say proudly. In a way it’s my baby. “She’s been designed from the ground up by the very best naval architects in the world and constructed here in Seattle at my ship yard. She has hybrid electric drives, asymmetric dagger boards, a square-topped mainsail...” I start explaining, like an overly enthusiastic father who talks about little Johnny’s achievements.

“Okay... you’ve lost me, Christian,” Anastasia says unable to take all the information in. I can only grin in response. I dumb the info down. “She’s a great boat.”

“She looks might fine, Mr. Grey.”

“That she does, Miss Steele,” I respond.

“What’s her name?”

I take her hand, pull her to the side of the catamaran. In the big letters it says The Grace. Anastasia looks at me surprised. “You named her after your mom?”

“Yes,” I reply “Why do you find that strange?” She just shrugs in surprise. Maybe it’s my rigid demeanor around my mother. I have never been good at showing emotions. It’s a very new concept for me, but I still love my mother.

“I adore my mom, Anastasia. Why wouldn’t I name a boat after her?” She flushes, chagrined.

“No, it’s not that...it’s just..” she sighs trying to formulate her thoughts.

“Anastasia, Grace Trevelyan saved my life. I owe her everything.” In fact I wouldn’t be standing before Anastasia had it not been for my mother. She’s my savior. Anastasia finally takes a good look at my demeanor, and sees my reverence of my mother. She is in awe.

“Do you want to come aboard?” I ask enthusiastically.

“Yes, please,” she says her eyes alight with excitement.

I grasp her hand, and we walk over the gangplank and finally are aboard of my boat. We stand beneath the canopy for a little while. Anastasia takes in her surroundings. Seating for eight is available on the light blue banquette. She peers through the sliding doors to the interior of the cabin, and is startled by something. Mac, slides open the door coming out in his easy demeanor with his tall blonde, tanned and sea weathered skin. He’s in his faded pink short sleeve polo shirt, and shorts. Anastasia assesses his curly hair, brown eye, and his clothing. 

“Mac,” I say beaming. Mac is one of those people who are as close to a friend as they would get for me, with the exception of Dr. Flynn of course.

“Mr. Grey! Welcome back,” she says shaking hands with me.

“Anastasia, this is Liam McConnell. Liam, my girlfriend, Anastasia Steele,” I say by the way of introductions.

Anastasia beams as I mention her as my girlfriend warming my heart. She and I are both still getting used to the idea, but I know that I want her for much, much more.

“How do you do?” says Liam gathering his manners, and shakes Anastasia’s hand.

“Welcome aboard Miss Steele.”

“Ana, please,” she corrects him, blushing.

“How’s she shaping up, Mac?” I ask him about my boat.

“She’s ready to rock and roll, sir,” he says grinning.

“Let’s get underway, then.”

“You going to take her out?”

“Yep.” I reply Mac. “Quick tour, Anastasia?” I ask.

“Yes, please,” she beams.

I take Anastasia inside the cabin. She eyes the sofa, and then her eyes glide over the curved windows, and her breath hitches as she gazes over the panoramic view of the marina.

“This is the main saloon. Galley beside,” I point to the kitchen area.

I take my girlfriend’s hand, and lead her through the main cabin. She gazes at the pale wood floors, the modern and airy feel, clean, functional, and spacious.

“Bathrooms on either side,” I point to two doors, and then I open the door before us, and walk us into the bedroom. The bedroom sports a king size cabin bed, and with the tradition of the other décor, it’s pale blue linen and pale wood.  

“This is the master cabin,” I say gazing down at her after closing the door. “You’re the first girl in here, apart from my family,” I smirk, “But they don’t count.”

She flushes as she gazes up at me under my passionate stare. He lips part as she tries to suck in her breath to accommodate some emotion in her. I pull her into my arms, my fingers all tangled in her hair, I kiss her, long and hard, and lingering. She reciprocates, pulling me, tugging my hair, going to my ears, absently caressing my earlobes, and going back to my hair again. By the time we pull apart, both of us are breathless, and desirous.

“Might have to christen this bed,” I whisper against Anastasia’s mouth.

“But not right now. Come, Mac will be casting off,” I say taking Anastasia through the saloon, and pointing to another door I explain, “Office in there, and at the front here, two more cabins.”

“So how many can sleep on board?” she asks questioning.

“It’s a six-berth cat. I’ve only ever had the family on board, though. I like to sail alone. But not when you’re here. I need to keep an eye on you.”

I open up one of the chests, and grab a bright red lifejacket. An idea comes to me, and I grin. Anastasia, in nothing but this lifejacket, and a great big smile. Now, that’s hot!

“Here,” I say putting the jacket over her head, and tighten all the straps, as I contemplate the idea of her in this and nothing underneath. Some other time perhaps... Damn!

“You love strapping me in, don’t you?” she asks.

“In any form,” I say wickedly. What can I say? I can’t help it. I’m a very virile man, and I have a hot woman. There’s something sensual, exciting about strapping your woman, and having your way with her, and she trusting you with her body. Incredibly sensual, and damn fucking hot!

“You are a pervert,” she teases me. (←Everlong by Foo Fighters)

“I know,” I say raising my eyebrows, grinning.

“My pervert,” she whispers sweetly.

“Yes, yours,” I say finally tying her securely, and grab and pull her and kiss my woman. I make a mental not to use this in a scene though. It’s too sexy of an image to let go. “Always,” I breathe, and release her.

“Come,” I say grabbing her hand, leading her to upper deck, into the small cockpit. Mach is working the ropes at the prow of the boat.

“Is this where you learned all your rope tricks?” Anastasia asks me innocently.

“Clove hitches have come in handy,” I say appraising her expression. Does she want to be tied up? “Miss Steele, you sound curious. I like you curious baby. I’d be more than happy to demonstrate what I can do with a rope,” I smirk at her. Her expression changes to one of impassive. Oh, shit! She’s mad! What do I do?

“Gotcha!” she says grinning.

Oh, baby, you pull that shit on me, scaring me half to death. I have to see what I can do to rectify that situation. This can be fun.

“I may have to deal with you later, but right now, I’ve got to drive my boat,” I say sitting at the controls, bringing my boat to life with a roar.

Mac expertly jumps down to the deck below and starts unfastening one of the ropes, and moves onto another task. As Anastasia watches me in awe, I ease The Grace out of her berth and toward the marina entrance. People on the dock are watching our departure as this is one of the best looking boats in the marina. Anastasia waves back at the people with a smile on her face.

I look over to her, and pull her between my legs and show her the controls in the cockpit. “Grab the wheel,” I order.

“Aye, aye, captain,” she answers giggling.

I put my hands over hers, and steer our course out of the marina and onto the waters of Puget Sound. When we exit the marina, we can feel the wind, and the current roll and tug beneath us.

“Sail time,” I say, and grinning I hand Anastasia the wheel. “Here, you take her. Keep her on this course,” I say, and she is utterly horrified with the prospect, scared even. She gulps, her eyes wide, unable to string a simple sentence.

I reach up to her face, and hold it.

“Baby, it’s really easy. Hold the wheel and keep your eye on the horizon over the bow. You’ll do great; you always do. When the sails go up, you’ll feel the drag. Just hold her steady. I’ll signal like this” I show her motioning across my throat, “and you can cut the engines. This button here,” I point to the large black button which she can’t miss. “Understand?”

Her chest rises and falls rapidly, but she responds, “Yes,” while nodding frantically, panicked.

I kiss her quickly, and leave my captain’s chair for Anastasia to fill. I’m incredibly excited to bring Anastasia out here. I join Mac unfurling the sails. We untie the ropes, and operate winches and pulleys to get her sailing. Mac and I’ve done this many times before, so we don’t have to say much to know who needs to do what.

We finally manage to hoist the main sail, and it catches the wind and fills and billows into its grand size making the catamaran lurch forward. Then we run to the headsail, and it too finally files up the mast, catching the wind and stretching to its maximum width and length.

“Hold her steady, baby, and cut the engines!” I shout motioning her, and she does, nodding enthusiastically while gazing at me.

We are now sailing towards the Olympic Peninsula, gliding as if on air.

“Mac!”

“Yes, Mr. Grey,” he responds.

“Give me couple of hours with my girlfriend once we anchor, go ashore.”

“Yes, sir,” he says smiling; I nod and moves about his about. I walk back to the control room.

“What do you think?” I shout at Anastasia above the sound of the wind and the sea.

“Christian! This is fantastic!” she exclaims like a child who just discovered her favorite toy, making me beam ear to ear. “You wait until the spinney’s up,” I say pointing toward Mac who is now unfurling the spinnaker which is dark and rich red. One of my very favorite colors. Color of passion.

“Interesting color,” shouts Anastasia perfectly understanding me. I grin like a predator of course, and wink. Now, she knows too.

As the spinney balloons out into its large elliptical shape, it puts The Grace into overdrive. Anastasia is looking at it quizzically, not understanding its function.

“Asymmetrical sail. For speed,” I explain.

“It’s amazing,” she says awed.

Anastasia has a huge grin on her face, and as we head towards the Olympic Mountains and Bainbridge Island, the city of Seattle shrinks behind us. Everything is simply beautiful out here. Green, lush, tall evergreens, and the cliffs standing against the cold beating of the ocean, stoic. Blue seas, and clear skies with my woman at my behest; just a patch of heaven. (←Patch of Heaven sung by KD Lang)

“How fast are we going?”

“She’s doing 15 knots.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“It’s about 17 miles an hour,” I explain.

“Is that all? It feels so much faster?” It’s the wide expanse of the sea. I squeeze Anastasia’s hand. She just takes my breath away, all quizzical, learning, experiencing, and completely curious. “You look lovely, Anastasia. It’s good to see some color in your cheeks . . . and not from blushing. You look like you do in José’s photos,” to which she responds with a lingering kiss.

“You know how to show a girl a good time, Mr. Grey.”

“We aim to please, Miss Steele,” I respond as I scoop her hair out of the way and kiss the back of her neck, warming her up for what’s to come later.

“I like seeing you happy,”

I hold Anastasia in my arms as we sail, and she puts her head on my chest, and out of all the storms we have been experiencing lately. Though we’re in the eye of the storm as nothing resolved as far as Leila is concerned, at this moment in this bubble we created here on my boat, it’s calm and peaceful.

*****

About an hour later, we are anchored in a small cove off Bainbridge Island, one of my favorite spots to sail. Mac goes to shore as I asked him earlier, and that’s my cue. I grab Anastasia’s hand and practically drag her to my cabin as I don’t want to waste one single minute without being in her.

I stand before Anastasia, a man with a singular purpose, completely enamored with her, and intoxicated by her beauty. I quickly untie her lifejacket, and toss it on to the side without a single glance in its direction. I have my desert, and I aim to claim it. I gaze at my woman intently with dark desirous wanton eyes.

I bring my hands up to her face, and with the slightest of touches, I linger on her face with the tips of my fingers. She takes small shallow breaths. My fingers move to the column of her throat, to her sternum, and to the first button of her shirt.

“I want to see you,” I breathe, and unbutton the first button; she parts her lips to gasp, already full of desire and ready to jump me. I lean down and kiss her parted lips. She’s already panting, and aroused. I like her seeing burning hot for me.

“Strip for me,” I whisper, with burning eyes.

Without breaking her gaze from mine, she slowly, leisurely opens one button. My eyes are on fire, only reflecting what’s in my soul. She moves onto the next button, and then the next, and finally she’s got the shirt undone. With a slight shake of her shoulders, she lets the shirt fall onto the floor. Her fingers reach to undo her jeans.

“Stop,” I order her. “Sit.”

She sits on the edge of the bed, and I’m on my knees, undoing the laces of her Converse shoes. First one, and then the other, pulling of each shoe, followed by her socks. I pick her left foot up, raise it to my eye level and first plant a soft kiss on the pad of her big toe, then without breaking my gaze from her eyes, I graze her toe with my teeth.

“Ah!” moans Anastasia feeling the pull in her groin. I smile, and stand up, pulling her onto her feet, I order, “Continue,” and stand back to watch her.

She lowers the zipper of her jeans down, and hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans, and glides her jeans down her legs. Baby, you are sweet! Making a show for me. I try to hide my pleasure, but my smile creeps up, but desire never leaves my eyes. As she steps out of her jeans, she reveals her white lacy thong and her matching bra that just juts her breasts up as if thrusting into my hands. So fucking sexy! Without breaking her gaze, in one sexy move, she reaches back, and unhooks her bra. As she’s holding the cups, she slides the straps down and drops the bra off on top of her shirt. She hooks her thumbs to her panties, and with an expert ease, she slides them down to her ankles, and steps out of the gracefully.

Oh God! She is a sexy goddess! I am in love with this woman! What good have I done to deserve this? I have to make love to her. I have to have her, hold her, fuck her, and claim her all over again to be mine, on every fucking surface I own!

I reach down and pull my sweater off, then my t-shirt without taking my gaze away from Anastasia. I quickly take my shoes and socks off, then I reach down to open my fly, but Anastasia reaches over, and whispers:

“Let me.” (←You Were Meant For Me by Jewel)

I exhale a breath to preserve my calm without jumping her. “Be my guest,” I say smiling.

She steps towards me, and slips her fingers inside my jeans’ waistband, and tugs me toward her, and I’m a step closer, making me gasp at her taking the lead like this; I smile. She undoes the top button, and without even zipping my jeans down, she lets her finger move over my jeans tracing my sizeable erection. I flex my hips into her anxious palms, and close my eyes, losing myself in the ecstasy of the feeling.

“You’re getting so bold, Ana, so brave,” I whisper, and bend down to kiss her deeply. She moves her hand over my half open jeans, and places her hand half way over my bare hips and half on my jeans, she whispers, “So are you,” against my lips. She moves her thumbs in slow, lazy, and small circles on my skin, making me smile. Yes, I’m getting braver, too. Only because of her.

“Getting there,” I whisper.

She moves her hand to the front of my jeans, and pulls the zipper down, and her hands move down on my happy trail onto my erection, and she grasps my length tightly.

A low, guttural, pleasure sound makes its way out. We are so close; I grasp her into my arms, and as our breaths comingle, I kiss her again, but with slow ease, and love. Pouring out my soul to her with my kiss, stating what I’m unable to express with words. She too emboldened; moving her hands over my body in the safe zone, holding me tight. And my arms snake around her, my right hand is flat against her back, my fingers splayed as my left hand moves into her hair, fixing it to the ministrations of my mouth.

“Oh, I want you so much, baby, it hurts,” I breathe. (←Have I told You Lately by Rod Stewart)  This is all I can take without making love to her. I immediately pull away to take my jeans and boxers off, and now we are both nude, nothing hidden, neither in body, nor in soul to have and to hold. Anastasia’s gaze changes to one of sorrow.

“What’s wrong, Ana?” I get to her, worried, stroking her cheek with my knuckles.

“Nothing. Just love me, now.”

With her declaration, I pull Anastasia into my arms, kissing her, my hands in her hair. Lips merge, tongues are in a tango of their own, sucking and teasing, and dancing. I walk my woman backward to the bed, gently lowering her, and I lie down beside her. My nose running along her jawline, inhaling her unique scent, heady, intoxicating, arousing, I’m in ecstasy.

“Do you have any idea how exquisite your scent is, Ana? It’s irresistible.”

She can only look at me in awe, reverence, and complete, utter, unspoiled love. How can I resist this potion? I trail my nose down to her throat, over her breasts kissing, trailing, and committing her scent to memory.

“You are so beautiful,” I murmur as I trail over one of her breasts kissing, and taking her nipple into my mouth and gently sucking. Her back bows off the bed, and she lets out an involuntary moan.

“Let me hear you, baby,” I say.

My hands trail down to her wait as my mouth lingers and worships her breast with my lips, sucking, licking, nipping, caressing, stroking, loving... My finger trail down to her waist, over to her delectable hips, to her round orbs of buttocks, as my mouth is lost in the taste of her breasts. My body is pure attention, aroused, desirous and I need to be in her.

I grasp Anastasia’s knee, and hitch it up, I wrap it around my hips, creating my access to her blooming sex, making Anastasia gasp with pure carnal desire, and her reaction raises my desire for her tenfold, and make me grin on her skin. I wrap myself around Anastasia, and roll over, have her straddle me, in riding position. I hand her a packet of condom.

Anastasia moves back to accommodate my substantial length and taking my manhood in her hands she strokes the every pulsing vein and hard ridge. To my surprise, she bends down, and kisses my cock, and takes me in her mouth. Her lips make a swirling motion, going around the tip, and my length, and sucking, hard. Oh, God! I groan and can’t resist and flex my hips into her greedy mouth as she sucks me deep in her mouth, in and out. Licking, tasting, she sheaths me with her lips, up and down.

She finally sits up and gazes at me. This woman can single handedly mind fuck me, make me desire her, torture me with one of her looks, bring me to the brink of ecstasy, and to the peaks of pleasure. I’m awed, and breathless, helpless but to watch her.

She rips the packet as if there is no tomorrow, and sheaths my length with it. I hold my hand out to her to help her position herself over me, and she slowly descends over my manhood as she claims me her own. I fill her in, and feel her muscles squeeze around my cock and sensations ripple through my manhood to all over my body making me groan, a guttural sound deep in my throat. I place my hands around her hips and lead her movements up and down as I flex my hips to consume her from within.

“Oh, baby,” I whisper, and suddenly sit up to be nose to nose with my woman, and I am as deep as I can possibly be in her feeling every muscle surround my manhood, filling her to the brim. She gasps with the sensation of fullness, grasping my upper arms, moving. I grab her head in my hands and gaze into her, feel her every movement, every flickering desire, every carnal need and want, and my eyes mirror hers perfectly.

“Oh, Ana. What you make me feel,” I whisper, and kiss her with the intensity of my desire for her, most ardently. She kisses me back; we are connected at every possible point, making love, united body and soul. I am buried deep in her, feeling her, kissing her, holding her as she is moving up and down on my length. We are so close, I can touch her soul.

“Oh, I love you,” I murmur, and groan with the feeling of unworthiness, a tortured feeling. (←I Would Do Anything For Love by Meatloaf)  But I want to be worthy of her. Of my woman. My woman! I have to be the one claiming her now, and with one swift move, I roll over and take her under me without breaking any contact between us. She wraps her legs around my hips allowing me remain deep inside her. I adore her, and love her, and desire her. The feeling is so palpable so, strong and all consuming, I start moving and let the feelings take over me as I close my eyes. I moan with the pleasure consuming me.

My boat gently sways in the water, almost mimicking my movement inside her sex perfectly. No sound of any kind other than our passionate breathing, and I savor her at this moment, the first time in my boat, slowly, at a leisurely pace, loving her. I put my arms around her head, and move my hands in her hair, caressing her face, admiring her beauty and basking in our lovemaking, and feeling overcome, I kiss her.

At this moment, we are one; body and soul. Two pieces finally found each other, cocooning, loving, savoring... Anastasia’s hands move into my hair, pulling me to her, demanding, wanting more of me, trying to consume me. Her hands move to my lower back in small circles. Her breathing starts accelerating rapidly as my rhythm bring her to the brink of the peaks of pleasure. My lips move onto her mouth ferociously, sucking and kissing, moving onto her chin and her jaw and nibbling her ear. I want to be all over the place all at once. My breathing increases as the pleasure mounts within me. We both start quivering; right there, almost, almost... the peak is in sight... She pushes her hips in synchronization with my movement, riding the feeling a little longer...getting higher and higher... and we are at the peak as I feel all her muscles inside her clench and tighten with her approaching orgasm.

“That’s right, baby...Give it up for me...Please...Ana,” I murmur, and she is overcome.

“Christian,” she shouts my name as if in a prayer, a litany upon her lips, and I groan hard, and we both come and undone in total ecstasy. At this moment, I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.

Hi Everyone! Thank you for patiently waiting for this chapter. Next update will be upcoming Friday. I have a large book translation I'm starting today, and it'll keep me busy as it's very technical and with a five week deadline. I will update once a week until it's completed. Please bear with me!