Fifty Shades Reversed: four years later

Chapter 1

A/N: I feel it fair to warn you readers first that some of you might not care for this story or for the characters. But keep it in mind this takes place four years after Christian left Seattle. His life and that of Ana's have dramatically changed. Their characters and situation are much different than before. So, with that being said, if you find you don't like the story then hey, don't read it. Simple as that. Remember, this is my story and that's that. I'll write it how I want. And by all means, keep your snarky remarks to yourself! Also, this is not really a new story just a continuation of Fifty Shades Reversed. So those of you who think I've abandoned my other story, FS at Fault you are assuming falsely. There are technical issues with the story I am trying to work out but in no way have I forgotten about it. If I haven't said it before I'm saying it again: You fans and readers are awesome! I love you all. Okay, enough. Here you go. Oh, yes. This contains lemons. And I hate writing lemons. So it may show. Please be kind.

Ana's story

Mmm, the man sleeping next to me looks like an angel. But he's not. He's a sexy devil. And he proves it every time we make love. He's relentless and vigorous, yet sweet and gentle: A fuckin' powerhouse on and under the sheets. And he's mine all mine. The ring on my finger proves it. I never thought I'd make that trip down the aisle but I will be in a few months from now. He came back to me, saved me, made me strong again. I love him so much. My fiancé, my husband-to-be. I brush though few wisps of hair from his forehead and he stirs. His eyes flutter open and a warm smile appears on his face. I run my fingers through the hair on his mighty chest and kiss his shoulder. "Good mornin'."

"Good mornin' to you too." he breathes.

"You hungry? I'll make us some breakfast."

"Ravenous. But not for pancakes and bacon, my love, for more of your sweet tasting nectar."

Before I'm aware that mass of sensuality is on top of me, his hands caressing my shoulders, his soft lips capturing mine in a tender kiss. The invasion begins and our tongues entwine and dance. His hands travel down and start kneading my breast, pinching those hard erect nipples. Ohh, the sensation is felt all the way down to my core. His mouth leaves mine and moves down my neck toward my chest where he seizes and begins suckling one breast, his tongue licking and teasing, making me moan from the pleasure. So much pleasure that I… can't… hold on any more. My eyes close; my insides tighten, a loud gasp and I come. My betrothed is more than pleased but he's barely started his meal. His right hand begins its journey south down my hips past my tummy between my thighs to the sought destination: dripping wet and ready for his fingers to do their magic. And they are quick to the deed. One finger then two rubbing and circling; tickling and torturing that poor swollen little nub. Ohhhhhhhh! His tongue start teasing my folds: flicking and sucking, reaching upwards. He's feasting heavily on my 'thick, delicious honey'. So delectable the feel I don't want him to stop. And he doesn't, not even after I moan my fevered orgasm. Make that two. Enough, enough! I'm spent. But the beast eyes me with a smirk. I know that mischievous look. He still hasn't had his fill. He climbs between my legs, pulls my arms up over my head, secures my wrists tightly with one hand, balances himself with the other and ever so slowly enters the 'honey pot', swivels his hips. "Feel my cock, Baby. Feel how hard, how thick, how it reaches inside you."

"I do, I do." I moan, "You feel so good too." But as soon as I get use to his wide girth he slowly pulls out leaving me with an extreme unbearable vacancy. Arg! I want to scream it's so madding. This excruciating unhurried pace continues: In and out. In and out. Oh, maddening! Torment. Sheer, but gentle, torment. Gradually the tempo quickens to a mad rush where his every powerful thrust hits that 'elusive' G spot driving me higher and higher. He pounds harder and faster, the rhythm like a jackhammer. I can't take much more. My nails cut into his skin. My body squeezes tight around him; I tremble and fall into a violent orgasm screaming his name. He keeps lunging forcefully until he stills, growls my name and pours into me deep and full. Then my poor worn-out baby collapses on top of me. Two sweaty, panting bodies are as one. My arms are released and wrap around his muscular back. I feel his sweet breath at the side of my neck.

He pulls out and lies next to me on my right-hand side, a look of satisfaction on his face. "I counted four orgasms, my so-to-be Mrs. Cassidy. Shall we go for five? I'm still hungry."

"Oh, God, no." I pant, "I'm afraid you'll have to settle for pancakes and bacon, Mr. Cassidy. I'm whipped."

He growls with discontent. "But I haven't taken you from behind yet."

"You'll have to save that erection for tonight, you Irish tiger you. I have an important business meeting in a few hours. And I can't afford to be late."

"How about we don't wait and rectify that situation in the shower."

"No! You are insatiable, Aiden."

"For you, my sweet Ana, always. Besides, did you forget I'm leaving for Taiwan this afternoon? Going to be gone five days. That's five whole days without you."

"Humm, Well, in that case," I say as I climb on his hips, sink down onto his hard, thick cock feeling the tip all the way to my belly and start rocking. "I think a going away gift is at hand."

"That's what I'm talkin' about." His hips lift in response to my motion. "Fuck me, Baby, fuck me hard." Faster and faster we thrust and plunge. "Oh God Ana, you feel incredible. So slick and taut."

"You should talk, you monster, you." I can feel him on the edge and I'm tipping quickly too. I throw my head back in ecstasy, "Oh, oh, Oh! Aiden!" We crash together, and he fills me up again. God I love this man. His hands move to give my two pink cheeks a squeeze. I yelp and climb off. "I really must get going. And so must you."

"You're a party pooper, you are."

"A party pooper who must get ready for work. I've got to take a shower. Alone! I can't go to the office smelling of sex."

He disgruntledly gets up and follows me into the bathroom. "Why not? There's no sin in fuckin' the man you're engaged to before going to work."

"I know, I know." I reach to turn on the shower water. He pulls me back so our naked bodies touch; I feel his erection growing against my thigh. "Aiden, you are incorrigible."

"Incorrigible, insatiable. Which one is it, woman."

"Both. Now go while I shower. Shave that scruffy stubble or something."

"But I thought you liked it. Just as much as I like that beautiful bush between your legs."

He had me stop getting bikini waxes; said he likes the natural terrain. "Stop it, Aiden. Now go. Go! And no surprises. I want some privacy."

He leaves, but not happily. What a grumpypuss I'm marrying. I climb into the shower, the steam billowing up, filling the bathroom like a sauna, and let those luscious hot pellets rain on my body, drip down my legs and soak my long chestnut hair. Ahhhh, that feels delightful, relaxing. Just the thing I need to sooth my aching thighs. I reach down and grab my shampoo, jasmine scented, Aiden's favorite, and lather up. It sounds strange I know, but occasionally when I wash and rinse the bubbles from my brown locks I get this vision of someone, a smirking man with gray eyes, braiding them. Why, I haven't a clue. Funny, but I don't remember much about my past life, the life I led before I moved in with Aiden. From what he and one of our bodyguards, Kenny O'Neal tells me I was an emotional mess. Aiden had gone back to Ireland and when he returned to Seattle ten months later on business he found Steele Holdings had taken a turn for the worst and so had I. Thank God, Aiden came in and saved it, saved me. They said I had a nervous breakdown, had to be hospitalized. I shut down, wouldn't talk to a soul, would cry all the time; that I started drinking. Tried to kill myself even. I have no recollection of these facts. I've blocked those years from my mine completely. The brain is a wonderful tool that way.

He proposed six months ago. We were on vacation in The Bahamas casually walking on a beach when he got down on one knee in the sand, held up a ring and said, "Ana, my love, will you marry me?" Well, how could I say no to a strong man like Aiden kneeling on the shore begging for my hand. So I answered "Undeniably yes, Mr. Cassidy. I will marry you." I've never been prouder in my life then the day I said those words to him.

I grab the bath soap and start washing my body until there's not a hint of sex left on me. Then, with a dripping wet hand reach and hunt for the towel hanging from the rack. Got it! As I'm drying off Aiden comes back into the bathroom and makes a face at all the steam.

"What the hell? Have you used all the hot water, my love? Have you saved even a drop for my own shower?"

"Oh, please," I scoff, wrapping my wet hair in a turban then grabbing my terrycloth robe, "I'm sure there's plenty left."

Aiden playfully slaps my behind. "Well, there better be. If not I told you we should have showered together." I watch as he takes off the gray sweat pants that are hung loosely on his hips, and I sigh as those broad shoulders and sexy derriere disappear into the shower. But I cringe when he starts singing off-key. Certainly never going to be a candidate for Americans Got Talent. Thank goodness the sound of the hairdryer drowns it out.

I finished up before Caruso has completed his aria and go out to the bedroom to search for my lingerie: Black lace bra, panties, slip and black thigh-high hosiery. I begin donning my undergarments and before I get that slip on Aiden comes walking out of the bathroom stark naked drying his hair off with a towel. He sees me half dressed and Little Aiden, (who isn't little by no means) comes to attention: twang! Sorry, fella. I've had enough for today. But Goddamn, he's so hard to resist! The slip comes on quickly. So do the stockings and black Armani power suit I've chosen to wear. I step into my black Jimmy Choos and leave Aiden, and his boner, to get ready for the workday ahead.

Half an hour later my man comes striding out toward the kitchen where I'm sitting at the counter eating a bran muffin and sipping a cup of tea. Damn he looks hot in his navy Dolce and Gabbana suit and Italian shoes! He sit on the stool next to me, "Ana, have you thought any more about what we discussed yesterday, about you going off birth control once we're married?"

Oh, God, Aiden's been hinting for a month about children. What's this sudden desire to be a father? "Yes, and well, I'm too old to have a child, Aiden. Plus you and I, we're just too busy with our careers to be decent parents."

He lovingly brushes my cheek. "You're only thirty-one, my dear. That's in no way too old. And we'd be wonderful parents. Why, I've seen how you are with Tommy and Sara's children. You're quite the nurturer."

"It's just, I-I don't feel ready yet. And why have you suddenly this yearning to be a father?"

"I've always wanted to be a father, having a clan of my own. I had no real one growing up, and I think you and I, Ana, will make beautiful babies."

I realize now why he feels so strongly about family. "But the idea of pregnancy scares me, Aiden."

"I understand your hesitance, it's a lot to ask of you and I don't want you to think I forcing you into it because I 'm not. But please give it some more thought, okay? Now, it's time we left. But first, will you give me a big fat kiss goodbye that will last five days?"

"Of course. You needn't have asked." We hold each other tightly; our kiss is way more than passionate. Ooo, he smells so good, too: clean, fresh with a hint of Irish Spring. Lord, I'm getting drenched down there. If we weren't leaving, I'd take him right now.

His hypnotic green eyes stare into my entranced blue and his soft, low sultry Irish brogue murmurs, "Slán agat. A ghrá mo chroí, Ana."

"I love it when you speak Gaelic. And goodbye to you, Aiden. You are the love of my heart, too."

I grab my purse off the counter and together we walk out the door hand in hand into the bright of day, the clear sky and fresh scent of the morning air. O'Neal waits for me at my Saab SUV while Logan Michaels, Aiden's longtime friend and bodyguard, waits for him at his Porsche. We wave and say our adieus and wishes for his speedy return.

Our workday has begun.

"Here are the files you requested, Ms. Steele"

"Thank you, Benita. You can just set them on the corner."

"Anything else I can get for you?"

"No, no. I'm good. But thank you for asking."

"Oh, just a reminder the meeting is in forty-five minutes."

"Okay." I sure like her. Nice gal and very efficient. I don't know what I'd do without an assistant like Benita. She smiles, nods, and quietly closes my office door. I sigh and reach across and grab hold of those three demanded of files, very thick ones I might add. These files, which I've been studying for over a week, are of the three companies, Carrington Inc., Shellco, and Grey Enterprises, all are in a bidding war with us, Steele Cassidy Holdings (it was my idea for the name-change, not Aiden's ) for a contract in Venezuela. All the CEOs have agreed to come here and hopefully the results will prove in my favor. I'm very familiar with Shellco, the company from Montreal. No problem outbidding them. But the New York company, Carrington Inc., and Grey Enterprises from San Francisco, California, not so much. The latter must be new. I've never heard of it before. I want to look through each one while I have the chance before the meeting at 11:00, to get reacquainted with info that might prove very beneficial on our behalf.

By the looks of the clock on the right corner of my computer screen it's 10:53. Time to get the third floor conference room and get this deal to bed. I stand, straighten out my suit and walk briskly toward the elevator confidence as any powerful CEO would. I arrive to my said destination and find most of the CEOs and their lawyers are present: Mr. Gary Alexander from Shellco and his lawyer David White; Collin Carrington and his attorney, Percy Leigh and two representatives from Madista Shipping. Missing is Mr. Christian Grey from Grey Enterprises. Great. Just great. We're all willing to wait ten minutes for his Highness to arrive. Fifteen minutes pass and still no CEO but plenty of agitated ones. Where the fuck is that bastard? "Sirs, I guess Mr. Grey is a no-show. Let's go ahead and get the meeting started, shall we?"

I sit down, get my papers in order and begin to address the others who are extremely anxious to hear my speech. Before one word can be spoken I am interrupted by the conference room door swinging open and a tall, young handsome man, dressed in Levis, a white shirt and black leather jacket, carrying a motorcycle helmet under one arm storms through. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic is a bitch." He sets the helmet down, removes his Ray-Bans, shakes his shaggy mop of copper sun-bleached hair, strokes his short messy beard and starts shaking hands and making friendly introductions.

His mood changes when he comes face-to-face with me: not as pleasant as with the others. I'm somewhat wary, I mean, this person kind of does look like the man in my foggy memory banks. No, it couldn't be. Impossible. It's just a coincidence, that's all. But, oh… my… God! My breath hitches; I'm stiff from shock. Those gray eyes, those piercing gray eyes and that unforgettable smirk. "You're… Christian Grey?"

"Hello, Ms. Steele. Or is that Mrs. Cassidy now. Remember me?"

AA/N: You might have noticed I added a bit of Irish Gaelic language to this chapter. It is quite a fascinating language, too, Here is the pronunciation for the words used. Slán agat: sLaan agut. It means "Goodbye." A ghrá mo chroí: ah graw muh kree. That means "love of my heart." You might see more of this lovely language in later chapters. I promise you, I will try and update as often as I can. Not all that easy a task these days to do. Thank you.

Nan xo