Chapter 18

Oh my!

“We’re spending the night here. I’ve already let my parents know not to expect us back. You don’t have to worry about Chris.”

Oh! The arrogance of his assumption doesn’t annoy me – instead it serves as proof of his thoughtfulness though, I worry about leaving with one man and coming home with another. I push the thought away, eager to indulge in a bit of Mr Grey.

“Thank you.” I fling my arms around his neck, beyond ecstatic and smile at him, cramming every bit of joy I feel into it. This suite that I could hardly bear to enter into an hour ago has now become the perfect place for our reunion.

His answering grin is scorching, completely in tune with the hunger in his eyes and his impatient erection. Again I catch my breath, thrilled to my core when his low tone washes over me, “you’re a rare beauty Anastasia, I cannot wait to be inside you. I’ve clung to the memory of what you feel like around me.” He runs the back of his hand down my cheek, then lovingly traces the line of my jaw with a knuckle.

Those fevered words ratchet my desire to unbearable levels and when he throws me onto the bed with a predatory glint in the steel of his stare, I feel like it’s Christmas – only I’m overwhelmed by choice. Not sure what toy I want to play with first, greedy to get my hands on as much as possible of his flesh.

He crawls up, between my legs where he stops to rid me of my sodden panties. He slings it away carelessly, his ogling eyes never leaving the naked place they covered. He continues to stare, licking his lips – obviously beyond aroused by the sight but there’s nothing to hide my intimate folds and I feel exposed, squirming and certain that my blush reaches all the way down there.

He takes his sweet, torturous time – luxuriating in his private viewing activity. He makes no move to touch me but the ravenous mould of his face is pushing me to run up the steps of desire, taking them three at a time. I shift in needy response.

He growls, low in his chest while he grips my inner thighs, pushing them apart. “Keep still or I’ll make you.” I gasp at his provocative threat and on pure instinct and raw desire my hips tilt up by their own accord, crazy in its need for any contact. His hands slip around, cupping my backside as he pushes his nose into my sex, inhaling deeply.

Oh my fucking my!

“Christian please,” I moan, begging for more.

When he comes away I catch his gaze. His eyes look unfocussed – cross-eyed with lust. “I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you so much.” His expression a strange blend of pain and elation, whispered words born of desperate need. He swiftly stretches to cover my body with his, kissing me wildly.  He raids my mouth mercilessly, our arms and legs tangling and writhing, taking in the exquisite pleasure of intimate contact.

He rolls taking me with him and we pause for air, our breaths mingling and faces flushed. With my body on top of his I stroke my hand over the sprinkling of stubble, reacquainting myself with every curve and dip of his face. “You are so precious, thank you for taking another chance on me.”

Another low hum is his reply and he closes his eyes as my gratitude sluices over him – clearly striking a cord. “Come here.” It’s a carnal command but I don’t understand and I raise an unsure brow. Where does he want me to go, I’m already here?

“Come, sit here, on my chest.” He pats his sternum. His silky voice is dripping with erotic promise.

I scoot up, eager to find out what passionate delight he has in store for me. It only takes a second for me to grasp the nature of the deeply intimate act he has in mind and I gnaw at my lip, my coyness getting the better of me.

My legs are bent with my knees resting on either side of his head. My bottom sits on his chest, taking my weight which leaves my secret opening utterly gaping and vulnerable, not to mention very close to his sinful mouth. I can feel his breath on me, fluttering and making my heart stutter.

His affirmative nod is unhurried but no less compelling, it says that I won’t dare deny him this pleasure. With his eyes securely fastened to mine his intent is unwavering and unaffected by my modesty. His sure hands move around and grip my backside firmly, holding me in place. I get a sense of how easy it will be for him to control my pelvic movements from this position and it stirs me, being in his power like this.

With my head bowed forward, the loose tendrils of my hair spill over my shoulders and cover my breasts; only the hard tips of my nipples are peeking from between the strands. His eyes linger on them for a moment before he presses me onto his mouth.

“Aahh,” I moan falling forward from the exquisite relief of his touch. I brace myself on rigid arms, my hands flat on the bed just above his head. He takes full advantage of my breasts so close to his face, clamping a hot mouth over the bud and sucking hard.

I shudder and mewl in ecstasy. When I try to right myself to sit up again; he bites down before letting me go. This delight sends my back arching and pelvis thrusting forward, playing straight into his waiting tongue’s hand.

Avaricious velvet licks at me with long wet strokes and I lose all reason, focussing fiercely on that one tiny spot of overriding pleasure. His tongue slips inside me and my body tenses at the unexpected intrusion before avidly relaxing into it, slicking in response.

He usually likes to watch me react to his ministrations but now his eyes are closed and rapture is what I read on his face. It’s such a turn on, I can barely watch through my heavy lids for fear of spontaneous combustion.

The shallow penetration of his smooth tongue is doubly erotic because I can watch his face contorted with pleasure while he’s devouring me. He breaks the contact and gently blows on my sensitive, heated flesh, cooling but not calming. I whimper, violent desire slamming into me.

“Touch yourself Anastasia, touch your breasts. I want to see you.” If I wasn’t so close to him I wouldn’t have heard him, his voice is raw and strained.

This is so intimate, so hot, so very Christian and I want nothing more than to please him. I reach for my breasts and cup them. I knead and squeeze and hear his appreciative groan. It spurs me on and I run my hands all over my chest and breasts, pushing them together before I start on my nipples.

He spears me with his tongue but his eyes are on me, following every swipe and swirl of my hands. I push myself onto his strong tongue. His eyes crinkle at the corners, indicating a smile at my eagerness. When he flexes his tongue I pinch my nipples – hard and gasp. I can feel the orgasm building, my body awash with sexy sensation.

“Eyes open Ana!” he growls as his hands grip harder on the soft muscle of my buttocks. Then he licks me over the length of my sex, finding my swollen clitoris and the spiralling begins, spinning like a top. My lids are almost drawn but I keep my eyes trained on him until I can’t anymore as my back arcs and my head lash, screaming his name in release.

When I open my eyes I’m flat on my back and Christian is poised over me, lying between my legs as an urgent erection prods for attention at my entrance. I’m still breathing hard and very dazed, coming down from my explosive climax. He hooks one of my legs over his shoulder and rims me with an exploring finger to check for lubrication. He obviously likes what he finds, “Oh Ana!” it’s almost a sob and I swallow his cry with my mouth as he plunges into me, right to the hilt.

We moan together and our union is complete. Immediately he starts to move, his strokes long and hard – unerring. His hands curl into my hair, pinning my head in place. His zealous desire is driving him on and I revel in him getting lost in me. He angles his hips, impatient to feel the length of me. We lock our gazes, twin expressions of reverential love and wonder on display for one another.

In moments like these our connection is so strong, so deep I realise why I sometimes think it must be fantasy. Even here, right now it’s hard to believe that love can burn so bright, so hot but I choose to trust my senses, showing me this beautiful man, unravelling in the pleasure of being with me.

Watching him I climb again, emotional and physical stimulation colliding to bring me to the cliff again where I pause for a second. He senses my body start its telling tremble. He kisses me roughly before he commands, “come for me baby.” I obey and fall – spectacularly, clenching around him, strengthening our lush friction and clawing at his sweat slick back.

Christian takes his cue, “thank fuck!” he spits through a gritted jaw, emptying himself into my depths. Eyes closed he kisses my inner thigh, next to his ear then gently unhooks my leg. He wraps me in his arms, but doesn’t withdraw when he rolls us onto our sides.

With languid bodies and tangled limbs we lie facing each other and silently marvel at our dazzling reunion – sated for now. It’s an age before I dare to pierce the glow with speaking.

“Chri…” I start but he kisses me quiet.

“I wan…” again his lips eat my words and I giggle.

“I know what you want to say.” he kisses my cheek, the corner of my mouth and my chin.  “I don’t want to hear it.” The tip of my nose is next, followed by my eyebrow. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, it’s over, we’re together.” Now he’s kissing my temple and trails back down to my mouth where he deepens the kiss.

He anticipates my apology like he can read my mind, grasping that my guilt still makes me feel unworthy. I can’t help feeling like I have so much to make up for. I make a mental note to apply myself to coming up with ways to show him how much I regret our separation and how much I love and trust him.

When he’s certain that I’m reassured he breaks away. He brushes the hair off my face, “you hungry?” his gaze is soft with love.

I grin, glad that I can tell him yes and bat my eyelashes coquettishly at him, “starving!”

His expression is the picture of excitement, taking joy in the simple pleasure of looking after me by feeding my body. “I’ll call room service. While we wait we can take a shower.”

When he finishes the call he spanks my dozing behind, “up you get sleepyhead.” I watch him walk away, it’s the first time I get an opportunity to have a good look at him. He’s in magnificent shape and at least ten pounds heavier but it’s all pure muscle – flexing and cording tantalizingly as he moves. He’s obviously working out more. Yummee, I’m a lucky, lucky girl.

I pad across the room to the bathroom and join him in the cascading water. I’m grateful for the steam that hides my shy blush at being so naked in front of him. I don’t know if I’ll ever be as comfortable in my skin as he is. He doesn’t turn immediately and I get a fantastic view of the perfect triangle of his back. Both hands are in his hair massaging shampoo into his scalp, making his biceps bulge and my satiety disappears along with my shyness.

I move right up to his back and run my hands along his sculpted form, easily gliding around the slick curves. I can’t resist grabbing his firm behind and he spins around, shocked by my brazenness but smiling. He catches my wrist and steps forward while pulling me close. His eyes switch from glowing to stormy in a heartbeat and he nudges my sex with his leg that’s wedged between mine. “You want more Ana?”

His words are always inflammatory but the tone is the things that liquefies my insides and my eyes flutter closed, so drawn to him, so needy. When I open them again I enjoy watching him get knocked askew by the profound need he sees in their depths.

He makes a feral, guttural sound and in an instant he’s on me, driving me back against the wall and kissing me with an urgency that leaves us both winded. His mouth is all over my face, kissing, sucking, licking, biting – he’s ferocious in his attack. His hands mirror his lips, plundering every inch of my skin he can reach, rubbing, moulding, scorching. I reciprocate as hard and as fast as I can, never more grateful that he tolerates my touch.

His lips make it to my ear, nipping and licking me closer to the building quake inside of me. “Jeez Ana, I can’t get enough of you, I can never get e-fucking-nough!” His arms circle my hips, lifting my buttocks.

I take the not so subtle hint and band my legs around him. “Yes!” I hiss my demand. Without preamble he fills me, pounding hard and I take every thick slide of him drilling me to the slippery tiles.

A tenacious finger dives between us, quickening my clitoris with expert pressure. My senses are so overwhelmed all I can do is hold on for the inevitable shattering. His head bends to my chest where his tongue swipes across the ink – worshipping his name, written these as a sign of his possession. The shower’s done very little to diminish the script and watching him adoring our bond like that must be one of the most intimate, erotic things I’ve ever seen, my sex contracts in an adulating spasm.

He answers with a growl and skates his lips over to my breast, first milking then biting my nipple sending compounding darts to my groin and it’s all I can take. I splinter into a million pieces, forgetting myself, only aware of him pulsing wildly inside me.

Holy cow! Was it always like this? So intense? I rake my memories while we catch our breaths, his face in my neck with my arms holding him there. He helps me stand then spends long moments looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. He pushes back my hair, his fingers finding and releasing hairpins as they go before he starts washing it, massaging my head with his glorious strong fingers.

The look in his eyes has me by the throat, his touch is exquisite but I’m worried that he’s suddenly so quiet. “Christian what’s wrong?” I ask, looking to meet his gaze.

He keeps his focus trained on his hands working my scalp and takes a steeling breath. “I’m overcome Ana, you have me under siege.”

Honest and romantic, what more can a girl want? My heart jams with emotion for him, packed full – I feel the same way.

I decide there and then not to sully our new union with mind games and reservations. I want to give him the gift of certainty. “I feel the same way, I lose myself in you and it scares me too but I’d rather be scared than without you.” I place my palm on the side of his face, gentling him to look at me. “I love you Christian Grey – with everything I have.”

My words seem to drive the fear from his mind and I’m rewarded with his full HD smile before he crushes me to him, kissing the top of my head. “Come, let me feed you.” I love that he’s accepting my words. There was a time when he would refuse to believe that he was worth loving. We’ve both grown in so many ways.

We slip on fluffy white robes and Christian waits while I twist my hair in a towel. He takes my hand and we share a besotted look before we head to the lounge, ditching the idea of the formal table for dinner. His beauty still manages to amaze me but it’s his unexpected tender nature that never fails to blow my mind.

It comes as no surprise that the food is stunning. Christian’s ordered a wide selection of entrees and we taste a little of everything, savouring our way through the meal. While we eat we slip effortlessly into chatting. Christian tells me about his trip to Seoul and he seems pleased with the outcome even though the whole ordeal sounds insanely stressful however, you would never say it looking at the fantastically handsome and relaxed man in front of me. Mmmmmhhhhh…..

My lips tug into a smile which he instantly answers with a questioning brow, probably because of the rosy flush accompanying it. I drop my watch as my teeth find my lip. His fingers are quick to release it, pinching it gently away. He cocks his head, amused. “Don’t do that, you know what it does to me,” he grumbles. “Rather tell me what you’re thinking about?” his husky invitation curls my toes.

I can’t supress my grin or face his smirk as his grey eyes brighten with mirth. “I was uhm…, thinking about your uhm…, impressive performance earlier.”

“Impressive huh? I’m glad you enjoyed it Anastasia.” His smirk has turned downright dirty now, wringing out every ounce of my awe and loving it. “Maybe, if you’re lucky,” he quirks a brow, “you can have a repeat performance.”

No! Surely not!

He laughs out loud at my big, stunned eyes nearly popping out of my head. “We aim to please Anastasia.” He shrugs his shoulders casually, still so smug that the words cat and cream comes to mind. “I told you, it’s been a while.”

Now that the issue has come up the question is burning a hole in my brain. I clamp my mouth shut in protest but I’m dying to know.

My effort doesn’t go unnoticed and he laughs again, mercifully it’s good-natured. “Is there something you want to ask me Ana?”

Some things never change! I fume – I’m still an open book to him.

“No!” I say a little too loudly, his teasing has made it impossible to ask with dignity so I try my best to look unruffled, concentrating on my food instead.

Without warning Christian drops everything he’s doing and dashes up only to crouch in front of me. A beseeching look has replaced the playful one from a second ago and I feel my pulse jumping with unease.

Uh-oh.

“Anastasia, listen to me.” Big hands curl around my upper arms, the laser focus of his slate eyes beam into me and the stern line of his brow is serious, urgent. “I don’t ever want that to happen again. I don’t ever want to see you too scared or uncomfortable to ask me something. I don’t care what it is.” It’s a heart gripping plea – unrelenting, unflinching. “I’m not losing you again.”

“I… I’m sorry.” I choke out, wanting to injure myself. Wow, that has to be a personal best for me. It only took me what, three hours to screw up?

He chides me with a shake of his head, “don’t be sorry baby, talk to me. Please.”

I suck in some air. Okay, take a good look at what’s happening here, I will myself. He’s still terrified. As realisation filters through my natural instinct to blame myself for everything, I see an opportunity. I wanted to show him how much I care and regret what happened so here’s my chance. I have to hit him with the large doses of the reassurance that he still needs.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Hiding my thoughts and feelings had become second nature to me as I walked around as broken as I was.

“There are so many things I want to ask you, so many things we still need to work out but we have time and apart from the urgent stuff we’ll catch up along the way. I promise you I won’t run. I don’t want you living your life in fear of what I might do.”

He sits down on the thick carpet and pulls me off the couch, onto his lap. “We’ll get there baby, we need to learn to trust each other again. I want you to communicate with me and I’ll try to be as forthcoming as I can.”

I lodge my head under his chin, my ear to his heart. It’s a place that’s always brought me serenity, my body’s rhythm recognizing and melding with its destined mate’s. I sense that he’s waiting for me to start talking but I can’t help being a little apprehensive, some answers I might not want to hear.

After a breath and a swallow I start. “How long has it been?” I slip my arm around his back with the other, gently combing through his chest hair. It’s easier not to see his face and hide mine at the same time.

“I can’t give you exact dates but about two, two-and-a-half-years.”

I keep my body as still as possible, I don’t want to react in any way that might jeopardise his obliging exchange of information.

Christian Grey, insatiable sex beast has not had sex in over two years! Holy freakin’ cow!

There’s no way I can deny that I’m thrilled, ecstatic even but I wonder at what price his chastity came.

I venture further into the enigmatic and private head of Christian Grey, encouraged by his last answer. “Did you have another romantic relationship after I left?”

His snort is an ugly one – derisive, “uh, no.” it’s as clear and definitive as a girl can hope for. I’m about to leave it there for the moment but he continues and I sit quietly, hoping that he’ll never stop talking.

“After you left there was no one for a long time, I was desperately trying to find you and when I did, to make contact with you.” I draw my knees further up. Making myself smaller as the familiar shame tears through me. Christian doesn’t seem to notice. He’s taken the towel off my head, absentmindedly pulling his long fingers through my damp hair.

“When I finally got it through my head that it was over, shortly after you had Chris, I tried to forget about you. I tried so hard.” His hurt is threading through my veins as if it’s my own.

I straighten, turning to face him. There’s something I have to get off my chest, “I did that to you, you should be so mad at me!” it’s my turn to plead with him, still not understanding why he’s not hell bent on punishing me.

“Are you going to start that again Ana?” he spits at me, eyes fuming.

Hey presto! You wanted him angry! – The sarcasm from my subconscious is extremely unwelcome right now.

“What do you want? Do you want me to be mad, to yell? Hit you, what? What would it take to get you to back off from this subject? It. Is. Over!”

Oh boy, he is mad.

In the spirit of your new open communication policy I confess:  “I don’t know, I just want you to understand how sorry I am. Please don’t be mad. I’m sorry.” My eyes brim with tears and I hold my finger to his lips before kissing them for good measure. “Don’t be mad at me, not tonight.”

“Believe me Ana, I know. I feel the same.” He laces his fingers through mine, holding my hand then kissing the back of it.

The desperate lilt scratches at the raw places on my heart. It reminds me that we may never overcome his self-loathing issues. The thing is; I’m not holding anything against him. Maybe I should take him at his word and accept that he’s doing the same for me. We’re both in the same boat. We can’t function apart but we’re terrified of being hurt.

He interrupts my revelation, “you get how confusing you are right?” he casts me a dubious look and I answer him with a questioning one.

Huh?

“You tell me to be mad at you then beg me not to be.”

Oh yeah, I see what he means and because I don’t want him to withdraw and I don’t want to fight, I make light of it. “I’m a girl, I can’t be held responsible for the mysterious ways my mind works.” I give him my best bimbo flutter.

He sighs, his mouth tugging into a smile that he tries valiantly to curb.

I kiss him again, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please, continue.”

Thank goodness for his mercurial ways. He tucks me back under his chin and strokes my back with his fingertips.

After a beat or two he restarts. “I first sought out Elena.” He hugs me closer when he feels my body stiffen at the mention of her name. “I hadn’t seen her since that night, on my birthday but I thought maybe – because of our history – she could help me.”

I close my eyes, wishing I could fast forward through this part. Please, please, please don’t tell me you slept with her – anyone else is fine, just not her.

“It was a mistake. She… repulsed me. It was a shock.” He says darkly and I let out a surreptitious breath.

Hallelujah!

“I was angry. At you, at my birthmother, at myself – the whole world and the urge to beat the crap out of something came back with a vengeance. I lined up a few subs, hard-core girls that I usually wouldn’t see. Girls that were known on the scene for enjoying heavy punishment.” His tone has gone eerily flat.

My heart has stammered into my throat, blocking my airway. Fear’s cold fingers are cooling my skin. I drove him to violence.

“And I gave them what they were after. Fuck!” the note of surprise in his voice is unsettling, like he wasn’t aware of what he did until now. “I beat the crap out of them.” Regret is seeping from his dark declaration.

He loses himself for a while, maybe choosing his words before he resumes in his quiet way. “Nothing helped. Not one bit and I just hated myself more.” He releases a long winding breath and scrubs a hand over his face. “Eventually I gave up. I started seeing Bastille twice a day, hit the gym over weekends and ran. I ran like I could outrun your shadow in my head.”

It explains why his body is in such great shape but every twist and turn of his tales leaves me more remorseful, gutting me open a little wider each time. The only consolation I have is that I’ve suffered the same.

I hear him take a fortifying breath, “what about you Ana? Anyone in your life?”

I’m taken aback by his question, doesn’t Mr Stalker know everything? “You honestly don’t know?”

His hands stills on my back and he humphs, “I know what my reports on you say but it’s impossible to cover every moment and detail. I would only know if you dated someone. Single dates and one-night-stands might be harder to uncover.”

I’m happy about the news I can give him. I know that my abstinence will go a long way to prove my words of contrition. “No Christian, not even a single date. Dr Shawn was the closest it got and like I said before, I only saw him as a friend.”

I revel in the hug he folds me in as he kisses my hair. “Mine.” He breathes simply.

I hug back – hard and close my eyes against the hopelessness I felt over the weekend, thinking that we were over. “I was beginning to lose hope – that you may never take me back and then after I gave you my contract….”

“I know baby. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight, things in Seoul were a real mess.” He sighs, “I really did want to discuss it with you but it wasn’t something I was prepared to do via e-mail, especially being as distracted as I was.” He shifts so I lift my head off his chest and our eyes find each other.

He kisses my lips ever so softly before boring into me again, searching the depths of my soul.

“What made you change your mind? It’s obvious that you’re still scared.” I drop my head as the rose blooms over my face but he lifts it back to lock our gazes.

“Apart from the contract and seeing that you were finally sure about what you wanted, I didn’t want to lose any more time. What’s the point? I was fighting it with everything I had and you just decimated it, like it was nothing. I think if I was honest with myself I knew that I’d take you back that very first day I ran into you.”

I gasp, experiencing his words like a blow and I decide to share the feeling as I punch him on his arm. “What? Of all the cruel…” I don’t get to finish as his mouth slants over mine, coaxing it open to slip his tongue inside, licking my protest away.

“Come, it’s late. Let’s get you to bed for round four, then I’ll let you sleep.” My belly flutters. His honeyed voice brings a stickiness to my thighs that I’m only too happy to indulge.

He pulls the cover off the bed and I drop my robe, turning the summer rain in his eyes to storm in an instant. “I need this one slow baby.” He says as he stalks me, his readiness evident. A tantalising shiver urges me to give myself willingly to his demand.

My naked body wakes up in a tangle of sheets and an empty bed. Images of the previous night tease my mind and I replay the sensual film in my head. Wow, no wonder my body feels so well used. I turn to my outstretched arm that’s splayed over Christian’s side and something catches the light – sparkling bright, like a mirror bathed in sun.

I blink before I realise that the sparkle is coming from my hand. My sex dazed brain struggles to figure out what it is so I lift my hand for closer inspection and lose my breath.

On my finger I’m wearing an enormous diamond ring. I’m no expert but I’m guessing three carats of brilliant cut diamond, nestled in the centre of an infinity sign that’s made up of platinum bands studded with tiny diamonds. How did I forget that Christian gave me this last night – or rather early morning?

A deep V borrows into my forehead as I try to recall what happened after Christian made slow, beautiful love to me. I remember my lax body only having enough energy to turn into his inviting spoon before promptly falling asleep in his arms. There’s nothing about a ring.

I’m a hundred and ten percent sure that I would’ve remembered. Did he slip it onto my finger while I was sleeping so that I could wake up to the surprise? My heart and belly flip over as my thought rings true, that sounds exactly like something he’d do.

Excitement bubbles in my veins and I jump out of bed, eager to show my appreciation. I hold a sheet to my chest and hunt for my romantic man. I find him fully dressed, looking delicious and on the phone.

He turns, sensing my presence, “…and the legislation in Vegas?”

His look sends shockwaves pulsing through my body. He’s eyes locks onto the ring on my hand that’s clutching the sheet in place before slowly sweeping his gaze down and up, finally finding my delighted but coy stare.

“Yes, that’s fine. Tonight then. Thanks.” He ends the call and drops the phone having lost all interest in it as he directs his full attention to me. I feel myself warm and unfurl under his steamy adoration.

With fluid grace he closes the distance between us, His full mouth arranged in a sinfully sexy grin. “Wow baby, you look hot wearing my ring and little else.” A soft rumble deep inside his throat and lingering kisses on my shoulder has me panting. All thoughts of thanking him vanish as he pries my fingers from the sheet, leaving it billowing to the floor.

His hands run the length of my sides – from the sides of my breasts to the flare of my hips. “I think breakfast can wait,” he purrs seductively.

I couldn’t agree more.

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Link to chapter 19