AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hi everyone and thank you for taking the time out to read my story. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who suffered severe post-story-depression after I finished the Fifty Shades trilogy, and after reading the series for a second time I thought I would attempt to continue the story where it leaves off. I would like everyone to know that the narrative voice I use in this story is not my own, however it is my attempt to copy the style of E L James so that the final book and this fanfiction flow together. I will be updating this fanfiction every few days to a week depending on my schedule and the length of the chapter. Please leave a comment if there is anything you wish to see, or if you just want to give me your feedback on the story! I'd love that! Thank you once again for taking the time out to read my story. I hope you enjoy it!
"Once inside, kneel like I've shown you"
Christian's tone pulls at an ache deep in my belly. My inner goddess is already kneeling, with her legs spread, inside the playroom.
"Yes, sir." I respond, and I realize how badly I want to please my husband. To obey him.
Almost as much as you like to disobey him, my subconscious sneers, and I know she's right. I've made him worry so much in the past few days.
I look up, and Christian is eyeing me with curiosity, an eyebrow raised as he gives me his best Anastasia-what-could-you-possibly-be-worrying-about-now look. I quickly avert eye contact and dart into the room.
Christian closes the door behind me, leaving me alone in the room. I quickly dispose of my blue camisole and kneel like he showed me. I try to count how many times I have been in this position, and my inner goddess shakes her head at me, as if to say not enough.
I quickly scan the room, the bed with red satin sheets, the museum like chests filled with toys I couldn't even name, the big cross on the wall, with restraints on each corner...
I quickly avert my eyes, remembering the last time I was shackled there. When I had to safe-word Christian.
I take a deep breath. Why am I so nervous? The air smells familiar, of citrus and hardwood, and I start to relax as the door opens.
I quickly avert my eyes to the floor, and self-consciously spread my legs a little further for my husband. I can feel Christian's eyes bore into me, and I see his bare feet in front of me, imagining how those jeans must look, hanging off of his hips the way they do.
"Stand up. You can look at me."
My eyes are the first to rise, looking over his frame hungrily. I was right, his faded blue jeans are hanging of his hips, stirring my libido. His happy trail leads up his perfect sculpted frame and branches into his chest hair. As my eyes travel to Christian's face I am struck by his beauty - his chiselled jawline, his soft, pink lips, his messy hair, but mostly, his grey eyes that stare into mine.
He looks at me with an unreadable expression, but the bulge already present in his jeans tell me that he wants me. That I turn him on, and I as well as my inner goddess are smiling.
Christian's lips raise in a half smile, and I find myself smiling stupidly at him.
"Something funny, Mrs. Grey?"
"Not at all, Mr. Grey."
He cocks his head to the side as he takes a good look at me, crouching down so he is beside my ear.
"Well if that's the case, then I think I told you to stand up. And that wasn't a request."
Oh!
I flush and rise to my feet, Christian is eyeing me hungrily and a fire starts deep in my belly. He raises a hand and slowly caresses his fingers over my cheek, down my throat and over my collarbone. I shiver with his touch and a smirk touches his lips as he tilts his head once more.
"Still, Anastasia. I want you to be still."
He moves his fingers to the back of my neck and fists a handful of my hair, pulling my head back as he leans in towards me, his breath hot on my neck as he nips my earlobe.
"Or I will force you to be."
Desire pools in my stomach with his words, and I have to force myself to be still. Christian continues to run his fingers over my body, causing Goosebumps to form over my skin. He moves his fingers over my chest, feather light, causing my nipples to harden. He then moves his fingers down over my stomach and, finally, into my underwear, cupping my sex. I can't resist the hum that escapes me.
"Quiet, Anastasia," Christian says to me, his voice stern. I go silent as Christian thrusts a finger into me. "And stop biting that lip." His voice is a low growl.
"Yes, Sir." My voice is not my own. It is of a higher register, and it is filled with need.
Christian moves his finger slowly in and out of me. I close my eyes as I already feel myself building, ascending to the point of utter pleasure that only he can take me to. He quickly pulls his fingers away from me and I am left hanging.
"On the bed, Anastasia." My name rolls off his tongue, each syllable distinctively pronounced. I do as I am told, but not before Christian slips my fingers into his mouth, his eyes locked to mine. It makes me weak at the knees.
I venture over to the huge bed, aware of Christian following behind me. I stand at the foot of the bed, waiting for further instructions. Before I know it, Christian is removing my panties. They drop to the floor and I know Christian is eyeing me hungrily, even though my back is to him.
"Knees and chest on the bed, baby, hands behind your back."
I do as I am told and am soon on the bed, my face turned to the side against the soft satin sheets, my behind in the air for my husband. I put my hands behind my back and Christian takes our usual blindfold, securing it over my eyes. I listen to him as he goes to the set of drawers, pulling out various things that I cannot see.
"I'm going to be doing some things that are a little different today, baby." Christian's words peak my interest. "If I do anything that you don't like, just tell me to stop."
"Yes, Sir." I murmur, and I feel harsh rope bind my wrists.
"The rope won't hurt unless you fight it, Anastasia, do you understand?"
I nod as I test my bindings, the rough material rubbing against my skin as I do so. Soon I am met with a slap on my ass, I yelp.
"What was that, Anastasia?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good girl."
I hear Christian walk away from me once more, leaving me tied up and needy. The speakers start playing a soft guitar tune and I'm curious of what exactly it is. Soon, Christian is once again standing beside me.
"I'm going to use something new on you today, Anastasia. These are candles, but they are made to burn at very low temperatures"
Fuck! I quickly become nervous about this idea.
"I know you're nervous," Christian starts, with his uncanny ability to read my mind. "But these melt at such a low temperature that they won't burn you. They're made for this."
"Okay." I begin to relax with his explanation and soon I hear the click of a lighter.
"Relax, Anastasia" he murmurs, and lets the first drop of wax fall on my skin.
Shit! It burns, but Christian is right, the slight pain is only quick, and I the pain has already receded to nothing. Christian lets another few drops fall, and I pull at my bindings in reflex.
The rope bites into my skin and I let out a small cry, the mix of the two sensations crowding my mind, and I am surprised when I feel a tingle at the apex of my thighs. I like this!
After a few more drops of wax, I hear Christian blow out the candle.
"Oh, Ana…" His voice is almost a moan. "You look so beautiful like this."
I feel a blush wash over my skin and feel his fingers travel down my sloped back, my skin extra sensitive from the candle wax. He stops when he reaches my lower back and then grabs my ass.
"You. Are. Mine." He says, and it no longer sounds like a threat, but instead a promise.
"Yes" I breathe, and that's all I can say as his hands travel down and he slips two fingers into me. I gasp.
"Always so ready, Mrs. Grey."
Once again he starts thrusting his fingers, in and out, and I groan in response.
"Fuck" I groan out, overwhelmed by the sensation. I feel weight at the end of the bed, and then I feel the warmth of Christian's body mounting mine. He teases me, rubbing the tip of his hardened length over my clitoris and I cry out before he moves back and thrusts himself into me.
My wrists burn as I strain against my bindings.
"Fuck, baby..." Christian moans down into my ear as his hands rest on either side of me. "This is going to be quick."
He starts thrusting at a steady pace and I completely give up rational thought as I become completely sensation. As I start to build, Christian's thrusts quicken, and he moves one hand around to rub my clitoris once more. I cry out with the pleasure, and I can feel my orgasm coming faster and faster. Christian's breath is hot on my neck.
"Come on, Ana! Give it to me!"
I explode around him, screaming out an incoherent version of his name as my orgasm wracks through my body. Christian gives one last strong thrust as he finds his release.
"Fuck!"
Soon, Christian is removing my blindfold and he looks at me with a smirk at the corners of his lips. His breathing is deep and heavy as he moves to untie the rope from my wrists.
"Did I hurt you, baby?" Christian laughs, and I can't help but giggle.
No, Christian, that was anything but painful.
"Is something funny, Mrs. Grey?"
"No, Mr. Grey."
Christian gets up to get me my robe, and I sit up, finally looking down at my wrists. They are not as red as the handcuffs made them on our honeymoon, and I am grateful. Christian moves to me and helps me put on the robe, fastening the belt around my wrist.
It is late, and Christian and I are lying in bed, wrapped up in each others limbs. My head rests on his chest and I am reminded of a time when he wouldn't let me do this. A time when my husband didn't know what being in love was like.
Well neither did you, my subconscious interjects, and I know she is right.
"You're rather quiet, Mrs. Grey."
"I'm thinking, Mr. Grey."
Christian turns on his side to look at me. He pushes a strand of my hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear, eyeing me with those beautiful grey eyes of his.
"And what is my beautiful wife thinking about?"
"What did you mean when you told me I was 'topping from the bottom' earlier? Before we went into the, uh, playroom?" I ask. That phrase has stuck with me and has made me curious about what he possibly could have meant. Christian chuckles.
"It's just a phrase that means that someone in the submissive position is actually the one in charge. Like you." He leans in to give me a chaste kiss on the lips. I frown.
"It's not a bad thing, Anastasia. I like when you tell me what you want."
Oh!
Christian kisses me on the forehead and pulls me closer into his arms. I take a deep breath as I nuzzle my face into his chest hair. He smells like Christian. My fifty shades.
"Sleep, Anastasia." Christian mumbles against my hair, and for once I completely obey, falling into a tired sleep.