Fifty Shades of Wrong – Chapter 2

Before we begin, I'd like to thank you for all your feedback and encouragement on chapter 1. I read every one of your reviews and all of your email messages and I appreciate you taking the time to write. It means a lot to me. Your feedback truly has been a big help as I continue to write the story. Enjoy!

I'm startled at the sudden materialization of his voice in my ear. I didn't see or hear him enter the room, or even feel the weight of him on the bed. Has he been in here this entire time, watching me undress from a dark corner? Or did he sneak past me undetected? This is the kind of thing he does that keeps me on my toes in this castle of a penthouse, always appearing from nowhere, always watching me. Like a hawk, as Kate once said.

My heart pounds for its life as I wonder what sort of… punishment he intends to give me. And I can't believe, after all this time, I've given in. Why? I was doing so well at keeping my distance from him.

"I'm going to fuck you…hard." His breath is a velvet cloth easing down my neck, warm and strong and rooting me to the spot. I couldn't escape his bonds if I wanted to. Believe me, I've tried. For three long years I've tried. How can I still feel this way for this man who's fifty shades of fucked up?

This man who takes pleasure in punishing me? In hurting me. What am I even doing here, completely exposed, save for my pink parts, and sprawled out on his oversized, red-curtained bed? Oh, I'm so confused—now, after three years of trying to move on, I'm more confused than ever!

This room must be next to the white room—the one he gave me before. The same Seattle skyline populates the view out the floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, a distant pink sky blankets the city. Night is falling quickly. Too quickly…

"Your fragrance… Is that a new perfume?"

"Does it please you, Sir?" I ask, emphasizing the Sir to keep him placated. I know full well the courtesies he expects from his subs.

"Yes, it does please me, Miss Steele." He breathes me in, and I can tell he's struggling to control his appetite. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Yes, Sir," I answer, remembering when I opened the gift from my fiancé. My fiancé! Who has no idea what his business partner is about to do to me. My fiancé, who's only ever been the sweetest thing to me. I think of Bradly with his head of raven-color locks and piercing crystal blues…

We met one night as I was leaving Grey's Holdings. I had, for the third time, just given back the car Christian bought me and was making my escape. Each time I'd returned it before, Christian had given it right back with some irresistible way to compel me. Who did he think he was, anyway? Besides the richest man in the city, who gets away with anything he wants.

This time, I'd brought the car to his office so that he couldn't seduce me. Until I arrived, I'd forgotten about the elevator, his favorite place to pin me against a wall. It riled my inner-goddess to ride in it all the way up to his floor. When it was time to leave, I waited until Christian was preoccupied on an important call to sneak back into the elevator.

I had to! He had such a hold over me. I needed to keep my equilibrium, which was too often lost around him.

Bradly was coming as I was exiting the lobby entrance and we ran right into each other. Literally. I was sneaking a peek behind me to make sure I hadn't been followed. When I turned around, my forehead rammed right into Bradly's chiseled, dark-stubbled chin. His hands gripped my arms reflexively to hold me up. I looked up.

And then I stumbled back, dumbstruck by the flawlessness staring back at me—a pair of piercing blue eyes burning through me. They were so bright they conjured an image of sapphire gems in my mind.

"Ana Steele," he beamed, a warm smile emerging across his face, curling two perfect lips at the corners. "You wouldn't be sneaking away from Mr. Grey, would you?" There was a twinkle in his eye, like he was privy to an inside joke of some sort.

I tilted my head. "Do we… Have we met?" I asked.

"No." (Whew! That would have been awkward.) "Is there a soul in the city who doesn't know your beautiful face? It's plastered in every important magazine."

Did he just say…beautiful? I felt my cheeks warm. But there wasn't a spark or anything like that—not like when I fell into Christian's office for the first time.

"I was hoping we might run into each other one day."

Suddenly, my neck hairs stood at attention and I got the feeling I was being watched. I turned, but didn't see Christian anywhere in the buzzing lobby. Oh my, if he saw this exchange between me and this stranger—one that could easily rival him in the eligible bachelor department—I would have surely been punished. My inner-goddess nearly fell over.

"I'm Bradly Russel." The gentleman extended a hand. I accepted, but he didn't shake as I thought he would. Instead he kissed my knuckles—gently, tenderly, like my hand was a delicate flower. I flushed with embarrassment, hoping no one around was paying any attention to us.

His name sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. Later, I realized I'd heard the name passed around Christian's office. He was a colleague of Christian's, another billionaire, his fortune built by internet marketing. That night was the night Bradly first asked me on a date.

Not wanting to drag anyone else in the mess of me and Christian, I declined.

Then, after a month of Mr. Russel's persistence, continuous berating from my inner-goddess, and Christian's relentless refusal to respect my boundaries, I accepted a date with Bradley. I reasoned that it would help me keep a healthy distance from my former dominant—who too often used sex as a weapon. And, why not? I was single, technically. Christian had no claim over me—not anymore. Right? I mean, I never did sign the contract…

Unfortunately, Christian didn't see it that way.

Now, tonight, as I lie here in my black, lacy bra and thong, anticipating Christian's roped punishment, I'm laden with guilt. It seems my plan has failed. And now I've dragged an innocent billionaire into this madness.

I clench my stomach at the thought of Bradly riding home alone, no doubt wondering where I've gone off to after the party, why I didn't say goodbye, or go home with him. He's probably tried phoning. May even be worried by now.

Why do I hesitate to commit myself wholly to this guy who's so good to me? Bradly's courteous and kind and, though at times he seems…preoccupied (I'm assuming with business) and slightly impatient with things I can't fathom or presume to know, the norm has been that he remains ever the gentleman, however more down to earth than Mr. Grey.

Bradly's clearly the better man for me. He would never hit me, anyway. Why then do I hesitate? Why then, have I only agreed to marry him after months and months of coercing? Maybe Christian was right. Maybe I am made to be s submissive.

"Christian," I plead, wrenching myself from my own masochistic reverie. "We can't…" My inner goddess cartwheels across my chest, cheering me on. I feel stupid for following his instructions. I slide toward the edge of the bed. I need to find my clothes and scoot into them, and then out of here. But I can't. Christian's firm but gentle grip around my arm stops me.

"Shh…" he coaxes. "Don't worry about…him. Bradly won't be too hurt, trust me…" With a finger, he guides my chin to face him.

I'm stunned. He truly is breathtaking. Tonight, he's clean-shaven, though his hair is as much of a mop as ever. He's already removed his shirt, and his slacks hang around his hips in that way. I'm all giddy inside, I can't stop gaping. Then, he runs the back of his fingers down my cheekbone, and his thumb across my lip, his gray eyes as soft as his touch.

"Truthfully, Ana." He sighs, his body visibly deflating. "I didn't think it'd come this far. I thought I'd have you out of his hands by now and back in my arms where you belong. Why do you fight it, Ana? Don't you know you belong to me?" His voice is gentle, caressing me into a deceptive comfort.

He's right. My heart at least belongs to him. Suddenly, his mercurial mood takes a turn. His eyes harden and his jaw clinches.

"Bradly's punishment is long overdue," he grates.

I say nothing. It's not the first time I've heard such idle threats. And Christian isn't the only one. They both make jabs at each other like this—only to me. I've never heard them badmouth each other in public. At first, I thought it was jealousy, but sometimes I get the feeling it goes deeper than that. Yet, I never see them argue or fight.

"Why do I find myself entertaining the thought of a blonde? What are you doing to me, Ana? You know how I feel about blondes …"

My chest plummets at the reminder. It's not something I want to think about. I felt Katrina's evil stare all night at the party.

Everyone in the world knows about my history with Christian Grey. Or, at least they know what Christian has let them know. What only those close to him know is that the entire ordeal devastated him, and that's not by his own admission. They can see it.

I'm the villain here. I left him. I've strung him along for the past two years. His mother, who used to be so kind to me, now greets me with hard, cold eyes. Mia won't look at me. And now I've gone and started dating Christian's partner, of all the single men in the city. In my defense, I didn't know Bradly and Christian were partners when we started dating! Christian was always so guarded; he shared nothing of his professional life. My subconscious rolls her eyes. She's right. It's no excuse.

It can't be comforting to Katrina to know I'm still in both his professional and personal life.

Just like it doesn't comfort me to imagine Christian Grey punishing another sub.

"What are you thinking?" his velvety voice cajoles me from my debilitating thought pattern. "Answer me now," he demands when I take too long. His thumb caresses my bottom lip.

"Your…girlfriend." I force the word from my mouth, ignoring the uninvited image of Christian's gray necktie knotted over Katrina's wrists. I shift uncomfortably in my near-nakedness. "Have you shown her the red room of pain yet?" I can't believe the words fly from my mouth, let alone the venom that spews out with them. I gasp at my own audacity. Who am I to talk? I was first to take refuge in another.

"Ana, it's mostly about pleasure, as I've said countless times." He sounds exasperated. But when he faces me, it seems he recognizes something in my expression, and there's a ghost of a smile curling the corner of his perfect lips. "No, I have not allowed her in there. That remains our little secret…"

"But—erm, hasn't she signed your contract?"

Another soft smile. "No," he admits. "No contract for her." But he looks away, his eyes bleak.

This is news… Has the dominant Christian Grey done away with the NDA? Does he no longer negotiate his recreational relationships?

I can't fight the pang this forces through in my stomach. It's all my fault. I drove Christian to date like a normal person.

"Ana. We haven't—" He stops short, his gray eyes storming. "Don't think about her… Or him." He scoffs, clenching his jaw. After a long moment of brooding, he finally says, "We'll save your punishment for another day." His eyes soften and he smooths a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

As relief swallows me, his finger tugs on my chin, twisting my head to nearly face him once more, and his lips touch mine, the tender graze of his tongue a gentle tease inside my lips. He withdraws, and I feel the loss. Then, his voice takes the sudden and dangerous tone of a business deal.

"Let's get the business out of the way. And get one thing very clear." His mercurial ways have brought his mood back to business. No emotion. It's all acquisitions and mergers as it has been in the past. Like I've already signed a contract that I can't get out of.

I say nothing, not daring to argue with Mr. Business, and wonder briefly if I'm doing the right thing. Of course, I'm not. I'll soon be the wife of another billionaire who, according to the people in this city, can do no wrong. If I mess it up with Bradly, I'll be the one the world hates, not him. I told you to stay away from Mr. Grey! My subconscious riles at me… I suddenly feel squeamish. I need to get out of here…

"This is my business," Christian's voice breaks in, bringing me back to the veracity of my situation. "Which means, if you go through with the marriage, you belong to me."

He's behind me now, nibbling at my ear and I may as well be in shackles. I can't move; I'm pinioned by his audacity.

"That's right, Anastasia Steele, you belong to me…" he whispers against the rim of my mouth, skimming his free palm over my hips, up my slim torso, and slipping it into my bra and around my left breast. It fills his hand completely and overflows a little. I flush with giddiness. I'm all light and airy inside. I feel him exhale his satisfaction as my nipple hardens into a berry under the brush of his thumb. His other hand unfastens my bra from behind, and it falls limp, causing my other breast to spill out.

"The thought of him touching you…" His body tenses. "You can't marry him. No, I won't allow it." He trails feather-soft kisses down my neck, pimpling my flesh throughout. Despite his threatening words, Christian is gentle with me.

My head falls back reflexively.

"Enough about Bradly."

His palm molds my breast as his lips continue their delicate sweeps of mine, softly, supplely. My lips tingle in response, and a wave of steamy warmth ripples through me. Then his lips begin their descent, burning a trail down my neckline until they're back at my nape, across my shoulder, and down the back of my arm.

"I'm going to fuck the submissive back into you," he promises. And I feel him pinch my hard nipple.

Oh my! I moisten myself! My breathing shallows. Breathe, Ana, breathe! My inner goddess badgers me.

"But first, I need to know you want this."

My subconscious hangs her head. If we go through with this tonight, there's no going back...

Thanks for reading chapter 2. I'll do my best to post a new chapter at least once a week. If I'm not able to, I will let you know at the end of the chapter. If you like the story so far, please fav or review or share. Thanks so much!

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