Wine and Poison, a fifty shades trilogy fanfic

Wine and Poison

AN: Lyrics are from The Civil War's song "Wine and Poison". I do not own those lyrics, nor do I own 50 Shades of Grey. This is my first fanfic of 50 Shades, please be nice. I was listening to this song and couldn't stop thinking about Ana and Christian when I heard these lyrics. I suggest listening to the song, but you don't need to to enjoy the story I wrote. Tell me what you think please? Deeply appreciated since I want to do one to another song sometime in the future. Heading titles are the character whose point of view follows.

You only know what I want you to

I know everything you don't want me to

Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine

You think your dreams are the same as mine

Oh I don't love you but I always will

I always will

I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back

The less I give the more I get back

Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise

I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you

Oh I don't love you but I always will [x7]

I always will [x5]

I taught this wide eyed beauty everything. She would still be the naïve girl who fell into my office if I listened to my gut and let her walk away from the horror I wanted to do with her. She wasn't ready for this, and now the only lovemaking she knows is one of pain, fear, and control. She doesn't know the pleasure it can bring away from the work, and now I don't think she ever will. I broke Anastesia Steele, yet she thinks I am the right one for her still. I don't love her like she wants me to. She is the image of my mother I will never get out of my head, she is the object of my satisfaction and I can't give her the hearts and flowers a woman as beautiful and stunning as she deserves.

I know my eyes and my expressions gives every emotion away, but she seems to keep hers hidden from me. The only emotion I can judge is when it becomes too strong and breaks through the blockade she seems to have put up. My Anastesia, she is so strong and capable, but that is all I know about her. I taught her all she knows about this lifestyle, told her every single secret of me and Mrs. Lincoln and my upbringing, yet she is able to hide the simplest things from me with ease. I will never know anything about here interior kings, unless there is a way I can draw them out of her...perhaps the riding crop she lives so much will aid me in my mission, if not I'm sure I can dig out that silver tie she loves so much...NO! I can't let me mind wander that way. She doesn't enjoy what I enjoy in the same way I do. Perhaps she will forever be a mystery to me, I don't have do the strength to torture her with her desire or pleasure- she is too important to me and I simply love her too much. Did I really just think that? How could I possibly love her, I don't know anything about love...I've merely been a spectator at the sport throughout my whole life.

But she tastes so good, just like the wine she loves so much- the wine I always enjoyed even before I knew her. It is the ploy she uses to drag me in, her skill set that always surprises me. How can I want more of this woman? I've never wanted more from any woman before and then this awkward uncivilized college student comes tripping and sliding into my office. Her lips taste of wine, it's what I associate those plump pink members with, yet her tongue acts as a poision, killing more and more of who I used to be with every sip. Of course I could stop if I could figure out how, but it's like a drug now- I could never stop, and I can never get enough. I taught her everything, she tells me nothing, and yet she pulls me in like a fine wine paired with the perfect meal and hooks me with one taste. I am an alcoholic to her wine; it is my undoing, my lethal poison that I will never cease to enjoy. I will walk around drunk all day now, and I am more than content with that thought. No way I could long to go back to my old lifestyle anymore. Perhaps I do love her, but I can't do that to her.

She will never be able to touch me, I can never let her touch me. As much as I know the touch is birthed from desire and love, all I see is the scars and agony those hands could leave- the same pain, discomfort, and agony my mother and her pimps inflicted upon me when I was only four. She wants hearts and roses, a big family after a wedding including Ray and Carol, she would invite Grace, Carrick, Elliot, and Mia as well, but they wouldn't come. I'm a monster; they would be upset with me for bringing this innocent girl into my troubles. Kate already hates me, Ray I'm sure is on his way to feeling the same way. Her dreams are so colorful, but mine are still grey, there is no way I could add joy and love to the dream she has, mine is nowhere close to her own. I bring pain and sorrow to everything I touch; I am too many shades of fucked up. I am almost certain since meeting Anastesia I have surpassed 50 shades easily, now I am sure I'm closer to 500.

I need to leave Anastesia, but this alcoholic is too attached to his supplier of fine wines and poison. There is no turning back now. I knew that the minute she left my office. I called Welch immediately after Miss Steele left my office to run a detailed background check. That's how I knew where she worked, where she was going to school, and of course how I figured she would soon be in troubled with that Jose kid. I ran straight for her, I was addicted even before I had my first taste of the wine upon her lips. It was the smell of it while it was airating in my office during the interview. It was strong and crisp, even seemed to defy its expectations and shock the taste buds with its defiance. I could never love another, and to think previously I thought I could never love any. I can't love you, but I always will.

My Fifty shades, teaching me things I never knew existed. He is the sex-pert, but I can't seem to figure him out. He is still so locked up on the inside and I fear there is no way for me to ever make it in. Perhaps if I keep teasing him he will eventually shed all fences and defenses he has put up in his life time. The fact that I can't hug him affects me most, but it seems like Grace and Carrick has figured it out. They show their love for him by touching his arms or rubbing the tops of his shoulders. Yet everything I mimic a movement, he cringes. I love him, but perhaps his dreams and desires don't match mine. Perhaps he doesn't love me, but I will always love him. He is my poison disguised as the same wine we drank out of teacups to celebrate my graduation. He is all I want, perhaps his desire is only to have me close, perhaps the reason why he doesn't reciprocate or express the same emotions I do is because he isn't sure how to do so. I am the first woman to ever defy the infamous and notorious Christian Grey, CEO of Grey Holdings Inc. What do I do to show my Fifty that I will never leave him again, he is all I could possibly ask for and there is no other way I could love another. He is my world, good or bad, or even fucked up to Sunday. I don't care, I love him and I always will. He is my poison that I'm sure will destroy the naive school girl who tumbled into his office and made a complete ass of herself, but he is also my wine, one that I cannot get enough of and never will.