Prologue

All that he could hear was his short-ragged breaths.

All that he could see were the inky shadows among the grey light, cast by the night outside of the high windows.

All he could feel were the cold tiles biting into his knees and shins beneath him, and the stark contrast of his slick, hot palms against his thighs.

All he could taste was his mouth dry with trepidation.

All he could feel was want and anticipation, despite his fear, for what may be to come as his heart drummed heavy in his chest.

Christian's wide eyes darted around the room, trying to make out anything that may give a clue to his mistress's intentions. He still ached from her last whim of desire and she was pleased with him then. He froze as he thought he heard a noise and turned his head towards where he knew the door to be. Was that a foot step? He shivered as he began to get cold completely naked, and seemingly having been down here in the basement for near an hour, the cool air however doing nothing to tame his libido, his cock heavy between his parted legs. He knew this drill well, yet this time was different. She had never made him wait this long before. He knew he had angered her, and she knew he knew. There had been such a quiet malice in her eyes as her lips grew thin with repressed rage when she had told him what she knew. He had never known her appear so angry.

Another noise. His breath hitched to a halt as his eyes widened further and he put all his concentration into listening. Footsteps, definitely footsteps, taking their own sweet time to descend the stairs one by one. He quickly lowered his eyes to the spot on the floor between his thighs and shifted in his position to make sure he was comfortable, unsure of how long she would expect him to stay absolutely still.

Just as he was concentrating on steadying his breaths and calming himself to the correct state of mind, a new sound sent a ripple of confusion running down his spine, she was talking with someone, yet he never heard the reply. The door swung open and despite his down cast eyes he still blinked hard against the assault of the bright yellow light it let in.

He felt her eyes on him as she busied herself with lighting candles around the basement, she continued to talk and he quickly realised she was speaking on the phone. He knew that tone, it was her fake, overly pleasant tone that she used to wear her mask of upstanding member of the community and well to do married woman. He focussed on feeling his fingertips against the hard muscles of his thighs while mentally reciting the most recent Debussy piece he had been learning on the piano as he tried not to listen to her conversation, yet he was confused to why she would continue it down here. She gave a trill of laughter as the light from the door outside disappeared with the click of the door and the drop of the lock as she turned the key, leaving just the soft humming glow of candle light basking on him.

Her leather clad ankles came to stand in his limited eye line and he instantly knew the thigh high stiletto boots she'd be wearing.

"As I advise Mrs Steele… Carla, of course." Her fake smile clear in her voice "Christian is very bad news, sweet Anastasia should definitely be steered clear of him…. Yes, yes. I'll deal with the boy from my end. Don't you worry about that."

Chapter One.

Crushing his eyes closed tight as the sun streamed in through his bedroom blinds having been too tired the night before to even consider pulling them closed. Elena had dropped him at the end of a drive with a firm warning for what he needed to do today, or more the point not do, and with a shower of gravel as her tyres had spun left him standing, watching her tail lights fade to nothing in the dark.

He took a breath to ready himself and sat up, hissing through his teeth as his muscles protested. He rolled and massaged his shoulders, still aching from being suspended from the basement ceiling.

He then bit his lip against the sting as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, placing his bare feet against the wooden floor as Elliot bellowed for him to hurry the fuck up if he wanted a ride to school, His ass, back and thighs still raw with angry welts from the cane.

He stood slowly and padded to the shower to wash away the grime of the sweat from the night before. Elena had never been that way to him before. He had, to beg to be allowed to come, and did so, so many times, just when he thought he couldn't give anymore his body betrayed him by stirring once again at her expert hands.

His heart raced at the thought of how angry he had made her, her threat to cut him off, He needed her. She was his only way. Only she understood him.

He gasped as the hot water hit his wounds and braced his hands on the cool tiled walls of the shower until the sting ebbed away and he could start to relax. Slowly but surely his muscles began to ease but he knew he'd feel it for days and he knew that was the exact intention.

He had only spoken to Anastasia…Ok, he wasn't stupid, he knew when a girl liked him and she was attractive and not like the other girls, but he knew his capabilities. He had given her a ride home, it had been raining and her piece of crap of a car had died. He had tried to keep walking, but the way she stood hugging herself as he walked across the lot. That rain drop that ran down the length of her nose only to break against her lips as her dark, damp hair clung to her face- fuck… he reached for the temperature gage of the shower and turned it to cold. Elena was right to punish him. He was forgetting himself, forgetting where he had it best, how he owed her.

He pulled on his jeans, feeling every fibre against his tender skin as he reached for a fresh tee-shirt, quickly realising he'd need a long sleeved shirt over top to hide the blossoming bruises on his wrists.

Today he would just do as Elena said, avoid Anastasia at all costs, ignore her, spare her. She was a girl and he had a woman, and not just any woman- A knock that shook his bedroom door on its hinges halted his thoughts.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked…. Fucked. But on three hours sleep what did he expect.

"Alright!- Alright! I'm coming already!" He yelled at yet another succession of blows to the door.

Running the fingers of both hands through his still damp hair to try to tame it, his grey eyes looked stormy and troubled even to him and with a resolute sigh he snatched up his ruck sack and headed out to follow Elliot, resigned to make it through yet another day until he could see Elena again tonight.

Elliot was already sat in his car, music blearing wearing shades for absolutely no reason as he sang obnoxiously along to the all too peppy song for seven in the morning.

Opening the car door, he took a deep breath and held it in as he prepared to sit down, thankful for the plush leather seats. No sooner had he sat did Elliot set off, Christian still buckling his belt as the car navigated the sweep of the drive way.

"You OK Little Bro?" Eliiot asked, swapping glances between the road and Christian.

He hated him calling him that, and slipped lower in his seat, directing his glare out of the window, taking the opportunity to practise his ignoring skills.

"You missed breakfast, you never miss a meal" Elliot continued to talk to the back of Christian's head.

As they reached the juncture to the road Elliot took a left, Christian sat up instantly and looked at him.

"School is that way" Christian pointed to the right with a scowl.

Elliot just laughed that care free not a trouble in the world laugh. "See, there's this girl-"

Christian groaned and slipped back down in his seat, how many times had he heard a sentence beginning with that statement? He pinched the bridge of his nose before reaching for the glove compartment and the stash of Advil he knew Elliot kept there, popping two from the packet and swallowing them dry.

"Dude, you hung over or somethin'? I thought you'd quit that shit."

Keeping to his resolute silence he continued to watch the blur of green's as they raced past the scenery and further into the suburbs.

Finally the car slowed as it took the next left and Elliot started to cruise as he lent against the steering wheel, straining his neck as he studied the house numbers one by one, but Christian knew this street, he was here just last night. This was Anastasia Steele's Street.