Author's Note: I hate these. I hate Author's Notes. They're stupid. If the story can't speak for itself, then it's not worth reading. However. This is a fanfiction. And before you start judging me, understand that I did not like the trilogy. I thought it was poorly written, the characters were two-dimensional, and that it should have been edited twenty more times before even being considered for publishing. After all, it is not entirely her own fault. Besides that, I felt like this scene had so much more failed potential that I couldn't help but take it and run.
This scene takes place in Fifty Shades Darker after Christian is safely back at home after Charlie Tango bites the big one. The bit in brackets is a line straight from the book, just so you know where I'm picking up from. Everyone has gone home, Jose has gone to bed, and Christian and Ana are alone. With no further adieu, enjoy.
["It wasn't as bad as it sounds."]
And with that one sentence, I feel a wave of anger threaten to overwhelm me. This man, this man who I love, who is so obviously loved by so many other people, feels that his being lost for eight hours isn't anything to worry about. He takes himself for granted, debases himself so much, that he was surprised that we were all here, worried and waiting for him.
I feel the wave of tears threaten to overwhelm me and he reaches out, as if to comfort me before they even begin to fall. I smack his hand away.
The surprise on his face is nearly comical.
"And if it had been me?" I say. He flinches as if struck. "If I had disappeared for eight hours, after last being seen in a helicopter, without contact with anyone, how would you feel?"
He stares at me, speechless.
"Or Mia? Or Grace? What if it had been them? What if they suddenly disappeared for eight hours? How would you feel?"
"Okay, Ana, I get your point." He runs a hand through his hair, exasperated.
"I don't think you do," I whisper.
His eyes dart back to mine and I see a hint of fear? Maybe he is starting to understand.
"I want to show you," I say, barely succeeding in making my voice stronger than I feel inside. What I have in mind is something so far out of my experience zone, I kind of doubt he'll accept. But I also believe it's something that I can do, that I should do. For both of us.
"Show me what?"
I approach him so we're standing inches apart. "Do you trust me?"
He blinks and the fear in his eyes is almost palpable. I wait patiently for his answer. Finally, he says, "Yes. I trust you."
I gaze into his eyes. I know he does trust me. But does he trust me with what I want to do? "I want you on your knees."
He blinks, surprised. Then a smile comes onto his face.
Before he can speak, I place a finger over his lips. His amusement has sparked just enough anger within me to bring the dominance, the force back into my voice. "This is no joking matter. You trust me, so you say. And I want you on your knees. Now."
He swallows. We stand there for a moment, a power of wills. After the day that I had, I know I won't back down. But I know it must be difficult for him. He is so used to power, to having the power and wielding the power, that giving it up must be like moving a mountain. But I know he's experienced as a sub. He submitted to me once, when I didn't even ask for it. Now I'm asking for it.
Finally, he sinks to his knees without a word.
In the back of my mind, I know Mrs. Jones or Taylor, or even Jose, could come into the room at any moment. But I don't care. I don't plan on being in this room for very long.
As the nervousness and self-doubt start to rise - can I do this? Can I really do this? Is this Christian, my Christian, all power and dominance really kneeling at my feet awaiting my command? - I remember that phone call I got, when I was told Christian was missing. I remember seeing his mother, falling apart at the seams. I remember his sister, pacing to hide the shaking. I remember my own fear, that fear that had me praying to God and staring into a fire without actually seeing it. My fear that was so intense, I found breathing difficult. And I beat the nervousness and self-doubt back down.
He is in the sub position, hands on his thighs, eyes downcast, absolutely still. I walk slowly around him. "You disappeared today, Christian. For eight hours. Eight long hours. I thought you were dead. Your mother thought you were dead. If you weren't dead, we thought at the very least your helicopter had crashed, that you were dying or hurt and suffering or in a hospital somewhere with no contact information on you. How dare you leave the house with a phone low on battery? How dare you not contact us the first chance you had? How dare you act like your life is so worthless that it's ridiculous for your family to be worried about you?"
"I'm sorry," he begins to say.
I bend so we're eye to eye. "That was a rhetorical question, Christian, and I think you know that. Do not speak out of line again. Do you understand?"
He is shocked. He gapes for a moment, at a loss for what to say.
"'Yes, ma'am' will do for now, Christian," I say.
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. Where was I?" I go back to walking around him. His head bows again. My inner goddess is tapping her foot, chin held high, nodding at every word I say. "Oh yes. We were worried about you, Christian. For the rest of the night, I want you to understand that the fear you would have felt had I, Grace, or Mia been lost for eight hours is the same fear we felt for you. You put us through that, unnecessarily, thoughtlessly. If I don't get back to you in an hour, you start to worry, yet you put me through eight hours. Eight long, gruesome, terrifying hours. It was completely disrespectful, unwarranted, and rude. And hurtful."
His eyes dart up to me, worry etched around his eyes. He says nothing.
"Yes, you hurt me. You didn't think it was important enough for you to tell me where you were. Tonight, I'm going to show you just how important you really are. Stand up."
He stands, slowly. I can see in his eyes the fear, the worry, the shame. I hold tight to my anger. It's the only thing keeping my knees from buckling, keeping me from jumping into his arms and asking him to fuck me senseless. That's not what we need right now. And I think he knows that.
"Follow me," I say. I begin walking, not even checking to see if he follows.
In the bathroom upstairs, I close the door behind us. I make sure the lid is down on the toilet and then I point to it. "Sit."
He obeys me without a word.
I lean over the bath tub and start up the water, putting the stopper in when the temperature is satisfactory. Then I turn back to Christian.
I bend so I'm looking at him, eye to eye again. "Do you know what the safe words are?"
He nods.
"Repeat them to me, including what they mean."
"Yellow is to slow down. Red is to stop." His voice is subdued and it grips my heart.
I nod. "Use them at any time, Christian." We lock eyes for a moment and he looks so scared and lost that I can't help but kiss him on the lips. Not our usual demanding, feverish, can't-wait-to-fuck-you kiss. Just a chaste kiss, but it's enough. "I love you, Christian. You understand that, don't you?"
"Yes, ma'am," he says.
"Tell me," I say.
"I love you, too, ma'am."
I shake my head. "No, Christian. Tell me I love you."
He is confused.
I smile. "Christian, repeat these words: You love me."
His eyes widen in understanding. Then he swallows. Obviously this is difficult for him, though why it should be is a mystery. It breaks my heart.
"You... love me," he stammers.
"Yes, yes I do," I say. I lightly trace his jaw with my knuckles, relishing in the way he closes his eyes and leans into my touch. "I am going to undress you." His eyes fly open. "I am going to touch you. I am going to bathe you. I am going to dry you. I am going to love you and make love to you."
His breathing speeds up slightly. I kiss him again on the lips and the way he leans in and tries to deepen the kiss nearly has me undone. I put my hands on his shoulders and push him away, licking my lips. His eyes are dark and eager.
"Instead of saying yes, I want you to say something else."
His eyes are still on mine. He is listening.
"I want you to say, 'I am loved.' Do you understand?"
"Yes ma'am," comes out of his mouth before he has time to think. I stare at him only for a moment, silent, before it dawns on him. His eyes widen again, his breathing quick. "I... I am loved," he corrects himself.
I smile at him, proud. "Yes. Yes you are. A lot." I begin unbuttoning his shirt. "Now, instead of saying no, I want you to say something else as well."
His eyes are on his shirt, my hands, my eyes. He doesn't know where to look and he begins to look a little like a deer in headlights. I stop momentarily.
"Christian. I love you. I will never do anything to hurt you, you understand that, right? A nod or a shake will do."
He nods vigorously.
"And you know the safe words." I put my hands on his cheeks and kiss his lips again. "I'm going to continue. Don't be scared. It's just you and me in here. Just you and me. And I'm not going anywhere."
He leans forward with his head, capturing my lips in a kiss. I allow it, for a moment, before pulling away again.
I go back to unbuttoning his shirt, maintaining eye contact the entire time. His eyes look a little less scared. "Instead of no, I want you to say something positive about yourself. For instance, you could say, 'I am a very caring human being.'"
He closes his eyes for a moment, eyebrows creased. I finish unbuttoning his shirt and start to slide it off his shoulders. I realize he's trembling, muscles taut with tension. I wonder briefly if I should stop but he hasn't said the safe words yet.
I toss the shirt to the side and pull on a belt loop so he will stand. "Keep your hands at your sides. I want to do all the work." I unbutton his jeans and take off his belt. Then I slide his jeans down his legs. His boxes are smooth over his crotch. He must be terrified. Considering I haven't mentioned anything about physical punishment or reprimanded him for anything he's done so far, it makes my blood boil as to how Mrs. Robinson must have treated him. She's the only person he's ever subbed for before. I grit my teeth and push down the anger. If I'm going to be angry at anyone, it's Christian for all he put me through tonight. I can deal with Mrs. Robinson later.
I slide off his boxers and move up to remove his watch. I rub his arms gently, soothing. Then I tap my lips, requesting a kiss. He acquiesces, bending down and planting a kiss on my lips. It is neither chaste nor feverish. It is somewhere in the middle. Needy. Accepting. Requesting, even.
"In the bath," I say.
He obeys instantly.
"Sit." As he does so, I lather up a washcloth with soap, rinsing his chest with water before I begin to lather.
His jaw is tight with tension and he is looking straight ahead, not at me.
"Christian," I say. His eyes find mine. "Have you eaten today?"
Confusion flashes into his eyes. Then a hint of amusement. Shame. "N..." he begins to say before he remembers the rules. Then he turns white as a sheet. I continue lathering his chest, perhaps a bit more than is absolutely necessary. "I... am... a..." He glances at me, at a loss for words.
"Take your time," I say.
"I am a..." He pauses again, his breath catching.
"Just this once, you may use the example I gave you. It applies to you."
He looks at me again, struggling.
I nod, encouraging him.
"I am a... caring... human being."
I kiss him on the lips, running my tongue over his lips but backing off when his mouth opens. "Yes. Yes, you are a very caring human being." I rinse his chest. "However, my palm twitches slightly at the fact that you haven't eaten today."
A laugh bursts out of him. Then he catches himself and resumes his stoicism.
I continue bathing him, his back, his arms, his legs, his penis which is still flaccid, but at my administrations begins to perk a little.
"You do understand how you frightened us all today, don't you?" I ask him.
"I... I am very loved."
His added word pleases me greatly and I smile ear to ear. I kiss him full on the lips, delving my tongue into his mouth, tasting him. When I pull back, we are panting. "Yes, you are very loved."
He smiles slightly.
"Tell me. Will you ever leave the house again without a charged phone?"
His smile fades. "I... am... a..." He struggles again. I take his hand in both of mine, wash it, even though I already have, rinse it, and kiss each knuckle, slowly, carefully, maintaining eye contact the entire time. "Very fortunate human being."
I laugh. "No, that doesn't count. Fortunate applies to things that have happened to you, things you have no control over. I want something that applies to you that comes from within. Try again."
He licks his lips. "I am a..." He closes his eyes briefly. "Beautiful human being."
"Yes, yes you are so beautiful. Absolutely stunning. Gorgeous. Can't keep my eyes or my hands off you."
He is looking at me, pleased. He is so eager for my approval. Oh, if he only knew, only accepted that I do approve of him. I am so proud of him.
I am done bathing him, so I pull the stopper. "Stand up." I offer my hand as he steps out of the tub and I wrap a towel around him. "You are a very rich man," I say. "More than in money. You have family. You have respect. You have love. There are so many people who would be devastated if something happened to you. You understand that, right? I would be, your mother would be, Mia would be absolutely heartbroken if something happened to you. You get that, don't you?"
"I am loved."
"So very loved. I am filled to the brim with love for you, Christian." He hasn't flinched even once while I have been toweling him dry and in fact, he is standing at attention. In every way. "Next time something happens, god forbid, you will contact someone right away, first chance you get. Understood?"
"I am loved." He is saying the words easier now, eagerly.
"And the next time you get into the helicopter, you make sure you have something to eat, either before the flight or you bring something on board with you, understood?"
"I am loved."
"You wouldn't like it if I went eight hours without eating, would you?"
His jaw tensed again. "I am... an intelligent human being."
"Apparently not today, you weren't." I grin at him. "But yes. Usually, you are a very intelligent human being. All the more reason why I can't believe you did something like this."
I turn on my heels and walk out of the room, crooking a finger over my shoulder for him to follow.
I point to the bed. "Lay down on your back."
He obeys without question or hesitancy.
"Hands behind your head." Once he is situated, I crawl over him, still fully clothed. My hands ghost over his chest and he tenses, momentarily. "Do you want me to stop?" I ask.
His eyes close for a moment. "I am... a generous man."
"Mmm," I hum in appreciation. "A very generous man. All of this, this wonderful, beautiful body is mine, all mine, to do with as I wish. And I want to make it sing."
He groans, eyes closed.
My fingers find his nipples and they roll them. "I love it when you do this to my nipples." I pinch them slightly. "And this." I lick his right nipple, swirling my tongue around the tip. "And this." I blow slightly on the wet nipple and it stiffens. He is tense again, rigid, but it's not terror or fear this time. I kiss the side of his mouth, pulling away right as he turns into it.
I lay feather-like kisses all across his chest, his ribs, his stomach, his abdomen. Then I go down to his knees, kissing my way up one leg, then the other leg, licking here and there. His cock is leaking with pre-cum.
I lick his balls and his body stiffens. "Do you like that?" I ask.
"Ye... I am loved," he says.
"Oh, my beautiful man, so obedient. You're doing great. I think you deserve a reward." I pull his balls into my mouth, rolling them around, licking, sucking. The sounds coming from him are driving me wild and I struggle to maintain control. I release his balls and lick the base of his cock. I trail kisses all around the base. Then I lick the pre-cum away and he groans again. "Mmm, oh Christian, you taste good. Here." I lay across him and kiss him, letting him taste himself in my mouth. "Tell me. Do you want me to stop?"
"N..." he groans. "I taste good," he says, his eyes meeting mine, all ablaze, dark, and heavy with need.
I chuckle. "Yes, yes you do. In fact, you taste so good, I want more." I slide back down his body, enveloping his cock in my mouth, wrapping my lips around my teeth and sliding him down my throat. A deep rumble comes from his chest and I look up to find him gripping the sheets behind his head, his eyes on me now, squeezed shut now, then back on me. I alternate, speeding up, swirling my tongue to my heart's content, and slowing down right as his breathing starts to hitch. I do this several times until he has a light sheen of sweat all over his body. Right as his breathing start to hitch again, I stop.
He growls.
"Guess what, my love? It's Saturday." His eyes pop open and his mouth opens in an O. I turn just enough to present him with my zipper. "Unzip me." He does, slowly, and when he has finished, I step out of my dress, taking off my shoes, my panties, and my bra, slowly as I stand beside the bed. His eyes never leave mine and if he had the permission to speak or even to move, I'm sure this would be all over with by now. Slowly, I crawl back onto the bed. "Your fingers, Christian. I would like them inside me. I want you to see what you do to me." His hand is instantly under me, his fingers inside me, sliding across my clitoris. I know I am practically dripping with need.
He groans, eyes shut.
"Christian." His eyes open again. "I want your eyes on me. I love you. You make me wet and ready. You won't ever intentionally or accidentally make me worry about you like this again, will you?"
"I am successful," he says without hesitation, fingers still inside doing wondrous things to me.
"Yes, yes you are. And you are very remorseful about what you did today, aren't you?"
"I am loved," he says, his thumb now pressing and circling against my clitoris, making me close my eyes and bite my lip.
"Christian. Your punishment is over. Make love to me."
"With pleasure," he says as he flips me over. Instantly, he's inside me, his arms are wrapped around me. He is kissing my shoulder, my neck, my face, my lips, everywhere and I can't keep up. He is moving inside me so slowly but with such a strong force, such feeling that I am pretty sure this is the most he's ever been inside me. His arms are wrapping around me, holding me close as if he's afraid I'll slip away. Then he's using his hands to roam across my breasts, pinching my nipples the way I had pinched his. I am a moaning, shivering, trembling mess beneath him as he sinks himself deep inside me and pulls out again, so sweet and so slow. My hands are caressing his arms, his shoulder, and we lock eyes. There is no fear, no pain in them. Only want.
He speeds up and I meet him, moving as one, in perfect unison.
"Oh Ana," he says. "My Ana. I love you."
"Christian," I pant. "Christian. Christian. Oh Christian." I feel my orgasm build and it overcomes me, tears of healing and forgiveness and happiness streaming down my cheeks. I feel him above me, reaching his climax at the same time, and he buries his face into my neck, my arms wrapped around him. I never want to let this man go.
As we lay there, spent and sticky in such a sweet and satisfying way, he leans up on one arm. "Anastasia Steele, I never knew you had it in you."
"Well, I've had you in me plenty enough," I say.
He laughs.
"Besides. I think it was something you needed. You are loved, you know. And you are caring, beautiful, intelligent, and so, so much more."
He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "I know. I know that now." He sighs and plants a kiss on my lips. "Of all the times... of every scene I've ever... Ana, that was the most intense scene I've ever been involved in. I wish... no, I'm glad it was you. Only you could have taken me there."
"Christian, I want you to know that if you ever do something like that again, I won't hesitate to throw you over my knee."
He laughs. "I'd like to see you try."
"I wouldn't have to try, Christian. You'd be the one requesting the spanking."
He looks me in the eyes and nods. "Yes, Anastasia Steele, I do believe I would." He bites my ear softly, playfully. "I never knew I'd enjoy giving up control so much. In fact, I might like to do it again sometime." He leans back away from my ear and looks at me in all seriousness. "Just... not anytime soon. I don't think... I doubt I could handle more than one scene like that in entire month's time."
"It would be my pleasure to bathe you and dry you, and kiss you up and down every inch of your body and then fuck you until you scream in frustration, Mr. Grey."
At my words, his eyes roll. "Baby, you will be the death of me."
"I sure hope not. You're much more fun alive."
"I am truly sorry, Ana."
"All is forgiven. In fact, they say forgive and forget but I haven't quite gotten the forget part yet. Maybe," I say as I nudge his legs open, "I need a round two for that."
"Oh, Miss Steele, the forgetting doesn't happen until at least round three."
I laugh. "Well, we better work on that."