BOOK IV - Chapter XXVI - Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

CHAPTER XXVI

THE STORM

“Passion makes a person stop eating, sleeping, working, feeling at peace. A lot of people are frightened because, when it appears, it demolishes all the old things it finds in its path.”

Paulo Coelho

Mr. Grey will See You Now...

I acquaint myself with the people around the table but my eyes, body and mind are fixed on Anastasia alone. Someone named Boyd or other asks me if I have read his book. I haven’t of course. But it was one of the books my wife was editing and gisting during our honeymoon. I vaguely remember the content from what she has told me.

“No, but then again, my wife told me the story so well, I feel as if I’ve read it.”

“Will it at least make your to read list then?” he asks.

“That list is very exclusive. As you would appreciate, I have only limited time, and the genre would rarely make my list unless it involves world financial systems.”

“Unfortunately, it’s purely romance. I will have to trust Mrs. Grey to have gisted the story in full to you”, he says shaking his head with a smile.

“Well, she has,” I say without taking my eyes off my wife. Anastasia blushes and smiles back at me. Dinner goes along in a fast blur; I’m anxious to go home when I see Taylor wordlessly answer his cell phone. I see rather than hear him say “wait” to the person calling. We lock eyes as he comes to the table.

“Excuse me Mr. Grey,” he says for the benefit of the people around the table, and then leans in.

“Welch is in town and he would like to meet you.” I nod my head to him to walk away from the table from the prying eyes and ears.

“Tell him to come to the apartment later,” I order.

“Apparently he can’t,” he responds. I raise my eyebrows in irritation, questioning.

“Something about catching a lead before he jumps the city. But he needs instructions from you about Dr. Richards.”

“And that can’t be done over the phone?” He shakes his head locking eyes with me.

“He has documents for your eyes only,” he whispers. Anastasia looks at us questioningly. I smile at her to reassure her that all is well.

“Where is he?”

“He’s at a coffee shop on East 78^th and Madison. How soon can we leave, sir?” I groan inwardly. I don’t like change of plans without notice.

“Go pay for the meals while I talk to Ana,” I order Taylor.

 I walk towards Anastasia, give her a smile then turn the company at the table.

“It was nice meeting you all but business calls and we have to leave. Please enjoy yourselves. I’ve taken care of the tab which is the least we can do since we have to leave your company,” I say while still watching Ana’s confused face.

“Surely, Mrs. Grey isn’t needed for your business meeting. She could grace us with her company,” says one of the publishers whose name I remember to be Cooper. I look at him pointedly.

“How wrong you are Mr. Cooper. Mrs. Grey is always needed.”

“I’m sure she is, Mr. Grey. I just meant that she would be inconsequential for your business whereas she can further her connections between our publishing houses here,” he says. I stare at him to say ‘are you out of your fucking mind?’

“Mrs. Grey is the most important individual in his place,” I say as he withers under the intensity of my focus. “She can never be inconsequential. Ever!” My voice is soft and low but it is as if I shouted my words at him.

“Of course, I didn’t mean… I mean, perhaps maybe tomorrow we can continue the business talks. Right, Ana?”

Anastasia turns to me with a look that says ‘let me handle this’. I don’t want to, but I let her take the lead.

“Mr. Cooper," she says ignoring the fact that he just addressed her by her first name. "My husband is right. I would like to leave. We have sorted out our business dealings  for today and I’m sure nothing else is left that cannot be sorted out through e-mail or phone. Besides, the business decisions of the SIP are made by the owner.”

“Oh, I see. Of course, your corporate office…” he says like an afterthought. “I’m sure you’re not given the authority to make decisions on behalf of the SIP. I’m authorized to make such decision on behalf of our publishing house,” he says with an arrogant pride.

“No, Mr. Cooper. I mean the owner. The corporate office is just that: The Corporate Office. The major decisions will still have to be run by the owner.”

“Who is…” he says as he makes a gesture for Ana to elaborate as if he's talking to a three year old, leaving the end asking her to complete his sentence.

“Me, Mr. Cooper. I own SIP,” I respond impatiently.

“Really? I had no idea you were into publishing, Mr. Grey.”

“There is a lot you don’t know about Mr. Grey. My husband is a brilliant man,” Anastasia answers him with pride both in her eyes and her voice as she rises from her chair.  The men in their chairs also rise along with her assistant Hannah who seems to have a habit of jumping out of her seat.

“Do you want me to share a cab with you Ana? I mean if you want to…” she says and the last word dies down in her mouth “…stay”.

“No need for that. We have a vehicle waiting outside,” I say brusquely.

“Do you need a ride Hannah?” Anastasia asks her. But I give Hannah a forbidding stare and she shakes her head.

“My hotel is very close to here. So, no. Thank you for the offer,” she adds.

“I will definitely contact you for future collaboration, Mrs. Grey,” says one of the female publishers.

“I also would like to collaborate with you. It would be an honor to do business with someone who became so successful at such a young age,” says Cooper. I wrap my wife in my arms possessively, territorially. Sawyer and Melissa already close the security rings they create. Taylor comes up and nods stating the bill’s been paid.

“Good evening everyone,” I say after placing Anastasia’s coat on then leading her outside. The cold air greets us with the door opening. I hold Anastasia’s hand while supporting her waist, making sure she doesn’t fall down.

“What business are you supposed to be attending?” she asks. I raise a quizzical eyebrow.

“Oh, come on Christian. You have something important to do, but you don’t want me to be left alone with the editors. I can see that it’s something urgent. But you don’t want me to come. Am I correct?” she asks and then yawns.

“Baby, nothing as important. Besides, you’re tired. I need you to go home and rest while I figure out what Welch wants to talk about.”

“Is everyone or everything okay in Seattle?” she bristles with concern.

“Yes, everyone’s well. This isn’t about Seattle baby, just important business,” I say.

“Welch isn’t your business guy. He’s the head of your security. Is the business about your former sub?” she asks as Taylor does his best to ignore the remark and opens the limo’s door for her. I frown, follow her into the limo.

“Please be a little more discreet in public. Yes and no. I’m not exactly sure what he wants to talk to me about.”

“I thought we weren’t keeping secrets, Christian,” she complains.

“I won’t. I don’t want to speculate when I don’t know what it’s about. It could be a number of things. All I know that it’s important and he needs to see me face to face. So the limo will drop me and Taylor off at a coffee shop to meet Welch then take you, Sawyer and Tiber back to the apartment. I’ll be back home as soon as my business is done,” I explain. She nods, seeming upset. I lift her chin up.

“Mrs. Grey, you know my nightly routine doesn’t include business excursions outside. My sole business is finding infinite ways to make you come,” I murmur to her ear. Her breath hitches, she squeezes her legs, and the reflection of her passion is repeated within the grasp of her hand held within mine.

“Fine, but hurry back. This New York apartment still doesn’t feel like home.”

“Why, Mrs. Grey, are you telling me that you missed home already?”

“Of course, I did, Mr. Grey,” she says smiling. Taylor’s voice breaks our connection and suddenly the other voices flood my senses.

“We’re here Mr. Grey,” he says opening the door.

“You’re going directly home, and nowhere else,” I remind her.

“Christian, I’m pregnant, hungry for some snacks and tired. Even if I wanted to, I'm too tired right now,” she says with an unlady like snort.

“Kitchen at the apartment is fully stocked. If you crave for something else, the top cabinet drawer next to the fridge contains take out menus which Sawyer or Melissa can order for you. But,” I say pointing finger, “absolutely no going out for any reason! Especially in this weather… Snowstorm is supposed to be hitting tonight,” I order.

“It's already tonight Christian and the snow is already falling. How will you get home?” she asks with wide eyes.

“The limo will come back for me after the driver drops you three off, baby,” I tell her to sooth her concern. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back soon.” I give her a quick kiss and close the limo’s door behind me, stopping the escape of warm air from the vehicle.

Taylor and I rush to the café which is flanked by Hermes and Barneys on the street and some other luxury shops. Taylor pulls the door open and the onslaught of the fresh scents of coffee and Danish greet us. The interior of the place is cozy, shoebox size. I spot Welch right away. He’s sitting with a man in a Yankees ball cap, jeans, cowboy boots and dark casual shirt with rolled up sleeves. His coat slung on the backing of the chair he’s sitting in. I glance over the interior of the shop out of habit and take in the contents. The place is devoid of customers other than Welch and his company. By the heavenly scent permeating and mouthwatering displays on the pastry case, I don’t think it’s the food but my security closed the shop. Welch gets up right away to greet me with a somber face. When his company lifts his face up, recognition dawns on me. I’ve not seen him in anything other than expensive suits since college. He stands to his full height gracefully, fluidly and confidently as if he’s the owner of this whole damn town and extends his right hand which I grasp it in the usual forearm shake.

“To what do I owe your presence here, Alex?” I ask.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Grey” he grins in response. “I’m in town for a couple of days and you needed my eyes and ears. Or so I’m told. Seattle is your town, but, New York and LA are mine,” he says casually and points to the available chair. After looking around, I spot his personal bodyguard Anthony, standing at a vantage point where he can observe the entire room, back and the front entries, but he is conveniently concealed. Taylor comes back to the table, places my coffee before me, then goes where Anthony is standing.

“Mr. Grey, I don’t have much time, so, I’ll explain it as best as I can in the shortest time possible,” Welch interjects.

He places a manila envelope before me. I take the envelope and empty the contents before me which produces a folder and a memory card, the kind you put in the smart phones or tablets.

“Dr. Richards is a hard woman to get a hold of,” starts Welch without a preamble. She has powerful alliances in her current, uh, boyfriend,” qualifies Welch, then continues. “So, the fact that she knew me, made it even harder to talk to her. She blocked all the venues!! All of them! All of my attempts to reach her including a visit to New York Presbyterian ended up by her threatening me for stalking. She was even unfazed by uhm, the insurance policy we have against her,” he says and I cringe. 

“However, there’s more than one way to collect information and that’s my business,” adds Pella.

“What have you got?” I ask bristling with edgy, nervous energy.

Welch produces a small 8 inch tablet.

“May I?” he says extending his hand for the memory card. I hand it to him. He inserts it in the slot and the screen comes to life. There are image files. A laughing teenager’s happy face fills the screen. I shake my head questioningly.

“Well?” I ask irritated.

“Keep sliding,” says Pella.

With my index finger, I scroll through the contents. One after the other, images of the same girl going to school, hanging out with friends, then in college and in her dorm room. Then an image appears to be an upscale store in which she’s handcuffed with a terrified face, followed by a mugshot, fingerprints for shoplifting, then in a place which appears to be more like a dungeon. This time, she appears to be stripped of her clothes and of her innocence. Image after image shows her in various sexual positions. I notice the set up to be a sex club due to its similarity to the ones I have visited in the past. The final image shows a note that simply says “Caught and Punished”.

“Who is this?” I ask, although I have an ominous feeling who it might be. Simply seeking confirmation.

“Dr. Richards’ baby sister.”

“What does she have to do with me?”

“She’s a means to an end, the weakest link in a chain to yank by six degrees of separation. She yanks Dr. Lauren’s chain, and by close acquaintance, Dr. Lauren can yank yours,” Pella explains. 

“Even if it is to her own detriment. What we are seeing here is just a move as in a chess move. Do you play chess?” asks Pella with such nonchalance, it irritates me given the topic.

“Yes, Alex, you know I play strategy games!” I nearly growl exasperated.

“Good!" he responds giving me a brilliant smile. Lifts his face up, sits back and crosses his arms. Then his face takes a serious expression. 

"That means you should recognize and understand what is going on here. What would you sacrifice to bring your opponent’s King down?” he asks hypothetically, raising his eyebrows. My mind is too addled to play hypothetical chess games. He answers his own question. “Would you sacrifice all of your eight pawns, your two knights, your two bishops, your two rooks, and even the only queen? Short of your King, you can sacrifice it all if your aim is to win the game. Because what matters is that you are the only King standing in the game of Chess.”

“Enough with the strategy game analogy Alex. I’m sure I’m not here to get a lesson in chess.”

“Christian Grey, you still don’t see it? Whoever it is, or they are, a pawn and a rook are being sacrificed here. A rook is stronger than a bishop or a knight. You know what the game says… Two rooks are generally considered to be worth slightly more than a queen. It’s a major piece in the game. Whoever it is won a rook by sacrificing a lowly pawn, namely the sister, and that lowly pawn brought down a rook, Dr. Richards. The rook is being used to bring down a queen, your Queen and the queen will bring down the King.”

“Alex, fucking English please!”

“Dr. Richards does not have the potential to bring you down. That wasn’t the purpose of the player. However she was meant to be used to bring down your queen which somehow the other person’s attempts were unsuccessful since your queen had tricks of her own. If Mrs. Grey didn’t behave like she did last night, you well know what would have happened with such a gathering: the unforgiving memory of society thanks to you being elusively famous, the paparazzi and of course the never forgetting internet. You know that as well as I do that it takes years to build a reputation and minutes to destroy it. Who would benefit from your fall?” he asks.

The list can be long. Success takes a long list of rivals left in the dust. But there may be others, one particular other. I look at Welch knowingly.

“So far, no apparent activity. He’s still seeking court action claiming hostile takeover. All his efforts seemed to have focused in that direction. Of course it doesn’t mean he’s not involved someway, but so far all the surveillance shows that he’s focusing his efforts in litigations.”

“Dismiss no one!” Alex interjects.

“Who were you going to follow that prevented you from coming to my apartment?”

“I don’t know the name. Mr. Pella’s man,” he says nodding Alex’s direction, “the one you met earlier in the day is on him. But the guy knows he’s being followed, and he’s not without tricks of his own.

“What permission do you need from me then?”

“Dr. Lauren is unwilling to cooperate. Since her sister is involved, do you wish to pull her strings to cooperate using our insurance?”

“I don’t think it would work,” I say even if I still had all the ‘insurance’ I have destroyed.

“I don’t either,” Pella agrees. “There’s simply nothing people won’t do to protect those they love, including their own destruction and demise. She’s protecting her baby sister, not just from an embarrassing reveal, but possibly from more. If you’re not in town, the impact will be less, but we want to eliminate any damage to you and your family not to mention to your company. So, the question comes to this: what other game pieces are lined up against you? This couldn’t be the only one. Is this a simple distraction, a sacrifice of an important game piece to isolate the King?”

“The Queen,” I respond. “Whoever it was, they wanted to isolate my Queen.”

“Then the question becomes," Pella says, leaning forward looking at me without blinking, "Would the King sacrifice himself to save the Queen?” he asks already knowing the answer.

“Undoubtedly,” I respond gravely.

“There’s your weakest link, then. They’ll approach you through her,” he says sitting back with his arms crossed.

“You understand the game now?” Alex asks. “They’ll never come at you. Never!” he says emphasizing. “They’ll come at your Queen. The Queen shall bring down her own King,” he says. And how well do I know that? I’d give everything up for Ana, even my own life. I prefer to keep all of us intact of course which means I need to prepare an offensive strike against an unknown enemy.

“How do we find this person? And how did you get your hands on Dr. Richards’ documents?”

“I can be very," says Pella motioning with his hands as if to sort through the right word. He settles for, "persuasive. Everyone has strings attached somewhere and Dr. Richards pulls the strings of a New York billionaire who has aspirations of becoming a Senator. The future senator really wouldn’t want his singular predilections exposed so publicly. I simply reminded him the Senate race early 2000s against a well-known Republican politician from a Midwestern state who not only lost the senate seat but possibly the presidency because of that scandal. Politics can also be nasty. Dr. Richards’ boyfriend would really like to be in the race and any leakage, even the slight gossip of it would be bad for him. Threat of that of course, provided his begrudging cooperation granted that none of that leaks to the media. I had to reassure him that it wouldn’t. Because it’s to no one’s benefit.”

“What now?”

“It only bought us time. He’s going to restrain his girlfriend, but he knows that the scandal is only one file sharing website away to be leaked. He said he’s having the internet monitored by his team of geeks 24/7 to prevent and contain any possible damage should anything leak and of course if he finds the person, he'll bring an injunction against him to prevent him or her leaking that information. I brought it to his attention that his girlfriend exposing herself in her private tastes could also be detrimental more so to him than anyone else which of course he agreed.”

I run an exasperated hand through my hair.

“Do you want to contact the Doctor yourself?” Welch asks, but his phone must have buzzed because he holds an apologetic finger and looks at the screen.

“Excuse me, sir,” he says, then slides the screen to answer the call.

“Yes,” he says. Waits for the answer.

“Lost him? Where?” Then hearing the response grimaces his face.

“Is there any chance to catch up to him?” Him. Who is ‘him’?

“Fine. Give me your God damned location. I’ll come and get it.” Upon listening to the murmured answer on his phone he automatically turns his head towards the front door of the shop. There’s nothing to see just darkness and the shop’s light showing heavy snow fall only steps away.

“Tomorrow then,” he says confirming a meeting, then hangs up. Pella doesn’t say anything as if he heard all the conversation.

“It was Lee. He lost the man who was lurking at the convention today, or rather playing some electronic tricks blocking everyone’s wireless reception.”

“Lost him?”

“Yes, sir. But he recovered something off his laptop’s hard drive. Unfortunately, while trying to decipher the information the hard drive got damaged mostly because of the self-destruct encryption.”

“How?” I ask. “How could this other man manage to do that in a short time?”

“It’s quite simple actually. When the man got caught with his virtual pants down by Lee he had to run leaving his laptop behind. But he remotely entered a privileged command with a predetermined password at login to trigger destruction of the user data," Welch answers. 

“How will that help us? What pertinent information did the hard drive contain that caused us to meet here today?” I ask pointedly.

“Mr. Grey, the man has access to Mrs. Grey’s schedule. That much Lee was able to determine and some e-mails she received from you to her e-mail account.”

“What?” I jump to my feet.

“Most of it is destroyed. But, we don’t know how he received that information or gained access to it.” My mind is running 100 miles a minute. Someone has access to my wife’s private content of her e-mail account.

“I want that fucking hard drive analyzed by Barney, and Barney only! Which e-mail account?” I ask through gritted teeth.

 “The SIP, and the schedule is what was entered into the SIP Calendar. But the information is only partial. Either the SIP data is hacked which is very likely or the smart phones are hacked. Lee described the condition of the hard drive content as like a piece of paper where most of it is burnt but still some crucial information remained. That’s how he was able to determine the SIP part of it.”

“Why couldn’t you get the hard drive now?” I ask changing topics. I want to have the possession of that hard drive immediately.

“There’s a storm advisory. The worst snow storm of the year is already upon us. He’ll get it to me tomorrow when the streets are cleared by the city. It’s too dangerous right now and he’s off the Manhattan Island. Most people are only seeking shelter or remaining indoors at this time.”

“Christian, where is Mrs. Grey?” asks Alex.

“I sent her to our apartment. She should already be home by now." I respond. 

"You better make sure she’s got home with the snow storm coming. Do you have a ride back to your place?”

Come to think of it, the limo should have already been back. But it has not.

“Mr. Grey, I have the confirmation that Mrs. Grey and the security made it home. They’re well, sir. But, the limo will not be back until the storm subsides, or at least lets out a little,” Taylor interjects tucking his cell phone in with a stoic face.

“Shit!” I hiss.

“I have a large interest in a 5 star luxury hotel only a block away on Madison & 77^th. I’m sure we can get that far until the storm lets out." I don’t like the idea of leaving Anastasia by herself. I need to get home. Pella sees the conflicting face I have.

“Come on, Grey. As soon as the snow stops, you can be on your way which shouldn’t be more than a few hours.” I find myself pacing back and forth in the small space, feeling confined.

“I’ll have Anthony drive you. I have an AWD Knight Conquest, no weather is too harsh for it. Just wait till the storm passes over.”

“Two hours tops,” I acquiesce reluctantly.

***** ❦  ♡  ❧ *****

La passion est toute l'humanité, sans elle, la religion, l'histoire, le roman, l'art seraient inutiles.

Passion is in all humanity; without it, religion, history, literature and art would be rendered useless.

True to his own self, Alex comes through and he had secured the largest suite which occupies two top floors of the hotel and it’s a good thing, because every other room is completely occupied, surprising for the season. As soon as I get a private room to hang my hat in, the first thing I do is to dial Anastasia’s phone.

“Christian?” she answers.

“Hi, baby,” I respond.

“You’re late,” she says accusatory.

“I’ll be home in a couple of hours. A bad snowstorm is passing through and I’m stuck. We’ve taken refuge at a hotel in the Upper East Side.”

“Taylor and Mr. Welch?” she asks concerned.

“They’re also here. Have you eaten, yet?” I ask changing the topic.

“Yes, there were plenty of snacks here. We didn’t need to take out.”

“What did you do since you got home?” I ask.

“I had some snack because your son was hungry,” she says reiterating ‘your son’.

“Our son,” I correct her.

“Yes, well, he was hungry, but, I made myself a sandwich. Just took a bath, and waiting for you to come home in bed.”

“Really Mrs. Grey? What are you wearing?” What the hell? Where did that come from? Such a cliché but I want to do this play with her right now. Anastasia gets the gist and her voice gets the deep sultriness that would make any phone sex operator jealous. Not that I would ever have the need for that but she has the voice of a seductress.

“I am wearing the line from ‘My Husband’s T-Shirt Catalog’,” she replies emphasizing.

“You should be in silk or satin, baby,” I respond.

“Oh, I don’t know. I prefer wearing your scent than any silk or satin, husband. And right now, I’m sprawled against the headboard, not only completely bored to tears, but utterly turned on. There’s no one to entertain me,” she says giving an exaggerated sigh. I groan throwing my head back.

“Aaand Mr. Grey, I totally feel like I’m in some sort of heat. I don’t know who can put me out.”

“Anaaa!” I hiss through my teeth barely recognizing the primal guttural sound coming from within me. “I want no one’s finger in my pie! Even as a joke! Do you understand?” I hiss.

“Not, even me, sir?” she asks innocently.

“We could make that exception for you tonight seeing how I neglected you, but I and only I will get you there.”

“Yes, sir,” she responds obediently. She knows how to get me hard, but then again, I’m always half way there with my wife.

“This morning, just as I am now, I got hard as hell just by watching you sleep.”

“Watching you sleep is a rare treat for me as well,” she murmurs.

“Yes, but my cock was like a thick, heavy rope, throbbing, aching to get inside you which is why I pulled you beneath me and slid into your sex before even your eyes were fully open. Even when you’re half asleep, your body responds to mine like nothing else. The way you moan when I’m deep inside you, the way you fist around me when I pull back out as if you can’t get enough of me and the way you keep coming one after delicious wave and another. You drive me half fucking crazy where being inside you is a need like the air I breathe.” A soft whimper, mixed with lascivious need escapes her lips and reaches my ears. My voice is deep, a little harsh, seductive, and smooth like velvet at times, but it is getting her weak at the knees.

“Christian! I want you here! I wish you were here inside me,” she moans.

“I know baby, I know. But, I’ll make this good for you. Take your shirt off as I would do. Because if I was there, I’d get you bare naked and lick your delectable skin from your lips to your toes. I want you to think my mouth on you. I will not ride you hard before I get you soft and wet. I'll take my time with my mouth and my hands. I want you to cup your breasts and roll your nipples between your thumb and finger. Both of them. Like I would,” I whisper seductively, like the serpent calling Eve to taste the apple. ‘Try it. You will like it!’ A loud moan arises from the phone.

Sinnerman – Nina Simone

“Now I want you to pinch and pull your nipples. Imagine me sucking them… Hard!” Another whimper is heard over the phone. Anastasia starts breathing hard.

“I don’t want you touch yourself yet. Just pay attention to your nipples. There’s supposed to be massage oil in the top drawer next to the bed. Get it out, and pour some in your palm.”

“Ah! O..okay” she stutters. I hear her heavy breathing on the phone which slowly calms down.

 

“Now, slide those hands from the tops of your breast, to the down curve. Keep going lower. Over your bellybutton, then onto the top of your pubic bone.”

“I want you to do this to me when I’m hand cuffed and with a spreader bar,” she murmurs between panting.

“Fffuck!” I hiss. “I most definitely will do that. You are a kinky girl, Anastasia Grey!”

“Only…” pants, “because I’m married to a kinky boy!”

“Damn right you are!”

“Aaah!” she groans.

“Ana, I want you to lower your right hand between your folds. Tell me, are you wet yet?”

“Y..yes. Very,” she replies.

“Good girl. Now, dip your index finger inside you,” I order.

“I can’t do it, until I hear you pleasuring yourself,” she says.

“Anaa!”

“Please, Christian! We’ve never had phone sex. I’d like to know that I can do this for my man.”

“You do! You always turn me on!” I say my voice is fervent.

“Husband, get naked and get your cock in your hand, please,” she pleads.

“Fuck it!” I say looking around then walk into the en suite bathroom divesting my clothes as I walk. As soon as I divest of my boxers, my erecting springs free, heavy and pulsing. Finding a glass enclosure shower pleases me. I walk in without turning the water on. It will come later.

“Are you naked yet?” she asks.

“Yesss, damn it!” I answer and she giggles.

“Oh, Mrs. Grey, it will not do. No giggling during sex." My voice takes a warning tone. 

“Tell me, how much you want me, husband.”

“I want you so damn much, I’ll fuck you seven shades of Sunday as soon as I get my hands on you,” I growl.

“How big is your erection?” she croons.

“Enough to fuck you into next week, Mrs. Grey,” I answer as I stroke myself. “Now I want you to also dip your middle finger into sex. Swirl your fingers around in a sweeping motion pressing towards the front wall, like I would with my tongue. Pull your nipples with your other hand. I’m here baby! Hard, ready to fuck you. Just thinking of you sprawled in my bed, pleasuring yourself gets me going.”

“I want to suck that plush tip of your cock, lick it like the chocolate Popsicle, trace my tongue over the ridges and veins, then swallow it to the hilt. But, what I really want to do is to ride it hard, like it was never ridden before. Feel the throbbing veins, makes you primal, like a god! My mouth is watering already!” she whispers.

“Baby, you have an oral fixation.”

“When it comes to you Mr. Grey, I’m unabashed. I want you to fist my hair, drive into me with your base animalistic urges. I want to feel that you need me. Just me…”

“Fuuucck! Ana!” I growl as the precum bubbles and fizzes, coating the head of my cock, spreading over the crescent formed at the base my thumb and the forefinger.

“Touch your little nub, and rub it with your other thumb while you imagine sucking me!” I order.

“Christian! I’m burning for you! If you don’t put me out, I’ll burst into flames. I’m imagining kneeling before you so nothing obstruct between my mouth and your erection! Oh!” she groans. “Christian, I’m so close!”

My hand speeds up, feeling my wife’s lips on my cock. I lose my balance leaning onto the shower wall, and thick spurts of cum shoots long and hard.

Anastasia shouts her pleasure into the phone and finally murmurs on our ascent, “not enough without you, Christian! Nothing’s enough without you.”

“I know baby, I’ll get home as soon as I can, and satisfy that hungry sex of yours.”

Everything is Never Quite Enough – Wasis Diop

Anyone who is in love is making love the whole time, even if they’re not. When two bodies meet, it is just the cup overflowing. They can stay together for hours, even days. They begin the dance one day and finish it the next, or – such is the pleasure they experience – they may never finish it.”

Paulo Coelho

***** ❦  ♡  ❧ *****

After taking a hot shower, I get back in my clothes. Then pick my cell phone up and dial again.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answers the phone.

“Barney!” my voice jolts him to attention. He clears his throat a couple of times.

“Yes, uh, sir, I’m awake. Sorry,” he says.

“Don’t apologize. Did you talk to Welch?”

“Yes, I did, also to a Mr. Lee. I had given him how to take screen captures of the data without destroying what’s left.”

“And?”

“The first precaution I took is to reset the passwords on all SIP employees, and I had to reset your password as well. But it is much easier to hack into someone’s phone than a server like SIP, so for the time being, I have prohibited company email access from smart phones for Mrs. Grey, her assistant and access to her shared work calendar. That should do the primary damage control. Also, could you ask Mrs. Grey if her phone was out of her sight at any time? Or anything unusual happened to the phones?”

“Yes! I don’t know if her phone was ever out of her custody but they have had problems with the phone today. Lee said that the signals were blocked. So, everyone’s phones were drained of power except for Mrs. Grey’s assistant’s.”

“Why not hers?”

“Apparently it was hooked onto her laptop, charging.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs thinking. “I need to see the phones. All of them. Meanwhile it would be best if you could do something for me. I’ll email you a code to install on the smart phones that would prevent any interference, like an internal firewall for the smart phones. That would even detect hardwired Trojan horses… well, theoretically.”

“Really?”

“Well, it’s a working theory of mine. I wrote the code myself, but I have tested it and so far it produced positive results, sir. If you have access to the phone, I can directly send it to you. You would need to hook the smart phones to a laptop or a desktop. It makes the workaround so much easier.”

“Okay, send it. CC it to Taylor so he can work on the security’s phones.”

“I’ll do that, sir. When can I have the phones, Mr. Grey? I’d like to examine them.”

“We’ll be back to Seattle tomorrow. The following day should work.”

“Yes, sir,” he says before I hang up.

Taylor is waiting for me outside.

“The snow’s letting out, sir. We can leave if you wish.” I nod.

“Care for something to drink before leaving?” Alex holds up his Carslberg’s Jacobsen Vintage.

“Where did you get that? They only make 600 bottles annually,” I say surprised.

“Had them shipped from Copenhagen of course. It has the hints of peaty tar and rope.”

“Ahhh! I don’t know if that’s appealing,” I say doubtfully.

“It sure is. The barley wine is matured in oak barrels for six months making it taste like vanilla and cocoa. The hint and tar and rope just the kick you need. Otherwise I wouldn’t pay $400 bucks a bottle. So would you like to try one?” he asks, waving a new bottle.

“As appealing as it is, I have a pregnant wife at home, waiting for me.” He nods with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes as if the remark hit a sore spot. I open my mouth to ask him what happened to his family, but deciding it’s too personal, I close my mouth and don’t word the question that’s been crossing my mind for a long time. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to Ana. I nearly went crazy when I thought she was leaving me. Just when I thought life couldn’t get any worse… I shake away the memories of her lifeless form on the road. Even though the curiosity is egging me, I don’t ask. This time his smile is full as if he reads my mind.

“It was fire, and a long time ago,” he says.

I can’t even mouth the word ‘sorry’ with the shock.

“I know,” he says with a sad smile. “Go to your wife, my friend. Nothing with a price tag would make up for what is priceless like one’s family.”

“Thank you for letting us crash here during the storm. Your favors are stacking up against me.”

“Well, someday I may call in. Currently, I’m only doing what I wish someone had done for me. You may call it... vicarious living,” he says shrugging. “If I don’t see you before you leave, have a safe trip back to Seattle.” He extends his hand, and I grasp his forearm in his usual manner like a Roman general.

“Thank you,” I voice my rare gratitude and he knows it.

***** ❦  ♡  ❧ *****

By the time Taylor and I get to my apartment, it’s almost 4:00 a.m. Anastasia is sleeping curled under the covers. She had the fireplace turned on. The light from the fireplace flickers and dances on her face making her glow like an angel. Her hand is holding onto the pillow on my side of the bed as she always does when I’m not here. Right now, all I want to do is to get into bed with my pregnant wife and hold onto the most important person in the world for me.

I take my clothes off, pile them neatly on the chair and enter into our bed pulling Anastasia into my embrace, her back to my naked front. She instinctively snuggles into my warmth. I fall into a deep, relieved sleep with the knowledge that she is safe and warm in my arms.  

The sunlight seeps through the window as if the storm of the night didn’t go on all night long. Anastasia groans and she moves her tangled leg above mine automatically. She never liked getting too warm while sleeping. I look at the clock on the side table. It flashes 7:38 a.m. Even though I’m always an early riser, I don’t want to leave Anastasia’s side this morning. She shifts and turns her body towards me. Her movement rides her t-shirt up, exposing her protruding belly and half-moon swells of her breasts. My cock which has already been at half-mast leaps into attention. It pokes Anastasia’s lower back and her blue eyes slowly open up.

“Hey, you,” she smiles. Her voice is a little throaty with the morning ruse but also rusty with her awakening senses. Her blue eyes sparkle, blood rushes to her cheeks, fully flushing them.

“You are a sight for sore eyes," she whispers.

“I’d like to be more than just for your sore eyes, wife,” I respond. The unbelievable tension coils inside me with an urge to make love, burning for her.

“About that promise you made…” she starts. “If this is a preamble for it…”

“Oh, baby, you’ve seen nothing yet.”

“Christian, last night only left me wanting more.”

“And how would you like it delivered this morning?” I ask her.

“Make me feel alive and desired." Her voice is deep, velvety, profligate. 

“Get on all fours then Mrs. Grey,” I order. She obeys immediately.

“I will have to preen and open you up baby, you’re too tight, and I’m too big. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Christian, I want to feel alive! I’m not made of glass you know!” she protests. I smack her ass right at the apex of her thighs. My fingers carry the evidence of her arousal.

“Again!” she asks surprising me.

“You want to be spanked?” I ask.

“Please,” she begs.

“Sure?” I say with barely concealed excitement.

“Yes, please! Don’t make me beg!”

“We’ll go with twelve then,” I say. “If it’s too much, let me know and I’ll stop and just fuck you.”

"Yes! Just do it already!" she complains.

“Yes, ma'am! Your ass is the most beautiful sight, baby,” I say stroking it gently, spreading warmth. Then my hand leaves the connection and lands on her right buttock cheek leaving a red handprint. I stroke again then land another slap on her left buttock. Next I hit over her folds of her sex and right above her clit eliciting a deep moan. She arches her back.

“Still, baby,” I coax her as I rub over her sex then land another slap on her buttocks. A pattern emerges. Slap. Rub. Slap. Rub. Slap. Rub. After the 12^th slap I enter into her tender sex in one swift move. Warm, wet, tight and soft. I hold there for a few seconds with my eyes closed, completely lost in our ecstatic connection. She pushes against me, urging me to move with her body. I withdraw and spear into her, first slowly, then picking up my rhythm. Anastasia moves with me, pushing against me, countering my movements.

“Ana! Stop! This will be over way too soon!” But she won’t stop. My heavy balls smack against her now swollen clit repeatedly. Even the sound of it renews my arousal, an intimate connection, sound of our rhythm. The rim of the crown of my erection scrape and kiss her tender spot buried deep inside her, bringing my wife to the brink of orgasm.

“Hold!” I hiss through my gritted teeth and change my angle. As I spread her legs wider, I pound deeper into her, caressing her pleasure point and thrusting into the embrace of her tight sex to get lost in a mind-blowing pleasure. Anastasia arches her head back, her hair cascading in waterfalls. Her body tenses, taut under the assaults of my relentless storm of my drives. Anastasia’s hands clasp the sheet hard, her body trembles, and the inner muscles of her sex envelopes my cock harder, eliciting my orgasm as I feel the first wave of her hitting my wife’s body. My body jerks, a deep animalistic shout comes, my cock tenses as my ejaculations release a wrenching orgasm. Sweat covers and attempts to cool my heated body. When the last jolt stops, I circle my arms around her and lower our bodies onto the bed.

“That was… wow! Words fail me,” Anastasia murmurs.

“Yes, exactly,” I say holding her tighter.

“Your mom called last night,” she says.

“You have to tell me this now, when my cock is still buried inside you?” She giggles.

“Caught your pants down, Mr. Grey?”

“Virtually and literally,” I say as I pull out with the sound of suction, the evidence of our rough sex leaking out at the wake of my cock.

“Wait here, baby” I say, and walk to the bathroom. I bring pieces of tissues to clean her up. I gently wipe her sex and her legs.

“The irony isn’t lost on me, Mr. Grey,” she says.

“How so?” I ask.

“You can give me what I want, as rough or as gentle. But then, there’s this side of you that’s incredibly gentle and loving. One of the many things I love about you.”

“High praise coming from you, Mrs. Grey? I am but a lowly mortal,” I say with a grin.

“There’s nothing lowly about you Mr. Grey. I’m hungry, let’s go eat,” she says.

I hold my hand out to her.

“What am I going to do with you, wife?”

“I’m you’ll think of something delicious.”

“Shower with me, first? Or can’t my son wait until his mother takes a shower?”

“I think we can hold him off for a little while.”

“What did my mom want?” I ask out of curiosity.

“They’re throwing me a baby shower this week. That’s what she wanted to talk about. At your parents’ home. She asked me to register at a store so that people can get me what I would need.”

“You don’t need to do that. I can afford all you and our child needs.”

“Oh, Christian. That’s really not the point…” she says rolling her eyes. “Come on husband. Let’s take our shower. What time are we leaving for home?”

“Anytime we want, but I was thinking late in the evening. That way we enjoy our last day, wait for the streets to be cleared up and still be back home by dinner. I’m sure Mrs. Taylor would be happy to see Jason.”

“Of course,” Anastasia responds.

***** ❦  ♡  ❧ *****

“Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome aboard. This is your captain speaking. It looks like we are going to be delayed about thirty minutes due to the weather conditions. We are in line for deicing of the jet. The air traffic for take offs is slower due to snow. Please enjoy your refreshments. My co-pilot Baighley and I wish you all an enjoyable flight,” Stephan’s voice echoes out of the speakers.

“It’s odd,” Anastasia says looking at her Blackberry.

“What’s the matter?” I ask.

“I can’t access my SIP email account. It’s blocking me.”

“Oh, that. It’s a precaution.”

“What?” she asks confused.

“All the company e-mails had to be reset.”

“When?” she asks furrowing her brows.

“Yesterday, or rather last night,” I respond.

“Pfff… Christian, why are they resetting my email account?” putting her fist onto her waist.

“Because someone hacked into your email account and your Outlook Calendar. We couldn’t take the chance.” I shrug unapologetically.

“I would argue with you, but I’m still too tired,” she says with a smile. “Thank you” she adds. This surprises me.

“What for?” I ask.

“You really know how to show a girl a good time.”

“Just to my girl. Just to mine. Because I love you Mrs. Grey,” I answer as I lift and kiss her hand.

I Want Love - Elton John