BOOK II - CHAPTER XVIII - Christian and Anastasia Fan Fiction

WAIT ANOTHER DAY...

CHAPTER XVIII

“But Christian, why aren’t we... you know in there?” Anastasia asks significantly. How do I explain what her presence in the playroom makes me feel like? Outside of the door of the playroom, I stop and turn around to look Anastasia; my face pained, already overwhelmed with what happened this evening...And going in there, into the room where I had my biggest heartbreak is not something I can handle tonight.

I sigh and lock gazes with Anastasia. I shake my head; hold her face in my hand.

“Anastasia, I’m not ready to go in there with you... not even if you are. When we were in there not so long ago, you left me. Even though I keep telling...” I say sighing. The thought of it, the stress with fresh memories of her leaving me, and the aftermath...

“Don’t you understand what it makes me feel?”

Words are failing me expressing what I feel...the worry and fear that gripped me, and the desperation and immense pain of loss when she walked out of this door... I close my eyes to push the image away from my thoughts. When I open them back again, the pain is still present. Gesturing around with my hand I say, “...with you leaving, my entire approach, my attitude has changed.” My world has changed.

“My perspective on life...on my life particularly, fundamentally changed directions. It’s been a radical shift and I’ve already talked to you about this. But, there is something I have not told you...” I say looking at her worried. Exasperation, confusion, and difficulty expressing my feelings overwhelm me. I run a hand through my hair as if to wipe these feelings away.

I finally open my mouth having formed a few coherent sentences in my head to convey how I feel. “The only comparison I can draw is like a recovering alcoholic, alright? I know the compulsion to do what I’m accustomed is gone,” I say in a single breath. Though after today, I don’t want to temp that compulsion. I don’t even want to give it a chance to stick its ugly head out.

“What I’m trying to tell you is, that I don’t want to make way to temptation... in there,” I say jabbing my thumb in the direction of the playroom. “I don’t ever want to hurt you, Ana.” And that’s the plain truth. No matter how mad I may get at her, I don’t want to hurt her. I can’t bear it! I already have a lot of guilt for having done what I have. I can’t erase that. But I don’t have to repeat the experience, or make way to it.

She looks worried. Maybe worried that a lot of other things we could do would be gone along with the punishment, but it’s not true. What is gone is only the punishment. Hurting her would hurt me.

“Ana, I can’t bear to hurt you, because I love you,” I confess, looking at her face willing her to understand me. Understand what I feel for her. The simple fact is, she’s my life. She’s engrained in my soul.

Anastasia takes me by surprise by hurling herself at me and I have to drop the spreader bar onto the stairs just in time to capture her in my arms. The force of her weight pushes me to the wall, and her hands reach up to my face, effectively capturing it, she pulls my face down, and merges her lips with mine, forcing her tongue into my mouth. She pushes her body flush with mine, her hands traveling into my hair, pulling and twisting while her lips are sucking my tongue. What the fuck! My libido just shots up off the charts, and I’m ready to fuck her right here, right now! Agh! I don’t want her to be accidentally seen by Taylor or Mrs. Jones. I groan and push her slightly away from me. One more second of this and I will have no self-control; my breathing is ragged as if I ran a marathon. Though, the only marathon I want to be currently involved in is climbing on her!

“Anastasia, if you keep up with this, I’m going to fuck you on the stairs whether you want to be fucked here or not!” I say in a dark gaze.

“Yes!” she breathes with a desirous take-me-now, gaze. For a minute, I feel indecisive; I want to take her right here, and come hell or high water, I won’t care who sees us! But my jealousy of anyone seeing her in that position, in the throes of passion boils my blood. That’s for me and for me alone! No fucking way! Desire is still paramount, and I will have her, but not on the stairs.

“No. I’m not fucking you here! I’m taking you to my bed,” I say and not waiting another second I scoop her off the floor, and take her over my shoulders like a Neanderthal carrying his woman, and she gives a loud squeal which earns her a hard smack on her delectable derrière which also eases my earlier anger at her. I walk down the stairs, and lean down and pick the spreader bar from the floor where it came to a stop after I dropped it, anxious to try it out on her. 

I can hardly make it to my bedroom fast enough. After all that has happened this evening, and thank God that no harm came to her, I feel instant relief and set Anastasia down and drop the spreader bar onto the bed. Still focused on what had worried me in the playroom, Anastasia whispers:

“I don’t believe you’ll hurt me Christian.”

“I won’t hurt you,” I say passionately, having barely have made through the stairs into my room, and immediately take her face within the confines of my hands kissing her hard, desperately, passionately, and intensely. The desire to have her, touch her, and make love to her is unbearable. After a shitty day like today, all I want to do is to lose myself in her.

“I want you... desperately,” I breathe against her mouth between kisses, panting hard. But I won’t push my way into her. The concern over what happened today and what she may feel is holding me back. This must be her decision. “Anastasia,” I say making her look at me. “Are you absolutely sure about this baby?” I ask. “Even after what happened today?”

A firm, “Yes,” is her answers. “I want you, and I want you now. I want to undress you Christian,” she says desperately. Apprehension creeps up at me again. Undressing involves touching. Normally I would have more control... But tonight, after all that happened, I’m still agitated, still taking effort to control myself. But this is Ana. I’d do it for her. I’d do almost anything for her.

“Okay,” I acquiesce. The fear demons wake up with their snarling faces in my mind. As Anastasia’s fingers slowly reach to the second button on my shirt, the demon with its gleaming eyes, and unknown face who seems to be residing in the dark corners of my soul pokes its pitchfork of fear into my heart and I have to take a sharp intake of breath. I can’t let fear win. Can’t let it take hold over me, over what we have.

Anastasia slowly retracts her hand halfway back and it’s indecisively hanging in midair, unable or unwilling to touch. “If you don’t want me to touch, I won’t touch you Christian,” she whispers softly. If I don’t let her touch me now, I’d be letting my fear win; the fear with the obscured face of a demon gleams victoriously in the eyes of my mind. I can’t let our past wins be lost with this fear... The truth is, I want her to touch me. I’m desperate for the connection, needy in fact. Desirous even. But this fucking fear is always showing its ugly face. The hope of “us” is the only thing that is holding me upright here. Hope is stronger than fear. Us...Anastasia and me...Us. No fear... No fear... No fear... I chant in my head, and respond her immediately.

“No! Do it. I’m fine. I’m good... It’s ok,” I mutter in quick succession. I swallow hard, trying to pass a boulder through my esophagus as if it was possible.

One step. Shallow breaths. Breathe in. Breathe out. She opens the second button. Another step... small steps. Breathe in, breathe out. My eyes fixed on her. I make a small ‘o’ with my lips to exhale my breath. One more step...  One more button. After she unbuckles the third button, she looks up, and then slightly blows on my poking chest hair. Sensual and scary at the same time.

“I want to kiss you here,” she says blowing another small breath to the exposed hair on my chest, in such a way that I won’t confuse where she wants to kiss me.

“Kiss me?” I ask in a stressed tone. My heart is palpitating, the demon is jabbing his pitchfork, tines buried to the stump, twisting painfully in my heart! It’s just Ana... It’s just Ana... It’s just my love.

“Yes,” I murmur agreeing.

Twisting, and twisting hard. Fear branches and grips inside my heart like the tines of devil’s pitchfork making me gasp for air. She leans in inch by inch. Her intent is clear. My initial reaction would be to jump back, run away, and push her away. This is Ana... This is Ana... This is Ana! I remind myself. She reaches down and finally plants a soft gentle kiss like the touch of a butterfly among the curls of my chest hair as I hold my breath, and hold very very still. Then she undoes the last button, and looks up at me victoriously. I...was afraid. But, it felt good. Great even to have her lips on my chest. Fearful, yes. But definitely great. What is she doing to me? What kind of black magic is this? Oh, Ana... What you do to me, how you change me. She’s my angel...my savior from my personal demons. My more...

“It’s a bit easier, isn’t it?” she asks in a whisper. I nod, completely mesmerized with what she’s doing. It’s a simple, innocent, yet a sensual, sexy as hell task. I’m in awe of her. In awe of us! Individually we’re not significant. But together, we’re ‘us’.  And what that is, is simply magnificent. How has she changed me, morphed me into being touchable. A shudder courses through me.

“What do you do to me, Ana? How have you changed me? Whatever you’re doing, whatever that is, please don’t stop,” I murmur completely amazed, completely in love, completely wrapped in her magic.  I am in love with what she is, who she is, what she does to me. Completely captivated! I can’t think of anything but her, especially right now. The mere inches of distance is too great for me, and I immediately pull her into the safety of my arms, holding her tight, inhaling her scent. My nose travels down to her eyes, to her nose, and finally my lips descend on hers, and desire courses through me, taking over my body. I capture her hair in both my hands, and as I almost forcefully yank it down, her head lifts up, lips apart, desirous, inviting, and accessible.

Who am I to not to oblige her? I dip my head down and start running my lips over her face, teasing, only stopping on her lips for a few seconds, then I softly nibble on her jaw which drives her crazy and her reaction makes me hot and needy, ready to jump out of my skin to have her. I groan loudly, and that does something to Ana. We just feed on each other’s responses and get lost in them. Anastasia’s hands are at my hips trying to undo my button and unzip me in a hurried clumsiness as she’s too desirous to keep her hands steady, but she manages it.

A groan escapes my lips, as my erection is trying to force its way out of my pants and the boxers. “Oh, baby,” groan with desire as I kiss her. Anastasia’s hand dips into my pants, making me gasp with a pleasant surprise. Having unzipped me, she grabs a hold of my waist and yanks both my pants and the boxers forcefully, setting me free, and dropping to her knees, and takes me into her mouth!

“Whoa, Ana!”

I’m completely shocked, as my jaw drops open with the way she takes charge, and takes me into the pleasurable captivity of her mouth. Sheathing me completely she sucks...hard; I’m lascivious, wanton, and also completely mesmerized with her lips on my manhood. I’m in heavenly carnal pleasure... Oh, what I want to do to you, Miss Steele! I can reciprocate... Agh! I groan. She sucks. And sucks relentlessly! Fucking sexy! I’m mesmerized with her. As if I’m watching her, both within and outside of my body. What an experience! She pulls in deep, and for a moment mouth completely sheaths me, and as she’s pulling back, she slightly grazes me with her teeth while her tongue is stroking, and my eyes roll back in sheer pleasure.

“Fuck, Ana!” I hiss through my teeth barely containing myself; I find myself holding her head and I flex my hips in response to her pull, and lost deep within her mouth. I don’t even know who’s fucking who... I just want to take her down, and be the one in control. I don’t want to come just yet. I try to pull back to take her instead, but she grabs my ass with her hands and holds me firmly as she keeps sucking.

“Ana, please... If you don’t stop now, I’m gonna come!” I groan. Do I want to come in her mouth now? I’m lost, unable to think straight. I want to be on top of her, inside her, yet, I can’t seem to... I’m lost... too close. She swirls her tongue on my tip, and that pushes the scale, and I come into her mouth shouting her name, and the orgasm goes through in crashing waves all over my body rippling through me. She takes, and swallows in everything I had to give her. Once the shudders subside I manage to open my eyes to look at her, and she’s smiling at me as she licks her lips. Oh baby! So that’s your game! I grin at her salaciously, and bend down and lift her up to her feet, and immediately cover her lips with mine, and the realization that my smell, my taste, my seeds are all over her. I have marked her; or rather she marked herself with me. That’s sexy as hell!

“I can taste myself in your mouth, and baby, that makes you taste better,” I whisper salaciously into her lips between kisses. That’s about all I can take without bursting; I yank off her t-shirt and carelessly toss it into the corner of the room, then I grab my woman and toss her onto our bed. She’s on her back naked from the waist up, so, bent on getting her naked all the way, I lift her legs up and pull her sweatpants off. Yes! She’s one beautiful package. Naked, innocent, but desirous, and there’s nothing more sexy or hotter than a woman who is in love with you, wanting you, waiting for you, and the feelings are mutual! I make my intentions known to her. She’s beyond hot for me. Lifting her head up slightly, resting on her elbows she says, “You are one beautiful man Christian and taste delicious,” making me grin.

Baby, you have no idea how I’m going to reciprocate your amorous assault... I’m thinking in kind, but my own brand, and style. I take the spreader bar, and cuff her left ankle first making sure it’s not too tight or uncomfortable. There is still a finger’s room between the cuff and her ankle. My gaze is not leaving hers, and I can see it in her eyes that she’s assessing my expertise with the spreader bar. I give her a wicked grin in response.

“I’m anxious to taste you again Miss Steele. Because I remember you being an exceptional and an exquisite delicacy, baby,” I say as our gazes remain locked. I take her other ankle and cuff it with the same expertise. Her legs are currently only two feet apart, but that can be rectified.

“You know Anastasia, one of the best things about this spreader is that it’s expandable,” I say as stretch the bar from the joints, spreading her legs to be three feet apart. Anastasia just gapes at her spread legs testing the wide gap by trying to flex her feet. She gives up unable to close them. Her sex blooms like an inviting rose. Her breathing increases; she’s restless, she wants me to get on with it, but I will take my time. The ball is at my court now, baby!

“Oh baby, we are going to have a lot of fun with this,” I say as I hold the bar; and with a simple twist, I roll Anastasia to her front easily, and effectively. It’s a great toy; gives me lots of control which of course I love. I can feel both the excitement and surprise palpitating through her.

“Do you see what I can do with this little device?” I murmur carnally. I twist it once more, and her front is facing me again. Anastasia is breathless and surprised at the amount of control this simple tool gives me. And though I can’t spank Anastasia for punishment, I can do a whole a lot with sex; and man, I know how to turn it into the great tool of both pleasure and punishment. I hold the cuffs that are designed for her wrists, and tell her that I may put them or leave them depending on whether she behaves or not.

“Behave? I always behave. When did I not behave?” she protests. She has such short memory when it comes to her transgressions.

“I can think of a few infractions,” I say softly as I run my fingers up her soles, and her insteps. The sensation my touch evokes, goes down to the hotline of her groin. She squirms to get out, of course, but I have the control now.

“You have not used your Blackberry, that’s an infraction,” I say exposing one of the sore spots I have had with her earlier. She realizes that it may be punishment time, gasping.

“What are you gonna do?” she asks as her breathing increases.

“Baby, I never reveal my plans,” I say smirking. Finally the opportunity to get my dues lights up my eyes. I quickly divest myself of my remaining clothes, and I’m between her legs, kneeling already. She’s spread open, gloriously naked, sexy as hell, and all within my grasp. My eyes never leave hers, and she’s writing in anticipation; curiously, and expectantly. Anticipation is a prequel for a great sex. It all happens in your mind. I want her to think of possibilities of what I might do to her... What indeed?

“This is all about anticipation, Ana. Think of what I will, what I can do to you... Anticipate,” I say softly; my words are caressing her, sinking in, and making her want me, desire me, and connect with me at a higher level than just raw sex. I know it’s getting through to her because she’s already moaning, and that’s my cue. My fingers start their ministrations, relentlessly arousing her by moving, caressing, touching on her legs and backs of her knees where they are sensitive, and arousal is almost instantaneous for her. She tries to close her legs by instinct, but they won’t budge, obviously. I want to do more, and push her to her limit, get my due, and claim her, regain control, but only with her permission. She comes first. I remind her that. “Baby, I want you to remember that if there’s something you don’t like, please tell me to stop, and I will,” I murmur while continuing my sweet assaults.

She’s too lost in anticipation to refuse. I slowly bend over, and start kissing her belly softly, and only around her belly. I slowly kiss and suck and nip her while my hands captivate her legs and continue on their northward ministrations upon her legs and her inner thighs with soft touches; taunting her, teasing, making her want more, and beg for a completion.

“Christian!” she begs, “please, oh, please...” she moans pleading.

“Oh, Anastasia... I’m only returning the favor of your amorous assaults upon me. You can be quite merciless when it comes to what you want to do, baby,” I murmur softly between kisses. She doesn’t protest anymore, just lets herself loose within the pleasures I’m about to deliver her as her hands clawing the sheets. My mouth goes down to the line of her belly and her pubic bone, and blow softly as I tease her of what’s to come. My fingers make their way up to the apex and into her blooming sex, and she unexpectedly lifts her hips up to meet my fingers. Her reaction makes me even more desirous for her making me moan, and I sink my fingers knuckle deep in her circling, and she’s hot and wet for me. “Baby you never stop amazing me. Always so wet for me,” I say and with that, I dip my head into her sex.

My tongue finds her tasty pink stub and as my fingers continue their explorations inside of her, my tongue slowly and torturously pleasure the folds of her bloom. Because her legs are spread apart, she has no option but to absorb all of the pleasure. She arches her back to spread the intensity of her sensations, but unable to fulfill.

“Christian!” she cries out. I know she’s reaching her limits of handling the intensity of her approaching orgasm.

“I know, baby, I know,” I say taking pity on her, and easing up on my assaults, and softly and slowly blow on the tip of her exposed sex, sending shivers down to her spine.

“Argh! Please, now!” she begs for completion.

“Say my name!” I order her. I need to have her recognize, and accept who is dominating her right now. Who is her man? I want to hear it from her! I want to own her body and soul, just like she owns me...

“Christian!” she screams in a high pitched, wanton voice. Her body responds me before her mind can, and I love that about her. My name in her lips is like a magic litany calling me to her, beckoning me. It’s a surrendering supplication. Nothing is sexier than my name upon her lips right now!

“Say it again!” I say hoarsely.

“Christian! Christian! Christian! Christian Grey!” She yells in a declaration that I own her! I’m her man! I alone; no one else!

“You.Are.Mine!” I growl with a deep guttural sound, raw and emotional after all the shit we’ve been thought this evening! And a swirl and a dip of my tongue into her sex pushes her into her orgasm in strong ripples, coursing through her repeatedly without any way to disperse, or absorb because of her spread out legs. As she’s still shuddering with the remnants of her pleasure, I flip her to her front.

We haven’t tried this one before, but I want to see if she can handle it. “This is new baby, and I want to try this with you. If you dislike it at all, or that it’s not comfortable for you, tell me, and we’ll stop immediately.” Then I tell her to keep her head and chest on the bed. I take her hands and cuff each one to the bar next to her ankles. It’s an awkward, and a vulnerable position, but sexy and incredibly glorious. Her ass is up in the air, inviting, and she is incredibly beautiful. I run my fingers down through her spine, and when I get to her ass, I declare her that I want to claim it, too. In fact, I want all of her, when she’s ready. My fingers gently probe her, and she gasps.

“I’m not claiming it today baby. But one day, I want you every way possible. I want to...I need to possess every inch of you. You’re all mine, baby,” I say fervently. She is only mine. The desire, and the inviting folds of her sex, and her moans are like siren’s call, pulling me in, and I find my cock slamming into her. Because she’s completely open and wide, her sex is absorbing all of my considerable length, all at the same time, making her cry out, “gentle! Argh! Gentle!” she groans. And I stop. Is it too hard for her?

“Are you okay?” I ask her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Be gentle first... I need to get used to this,” she says. I’m pleased that she’s communicating her needs, wants, and limits with me. I slowly easy out of her, gently and with minimal impact, and slowly ease back into her inch by inch, slowly stretching her as I fill her sex up. I gently ease out of her once again, and slowly and gently fill and stretch her sex. When I ease out of her once again, I gyrate my hips as I ease back into her and feel her getting softer, stretch to accommodate my cock, welcoming me into her sex.

“It’s good, I’m ok. I’ve got it now,” she murmurs, and my rhythm increases with her declaration. I hold her hips with both hands, and start moving, really moving in her. She moans with the intensity of the sensation she’s feeling, not being able to close her legs, but she thrust her hips back to meet my cock, increasing the licentious desire in me even more. My hands squeeze her buttocks, and I guide her to me.

I plunge again and again into her with a measured pace, and with each thrust I am staking my claim on Anastasia; a claim that says she's mine, and mine alone. My rhythm quickens as I feel Anastasia's approaching peak with her muscles inside her sex start contracting and with a quickened pace I slam into her several times with sharp thrusts and Anastasia comes loudly with my name is on her lips and her pleasure is enough to push me to my peak. I come with a sharp cry of ecstasy that vibrates through me, shaking me to the core and jolts Anastasia through our connection. As the waves of orgasm stills slowly, I cry out her name once more, “Ana, baby!” Replete, and sated, I collapse next to her.

I untie the cuff and straps binding Anastasia to the stretcher bar, setting her free, and quickly pull her into my arms, and ready to hold her in my embrace. Tired, and worked out, Anastasia drifts into deep sleep in my arms. I watch her in her sleep. The worry of how I could have lost her within the last two days weighs heavy on me. Fates, I feel are after her... Or maybe after me through her.  But, I don't want to let my demons peak their head again when she's right here, within the protection of my arms. Her face glistens with sweat of our lovemaking, and her hair freely falls around her face. I gently push it away, and watch her innocence in her slumber, and her easy breathing. She's lovely; in fact angel like. Like heaven sent, specifically for me. For this unworthy man. 

What Hyde had said comes to my mind angering me... “If you didn't have more money than I, she'd be fucking me now! Instead I'm the one who's holding the balls she kicked!” Anastasia loves me. She's with me for love! Even though I don't deserve it. She loves me! Hard to wrap that concept around my head. But I love her too, with all intensity of my heart. That ought to count for something. She's my heart, my soul, my life; my first and last thought of the day. She's everything to me. Here she lies in my arms. Beautiful, innocent, heaven sent. I'm fit for nothing; not the likes of her, but, fuck! I love her, I want her, and I'm a selfish man. I want her to be in my life always. If she was to deny me--deny being with me, I know it would ruin me. When I nearly murdered that fucker today, all I could think was how he tried to have her, touch her, claim her as his own. It made me insane... The rage I felt was beyond anything I have ever felt. I possibly could have killed him had he been successful in trying to rape her, or claim her in anyway. 

In the back of my mind, though I pushed it down, if I had to be gone even for a short while because of killing that fucker, the thought of someone else having her burned through my soul. It stopped me, I think. She's made for me alone, and I for her. 

Anastasia may be an ordinary girl for someone else. But not for me. What I have felt for her since the beginning I now realize is what I tried to deny. I love her to distraction; she's everything I need, and want. Without her I feel like I'm swallowed up in a dark abyss where I can't find myself, and with her, it's her love that's driving me to distraction. I was in love with her before I had sense enough to recognize it. I love her madly. Mad enough to kill to protect her. And now here she is... safe in my arms. Mine. She moves and turns in my arms waking up distracting me from my thoughts. 

Her eyes sleepily blink a few times, still too tired and barely able to keep them open. When her baby blues meet mine under her lashes, she smiles, tries to shift in my arms, but I can see that she still feels as if she's boneless, totally spent.

“I could watch you sleep like this forever, baby,” I whisper afraid to jolt her completely awake, and kiss her lightly.

“I never want to let you go,” I say reflecting what I have been feeling, and wrap my arms around her tighter. The truth is, I can't let her go. She said she can't live without me. What about me? I can't live without her. How can one without one's life, without his soul?

She murmurs sleepily... “Don't ever let me go. Because I never want to go,” she whispers before sleep claims her again.

“I need you, Ana,” more than you'll ever know. 

I whisper in her ears, as she's already deep asleep..

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride:  I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest in my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” I quote her the sonnet of Pablo Neruda.  This is me...all of me; good and bad, fucked up and immature, loving and jealous to the point of murderous rage sometimes. But I am completely and irrevocably in love with her, and trying to be worthy of her. Trying to establish a goal, look for a place I'd like to be, like Dr. Flynn said. That place includes her; my ideal place is where she exists, even if she drives me insane most the time, and mind fucks me when she doesn't listen to me, and almost constantly disobedient, sometimes utterly independent – so much so that she makes me pull my own hair, and get me out of my mind! But she loves me. Me! And I her. Everything about her is refreshing, new, and captivating. She branded my soul. The thought makes me smile, and I too drift asleep, holding the woman I love.

********

The advantage of waking up next to Ana is that she's readily accessible.  My mind and body are constantly focused on her. I wake up with the sun’s first rays of light are dawning through the city of Seattle easing into my bedroom. I find myself nuzzling her neck, kissing and nipping it sensually. This is my wake up call for her. Her eyes crack open.

“Good morning, baby,” I whisper as I continue to suck and nip on her earlobe. My fingers find her naked body, and as my hands slowly travel to her breasts, I continue with my ministrations of her jaw and her lips. My cock is stretching into a thick rope pushing onto her hips.

“You seem to be pleased to see me, Mr. Grey,” she mutters sleepily, as she pushes her hips against me, and gyrates in a demanding gesture. Oh baby, I aim to please. I love her being next to me, in my bed, every night. Not only because I want to be in her all the time, I want her to want me, too. Take me, love me, fuck me, take advantage of me excessively! I'm all hers as she's mine.

“Yes, I am pleased to see you. More and more I find advantages of waking up next to you, Anastasia,” I say as I pull her on her back so I can have full access of her body. “Did you sleep well, baby?” I ask unable to help but to smile at her as my fingers slowly and sensually continue to tease her as they continue on their journey down towards her sex. Already eager to accept my fingers, she lifts her hips up and two of my fingers enter into the folds of her sex. My lips find hers and I start kissing her slowly, sensually; moving down to her neck, my tongue grazing, my lips sucking, and nipping, I make my way down towards her twin peaks. She moans with every single touch, so receptive, so ready, we’re made for each other! I ease and dip one finger inside her finding it so wet, so aroused, I moan. “Oh, baby, you’re always so ready for me,” I whisper hoarsely and ease another finger into her, slowly and rhythmically swirl them inside her.

As my fingers explore and conquer her from within, my lips continue on a journey of their own kissing and sucking, reaching to her breast. My lips reach and suck one of her nipples, swirling my tongue around it, and slightly nipping, and tugging with my teeth making her moan. Then I move onto the next breast and tease and torment it with my sweet ministrations. She moves under me, moaning, and groaning. Her response, the way her body fits under my hands, my lips, and my cock, and the way our bodies respond to each other is amazing. Desire is always coursing through me when she is with me, or even when I think about her. I seem to be hard for her all the time! But when she’s under me, under my control, when her body willingly submits to me, to my desires, I am unable to help myself but want her the worst way. I want to live inside her most the time.

“I want you now!” I groan and reach out to get a condom from the bedside table.  I shift my body to place myself perfectly above her, and between her legs. As I place my knees between hers, I shift her legs spreading them further apart with mine. When I open the condom packet, I look at it with distaste.

“I can hardly wait for Saturday,” I say licentiously.

“Your birthday party?” she asks in a breathy voice. I shake my head.

“No. Saturday is the day I can stop using these fuckers,” I say showing the condom.

“Aptly named,” she says giggling. Giggling? I pinch the tip, and roll the condom onto my length as Anastasia is watching me with hungry eyes. “Miss Steele, this is not the time for giggling,” I say reprimanding her with a stern look; though I have a fiery passion burning through my eyes.

“But I thought you liked me giggling,” she says in a whisper, her passionate gaze locked with mine.

“This is not the time or place for giggling, baby. I think we need to put a stop to it, and I know exactly how,” I say, and I push her knees up, and drive my length between the lips of her sex. My mouth descends on her nipple, taking it between my lips with deep, hard pulls. Anastasia’s giggles subside, and they’re replaced with her moaning. Oh yes... Just the reaction I was looking for. My hips start moving inside her restlessly, circling, drilling with devious pleasure. Anastasia wraps her legs around me, her feet crossing atop my buttocks; her soft heels are digging into me. I groan with pleasure.  I drive every inch of me into her repeatedly to show her who she belongs to. “You’re mine Anastasia!” I groan.

“Yes... Yours...” she says in a husky, a barely recognizable voice.

I place my hands under her buttocks suddenly, and I push her hips into me as I quicken my pace with slamming thrusts. Anastasia’s muscles start tightening, and she comes loudly with my name on her lips, and I pour into her all I got, losing myself, and the orgasm rolls through us in strong waves, spreading, and conquering our bodies collectively. I collapse onto Anastasia, sinking her deep into the mattress, as my lips are still locked with hers.

******

We shower and dress up for the work day; neither one able to keep hands off the other. We make our way to the kitchen to have breakfast and sit at the breakfast bar. Mrs. Jones is already busy in the kitchen fixing my omelet.

She asks Anastasia what she would like for breakfast, as Anastasia is seating herself on a stool.

“I only want some granola Mrs. Jones, thank you,” she says blushing.

Anastasia is dressed in a gray pencil skirt and a gray silk blouse. “You look gorgeous,” I whisper leaning in, making her blush further. She lifts her eyes at me with an appreciative gaze, eyeing my pale blue shirt and jeans, and says, “As do you, Mr. Grey.”

She really looks hot with her skirt which hugs her all the right places. She looks completely elegant. I have this desire to provide for her. I don’t know what it is... I have this primal instinct to meet all her needs. Like a caveman who goes out and kills a game for his woman. Hunt something and bring to her feet. I want to be everything she needs, and the only one who provides for her.

“We should buy you some more skirts. As a matter of fact, I would love to take you shopping,” I say. She looks distracted.

“I wonder what’s gonna happen at work today...” she says slightly worried.

That brings up the unpleasant thoughts of Jack Hyde. Anger creeps unbidden, making me frown. I try to rein in my anger, barely managing, I grimace. “They’ll have to replace the sleazebag.”

“I do hope my new boss is a woman,” Anastasia comments absently.

“Why is that?”

“Well, I suppose you’d be less likely to object to me going away with a female boss,” she says. I do love the fact you’re so innocent Anastasia. I try to suppress a smile. A woman, too can press her suit on another woman. And besides, Anastasia going alone someplace without me, and the prospect of her meeting someone else there who might make a move on her is not a pleasant one.

As a take a bite of my omelet, she asks, “What are you smiling about? What’s so damn funny?”

“Just you, Anastasia. Eat all of your granola if that’s all you’re having, baby.” She narrows her eyes at me, and finishes her food.

******

Anastasia is going to drive the Saab for the first time today. She looks for the ignition by the steering wheel.

“Where’s the ignition?” she ask confused looking around the steering wheel.

“No baby. The ignition is right below the gearshift,” I point it to her.

“Odd place,” she mutters, but excited to drive her new car for the first time. She is unable to contain her excitement; almost jumping in the driver’s seat, clapping her hands like a small child. Her excitement makes me joyous. I gaze at her, and enjoy the moment. “You seem to be quite excited about driving, aren’t you?” I ask, pleased. Her exhilaration is rubbing off on me.

She beams in response, and grins ear to ear. Takes a deep breath as if she’s inhaling her favorite scent and turns to me. “Don’t you love the new car smell? Oh Christian! This is so much better than the A3 Submissive Special!” she says, then having blurted something she didn’t filter in her head first, she blushes.  But I love her for it. She says what she thinks.

I have a hard time suppressing a smile with her expressive definitions. “Submissive Special, Miss Steele? You have quite a way with words, baby,” I say trying to mock scold her, but, it’s too hard to do, when she’s this happy.

“Alright, let’s get going,” I say and point to the garage exit. Anastasia is beyond excited. She jumps in her seat though her movements are limited with her seat belt on, and she claps her hands together, then starts the car. As she shifts the car into Drive, we move forward. I note from the side mirror that Taylor is driving behind us in the SUV. I’ll go all the way to SIP with her, and from thereon, Taylor will take me to GEH. I want to spend every possible minute with Anastasia. Not to mention, I don’t trust her driving skill all too well.

Escala’s garage door lifts open, and Anastasia signals to turn right, and eases into traffic. At the corner of the building, we reach our first stop sign and she asks if she could have the radio on. Anastasia is easily distracted, and I don’t think having the radio on is a good idea.

“I’d rather you concentrate,” I say a little a little too sharply.

She looks at me sideways, and I can see the creeping annoyance in her eyes. “Christian, I know how to drive with music on,” she says rolling her eyes. Frustrating woman! I want her to first get used to driving a new vehicle. Is it too much to want to keep her safe? Though I scowl, I give in.

“Fine. You can play an iPod, mp3, as well as CDs in this stereo system,” I say, demonstrating the stereo system to her.

I dock the iPod and the stereo comes on loudly as The Police starts playing “King of Pain.”  (King of Pain by The Police)

“Your anthem,” she blurts out with another brain to mouth malfunction and oddly that assessment however true, cuts deep. Knowing it myself, and Anastasia confirming it are two different things. I want to be different for her. She clears her throat in realization.

“I think I have this album. Somewhere in my apartment...” she says trying to distract me, having regretted what she said. A forlorn look takes her face, and she’s gone, distracted. When she’s distracted, especially in the traffic, I worry. What if she gets distracted when she’s by herself?

“Hey!” I say trying to bring her back to here and now. “Miss Smart Mouth, come back to me!” She shakes her head as if jumping back into the current time from a parallel universe.

“You’re very distracted, Ana. You must concentrate. Don’t be complacent; most accidents happen when you don’t concentrate,” I warn her. She blinks, and shakes her head.

“I was just worried about work, that’s all.”

“Baby, you’ll be completely fine. Trust me!” I say. She’ll be better than fine. No one is going to dare to fire the owner’s girlfriend. I can hand their ass and their hat into their hands before they can say ‘fifty’ should they dare to fire her! I smile at her with reassurance.

She looks at me worried and says, “Christian, please don’t interfere, please. This is something I want to do on my own.” Why does she always assume that I will interfere? Whatever I do is to protect her, and help her; which by the way she doesn’t do a very good job on her own. In the last few months we have seen two major examples of it. I can’t help but get angry, and I clench my teeth, and my mouth goes into a hard, taut line.

She briefly gives me a worried look and says, “Let’s not argue please, Christian. We’ve had a magnificent morning, and last night was-“ she says pausing. “I can’t even find words to express how incredible it was. One word to describe it would be... heaven,” she says taking my breath away. She blows me away at the most unexpected times. Even when I want to get mad at her, she says something so simple, then I’m lost. My eyes close, and I ravel in her description.

“Yes it was. Simply heaven,”  I say, and add in a whisper, “I meant what I said Ana.” I want her. I want to be with her. I need her at the most elemental level. (Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald – Heaven)

Last night was the perfect compromise of what we both like; it was beyond heaven. It was as if we were one, in unison. No words needed; claiming one another, making love, fucking, connecting not only in our primal desires and passions, but also branding our souls with each other. My love for her only grows exponentially.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“That I don’t want to let you go, Ana,” I says softly, trying to hide the fear accompanying the thought.

“I don’t want to go,” she murmurs, and her response makes me completely happy, making me smile shyly, and I’m never shy. “Good,” is all I can say in a husky voice. Anastasia reaches the parking lot, and pulls into it. SIP is a short walking distance from here.

“I’ll walk you to work from here, and Taylor will pick me up after I drop you off,” I say. I exit the car, and walk to Anastasia’s side.

“We’re seeing Dr. Flynn at seven o’clock this evening, don’t forget, ok?” I remind her as I take her hand.

“No, I won’t forget. I’m going to compile a list of question to ask him,” she says.

What? What kind of questions. “Questions? About me?” I ask. She answers me with a nod.

I get nervous immediately. Knowing how fucked up I am, what good thing can Flynn say about me? “Anastasia, if there’s anything you want to know about me, I can answer all your questions,” I say offended. She beams at me in response.

“I know you can, Christian. But I would like to get the expensive charlatan’s unbiased opinion.”

Fear grips me immediately. Flynn knows me well enough... Knows how fucked up I am. He might easily recommend her that I’m not worth being with. Too fucked up for an innocent girl that she is. I can’t lose Ana! Worry and fear grips me immediately, and I turn around swiftly. I pull Anastasia into my arms with one swift movement, holding her tight as if she’s going to fly away. I capture both her hands behind her back, fixing her in place.

“Is this really a good idea, Ana?” I ask in a low voice. Too low, too anxious, too distraught. Barely contained fear is lacing my features. Her responding gaze is worried.

“Christian, if you’re that worried... if you don’t want me to see him, I won’t go,” she says. I don’t know what to think! All I know is that I can’t lose her. It’d destroy me to lose her. I can’t risk it. What little humanity Anastasia awaken in me, will die if she goes. I’ll be another Heathcliff. She tugs one of her hands and I release it. It comes up and rubs on my cheek tenderly, lovingly.

“What is worrying you Christian?” she asks in a soothing voice almost like a lullaby.

“That you’ll go... you’ll leave me,” I say unable to hide the excruciating pain from my voice. As I try to protect her from the villains outside, I don’t want to deliver her with my own hands to a person who knows every shit about me, advising her to leave me. The greatest punishment anyone can invent for me is to keep her away from me, drive her away. That is my personal torment, my daytime nightmare... It’ll give me a worthless existence making me meaner, leaving me half alive and half dead. Such a future could only be described with two words: death and hell. Existence after losing her would be hell. I have lived in it for less than a week and barely survived. What would it do to me if the prospect was forever?

She looks into my eyes intently, unwavering. “I’ve told you countless times, Christian. I’m not leaving you, and I’m not going anywhere. You’ve already told me your worst secret, and I’m still not leaving you,” she says. Bull shit! If she wanted to stay with me, she would have agreed to be mine, forever!

“Then why the hell haven’t you given me an answer?” I ask passionately.

“Answered you on what?” she asks trying to skirt my question.

“You know very well what I’m talking about, Ana. So don’t try to fool me,” I hiss.

She gives me a sigh finally. “Christian, all I want to know is that I’m enough for you,” she says. Her response makes me release her immediately as if she’s burnt me with her words.

“And you would rather not take my word for it?” I ask in complete exasperation. She would rather have someone else confirm or deny my feelings for her! How could Flynn know what goes through my fucking heart? Does he feel with it? Is he the one who is in love with her? If I don’t know my own heart, who would?

“All I’m saying is that this has been so quick Christian. By your own admission, you’re fifty shades of fuckedup. I always have this gnawing feeling that I can’t... that I’m unable to give what you need. I’m not seeking an answer just to appease my own concerns. I felt even more inadequate after seeing you with Leila,” she says as worry creases her eyes and a deep sadness clouds over her expression.

“I am worried that someday you will meet someone who likes doing exactly what you like to do... And what if you fall for her? Someone who is much better suited for your needs,” she says as she’s nearly choking on her words. She’s gone, and lost, nervously looking at her knotted fingers.

I take a deep breath.

“Baby look at me...” I say urging her to see the sincerity in my words and my expression. “I’ve known number of women who liked doing what I do. But none of them appealed to me the way you do. I have never had an emotional connection with any of those women. None of them! It’s only ever been you, Ana! No one else, just you...”

“That didn’t happen because you never gave them a chance. You were too confined, and spent too much time in your fortress Christian. But I don’t want to discuss this right now at eight o’clock in the morning in a parking lot. I need to go to work, and maybe the good Dr. Flynn can offer us an insight,” she asks raising her eyebrows. I nod reluctantly. Still worried.

I hold my hand out to her, and say, “come,” leading her to the street.

I walk her all the way to the SIP door, and hold her face in my hands, kissing her long and hard, willing her to understand that she’s the only one for me. I leave her breathless, and turn back to the waiting SUV worry lacing my thoughts.

*****

Love Sonnet XVII (17th Sonnet from the First Section)

by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
So I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Manana XVII

(Original Spanish)
No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio
o flecha de chaveles que propagan el fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva
dentro de si, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que acendio de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber como, ni cuando, ni de donde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
asi te amo porque no se amar de otra manera,

sino asi de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mia,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueno.