Disclaimer: The majority of the characters used in this story belong to the Fifty Shades trilogy. They are and remain EL James's property. Infamouschelsea is in no way affiliated with James or her publishers. Any recognisable brands, places, persons, music or film are the property of their respectful owners. No copyright infringement is intended.

Guest 999 – I'm so thrilled to see that you liked the first chapter. I hope you continue to like it. Thank you. x

SuzB – Thank you. I'm glad you liked the first chapter and were happy to see Elena gone for good. I think we all are. :) Kate and Elliot's wedding will definitely be interesting. It's going to be fun seeing the planning behind this. I hope you continue to enjoy. Much Love x

LA – Aw, thank you so much! I'm so glad that you liked the final chapter of HDLFL and more so that you liked the first one here. That's fantastic to hear. :) I hope this story meets expectations. Much Love! x

Ellie – Thank you, Ellie! Yes, everything is going well for our favourite couple right now. It's great to see you were looking forward to this chapter. :) I want Christian too! Much love x

MX – I am so thrilled that you enjoyed HDLFL as much as you did. That's always such a great thing to hear. :) I hope that you enjoy this story too. I'm really looking forward to guiding Ana and Christian through this. Thank you, MX. Much Love! x

Dseiladmnd – Thank you. I'm glad to hear you liked it! x

Brandy751 – It's wonderful to hear you liked the first chapter! Thank you! :) x

Sara - Sorry for the delay! x

Hello Lovelies,

Sorry for the delay. I know I explained in the previous A/N, but I probably will continue to apologise if I struggle to meet the weekly updates. I'm British, we like to apologise. :) My first week back has been insane!

Apologies for any mistakes and the overall crappiness. My brain's completely fried at the moment. Nevertheless, I do hope you like it.

A massive thank you for all of the reviews, follows and favourites so far. It means so much! As most of you will know, I like to respond to guest reviews in the section before the A/N, but there was a huge amount on the last chapter - I know there was something wrong with the site at the time I uploaded! - so, I have responded to those who left an initial or pseudonym, simply to cut down on space. I have read all of the reviews and appreciate them immensely!

I forgot to say this at the start of the last chapter - there will be NO CHEATING, NO CHRISTIAN/ANA DEATHS OR LOSS OF THE BABY in this story. :)

I'll be back soon.

Much Love and Happy Readings,

Chelsea

My brows depress into a frown as I stand in front of the full-length mirror in our closet. I've been trying to piece together my outfit for a while, and it's not an easy feat. The size and swell of my stomach hinders my movements the most, swiftly followed by the wondering hands of my mischievous, sex-crazed Christian.

"Baby, we have to leave in twenty minutes…" I sigh and step forward, trying to gain distance from him.

When I rose from my stool in the kitchen and made my way toward the staircase, Christian slid from his seat and began following me. He reached my side and his hands latched onto my hips, his fingers pressing into my robe. He stopped me from walking off and leaving him behind. I disrobed as soon as I made it into our bedroom, hoping that would shoo him away. It had the opposite effect. The sight of my bare skin made his eyes widen with lust. He was all over me – hands roaming my thighs, stomach and breasts; his lips suckling my neck and the lobe of my ear. I fought to take one of my dresses from the rail and some underwear from the dresser. So far, I've managed to get on my bra and panties only, much to his distaste.

"Stop fighting me." He grunted and launched forward, closing the gap between us once more. His fingers wrapped into my hips again, pulling me back into his chest.

I fall into his firm stature, almost coming off balance but for the grace of his hold. I roll my head back as he walks his fingers across my hip and to the hem of my panties. He dipped a finger underneath and teased it away from me.

"It's easier if you just give in…" He purred, taking my ear between his teeth. His fingers moved down, pulling me apart at the seams. He began circling… I quivered. "You can't tell me you don't want this. I can feel it… I can feel how wet you are -"

"Oh… God –" I breathed heavily, crumbling under his touch. His other hand has moved from my hip, now freeing my breasts from the cups of my bra. "Oh…"

"That's right, baby… I love it when you moan."

His fingers picked up their pace, ribbing and stroking me hard and fast, tipping me into the beginning of an earth shattering climax. I felt myself slickening with every spasm. He held me close to him and started rolling his hips into me. He's hard… I rubbed shamelessly against him.

"You like that, baby?" He murmured, pressing his lips to my neck.

With a shaky hand, I made a grab for his sinful fingers. I wrapped mine around his and forced his hand south, to my opening.

"There –" I told him. I guided his fingers to where I wanted - needed him. He slid his finger into me. "Yes… Right there –"

My eyelids flickered as he hit the tight, aching nerves inside me. As I opened them, I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror just ahead. I look so small in front of him. His knees are bent, bringing him level to me at my average height. My cheeks are flushed a daring pink, my hair cast over my left shoulder with his mouth on my right. My breasts are hanging over the top of my bra, his left hand controlling and teasing my nipples. I look past my bump and the red lines spiralling around my navel, fixating on our hands delving between my thighs.

"God, yes…" I moaned.

He quickened. One finger and then two… relentlessly dipping them in and out. He curled the tips inward and I cried out. He probed and worked that spot inside me that screams his name. It's his… His spot.

Christian held me against him for a second longer before pulling away. He removed his hand from my grip and took a step back. He stopped just before I came. He led me to the mountain, but didn't let me see the view.

I grumbled and huffed, turning on my heel to face him. His cheeks are a little pink, too. He pushed his hands to his bulging crotch, swiftly tugging his belt and zipper apart. He turned and started walking out of the closet and into the bedroom. I followed eagerly.

We met at the bed. He took my arms and lowered me down onto the mattress, keeping me close to the edge. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, freeing his impressive, erect length before joining me.

The mattress dipped as he came to kneel between my legs. He reached out and hastily took a pillow from the headboard, pushing it under my hips as he aided me from the bed. He propped my hips into the position he wanted before sliding into me in one tight manoeuvre.

"You are a very bad man, Christian Grey." I tutted as I stepped out of the car on his parents' driveway. I slipped my hand in his and stole another glance at my watch. "We're late."

"Only by fifteen minutes." He shrugged his shoulders, closing the car door behind me. "You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

"You know I did." I tilted my head to the side. On too many occasions he's told me how vocal I can be in the throes of lovemaking and I know I was biting my lip at one point, to stop myself from screaming out.

"Then it's worth it."

"Christian, it's always worth it, but now we've got to deal with the fallout."

I kept hold of his hand as we strolled to the front door, leaving our SUV in line with the other cars on the drive. I smooth down my dress with my free hand, just to make sure it's covering everything it's supposed to. We were in a rush when we finally rolled out of bed, so I threw it on and prayed for the best. I teamed my long-sleeved, knee-length navy dress with a pair of maternity tights, completing my outfit with a denim jacket and my grey coloured Michael Kors flats. I scrapped my hair into a ponytail in the ride over here.

"I'll take the blame." Christian sighed and drew me closer to his side, tucking me under his arm. "I can handle it."

"Oh, my very own knight in a leather jacket…" I smirk and tip my head up to him, welcoming the brush of his lips over mine.

Reaching the door, Christian opened it for me and stepped to the left, giving me enough room to waddle inside. The second I moved into the entrance hall, I was hit with a strong, delicious scent. Food. I instinctively turned my head to the kitchen at the far end of the hallway. Cake? It smells like cake…

"Arms –"

Christian tapped my upper arm lightly, snapping my attention back to him. His arm is outstretched and his eyes expectant. I look down at his hand, finding that he's already taken his jacket off. He prompted me for mine. I lifted my arms to him, allowing his fingers to wrap around the cuffs and swiftly pull it off me. He turned and opened up the closet to our left, placing it inside with his. I kicked off my shoes and shuffled them inside before he shut the door.

I padded into the hallway and heard the commotion for the first time. Loud, sharp bangs and the heavy scraps of items across the floor. Shouting… a lot of shouting from a single, angry person.

Her voice grew and radiated up and down the walls. I hesitated when I caught her standing at the end of the hallway, in front of me. Her strawberry-blonde hair is pinned back and out of her face. She sensed me staring at her, sharply jolting her eyes up the hall. In the second before her intense greens found me, I contemplated making a run for it.

She huffed loudly.

Too late… Abort, abort, abort –

Kate charged full force to me, a scowl stretched high and wide over her face. It forced me back a step, off balance, and into Christian standing behind me. His hands came to my elbows to steady me, but also to make me his shield.

"So much for taking the blame…" I mouthed in a hush.

"You are late." Kate sounded with a mix of frustration and the grinding of her teeth. Her eyes fixed on mine and then on Christian, lingering there for longer than necessary.

"Are we?" Christian mocked. He pushed his arm out in front of us both, checking his watch. "I don't think we are… You said 12:15. We're actually early by a minute or so –"

Kate cut him off with a huff. I reached up and pulled his arm down immediately. Her eyes narrowed.

"He's joking." I told her, forcing a smile over my lips. "We know we're late and we're sorry. I just couldn't find anything to wear –" I fibbed, not knowing what to say. I can't tell her the truth - Oh sorry we're late, I was busy having hot, sweaty sex with my husband.

"A big ass closet like yours and you couldn't find anything to wear?" She repeated, a lot sterner than I said it. She tore her eyes up and down my body. It was a look of distaste. She spun on her heel, clicking her Jimmy Choos down the hall again.

I began following her, dragging an objecting Christian with me. He made a noise in protest.

"Don't –" I rolled my head to the side, to look up at him. I raised my brows and shook my head gently. "Can you just let it slide this one time? Please?"

He sighed heavily and blinked a couple of times, before picking up his feet and walking with some ease behind me. I kept his hand in mine. I could see him running if given half a chance. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about coming here.

Kate led us down the hall and into the second room on the left – the family room. It's almost identical to the two other sitting rooms in the house, the only difference being the flat-screen television mounted on the wall and the overall comfy feel. It's less formal in here.

The first thing I notice as I step in, like I do on every visit, are the abundance of photographs on the walls, the cabinets and on the bookcase at the end of the room. There are pictures charting every event and year of the Trevelyan-Grey family. Pictures of grandparents, Carrick and Grace's wedding, followed by pictures from when they first met Elliot at two and a half. As the photo-frames move to a different unit, time is progressing – adopting Christian and then Mia two years after that; there are birthday parties and Christmas's. At the very end are the newer additions. Christian's birthday last year when he announced our engagement, our wedding day and immediately after that, every sonogram picture of little Blip thus far. There's a space beyond that for his first pictures.

I come to a stop at the first of the three long, high-backed cream couches. The colours in here are neutral and homely – creams and buttermilk with soft, clean lines and luxury furnishings. I can already imagine all of us sitting around and cooing over the many bundles of joy to arrive in the family. Grace and Carrick can expect at least six grandchildren if Christian's gets his way. He'd gladly have me pregnant for the rest of my life.

"You're doing the invitations."

Kate turned to face me, crossing her arms around herself. She jerked her head to the floor. I followed her eyes down, coming to notice the dozen or more white boxes all stacked up in a high pile.

"The invitations are on the left –" She nodded her head to them, "The envelopes are on the right. All you have to do is take the cards and put them in the envelopes. I had the addresses printed."

"Do we have to match them up?" I ask, my mouthing falling open at the amount in front of us. We're going to be here all day.

"No, you don't have to match them up." She bit. "The cards are generic."

I grinded my teeth together. I took a deep breath before asking, "How many are there?"

"We have 170 guests coming and all of the envelopes need to go out today, so you should probably start them now." She rocked on her heels and started to storm toward the door again.

"How come we get landed with the boring shit?" Christian complained, shooting a hard glare to her. It didn't faze her at all.

"Maybe if you had turned up on time, you would have had a more exciting job." Her voice was callous. It's a side of Kate I've seen on only two occasions, and neither of them ended well. "Now, if you don't mind, I have things I need to get on with."

She opened the door and almost got a clean exit, until Christian called after her again.

"Just one question…" He brought his hand to his mouth, pressing his index finger to his lips with his thumb under his chin. It was a stance of deep thought.

"What?" Kate growled. Her eyes were reddening with every breath.

"Can I ask what your last slaves died of?" He questioned. "Was it exhaustion or malnourish, or your overall miserable disposition?"

Oh for fucks sake… I dipped my head, covering my eyes with my hands.

Kate slammed the door shut. I heard her cursing up the hallway, calling him every obscenity she could think of. When I finally pulled my hands from my face and looked up, I found a smug Christian at my side. He was laughing to himself.

I swiped my hand into his chest, slapping him.

"Hey!" He frowned. "What was that for?"

"Why do you do it? You know it pisses her off, yet you continue to needle her." I shook my head as I settled onto the couch. I reached for the first boxes in the pile.

"It amuses me." He said with earnest. He sat down next to me. "Besides, she shouldn't take us for granted. We're here to help, not do everything for her."

"We are helping. She just has a lot on her mind." I defended her, even though some of time I want to throw her through the window. "Weddings are stressful."

"She's stressful." He countered. "She's a fucking nutcase."

"Can you just stop already?" I snap my head to him. "Please?" His brows furrowed. He's such a stubborn bastard sometimes… "Please baby…" I pouted, leaning closer to him. I looked up through my lashes. "For me? I'll do anything you want…"

He stared at me for a few seconds before silently taking two boxes for himself. I took his non-answer as a yes. I could see the cogs in his mind doing overtime, thinking of ways for me to pay off this debt.

"… and every little thing she does is magic… everything she does just turns me on –"

I stirred from my slumber, welcomed back to the world by the sweet, quiet tones of an exquisite voice. I opened my eyes slowly, tipping my head toward the noise. My lips curled into a smile as I saw a head full of dark copper in front of me.

Looking down my body, I realise I'm lying down on the couch, snuggled into a foetal position. I'm covered with a white, knitted blanket. I'm the right kind of warm. I enjoy the comfort for a few minutes, taking time to watch Christian sing along to the music on the television. He's sitting on the floor in front of me with his head bowed, and his attention on his hands. I stare as he sticks to a methodical process of left hand for the invitation, right for the envelope and then seal with a flick of his tongue, placing it down in another box at his right leg. He's found his groove, moving with efficiency and precision. The coral, violet and white of the invitations become a complete blur with the speed at which he's moving.

After a while I sat up. I pulled the blanket from around my legs, freeing them so I could swung them around and underneath myself. I sat on my hip and reached forward with my hand, running my fingers through Christian's hair. He stole his head to me with a jolt, his focused, grey eyes widening.

"You're awake." He acknowledged with surprise. He dropped the newly sealed envelope and twisted his body to me. He reached out and laid his arm over my legs, tracing his hand up and down my thigh. "Are you feeling okay, baby?"

"Uh-huh…" I nodded. I rubbed my fingers into my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost three." He replied, not even looking at his watch. "You haven't been napping for long."

"I didn't even know I'd fallen asleep."

"You just crashed." He smiled delicately. "We were talking and then you went quiet. I turned to look at you and you were out of it. You must be exhausted."

"I guess I am." I nod my head. "It's hard work growing a human inside you."

"All the more reason to slow down and concentrate on our little human in here." He spread his fingers over my bump and smiled. "I just want you to be content and healthy. I'm not saying all of this to piss you off."

"I know… I'll think about it." I place my hand over his. "Is there still a lot to do?" I ask, gesturing to the boxes in front of him. The pile has gone down quite a bit. He shook his head.

"Just another two boxes or so. I'll be done soon and then we can go home."

"We're not staying for dinner?"

"No, I have other plans for us tonight."

"Really?" I lifted my brows with a smirk on my mouth. "That sounds ominous."

"It is, baby." He winked at me. He pushed his hand down my stomach and to the hem of my dress. He began teasing, trying to lift it up.

"You've got serious issues, Mr Grey." I shooed him away, bringing my legs out from under me. I helped myself off the couch with a hand on his shoulder. "But hold onto that thought. Blip needs feeding first."

Christian walked in my shadow on the way to the kitchen. I love how affectionate he is lately. I mean, he's always been all over me like a rash, always wanting to be at my side but recently, even more so. He's changed so much. From ice cold, 'I don't make love, I fuck hard' to controlling, overbearing and intense and now, a compromise that suits us both. I know him and he knows me. He still tries to take charge and sometimes I let him, because I know he only does it because he cares. If he annoys me, I tell him. We have our safewords just in case either of us needs to break things off and cool down. Since Elena has been out of the picture, my life has been nothing but bliss – regardless of bridezilla Kate or my pregnancy woes.

The kitchen was just a few doors down from the family room and full of warmth as we entered. Grace and Carrick are standing at the island counter in the middle of the long, sterile room. When I first came into the family, the kitchen was a wash of oak and marble, but a few months back they commissioned Elliot and his team to renovate. They kept the oak floors running throughout, but replaced the cabinets with a stark, brilliant white with granite tops. The two, raindrop chandeliers hang beautifully from the ceiling, exacting a prism on the walls. I trudged further in, making my way to the island.

"Oh hello, sweetheart." Carrick beamed, looking up from the countertop to me. His soft, fine-lined eyes flickered from me to Christian. He nodded gracefully to him, "Son."

"Do you need a hand?" Christian asked, stepping out of my wake. He noted the various plates and bowls on the counter.

"No, no, we're fine." Grace jumped in. She matched her husband's grin with excellence. It's amazing how in tune they are with each other. Their actions mirror one another, similar to Christian and me. I can only hope our marriage lasts and is as strong as theirs, and nothing like any of my mother's.

In the corner of my eye I saw a figure slumped in one of the stools at the breakfast bar. It's Elliot. He's hunched forward over the counter, resting his head on his forearms. His chest is heaving hard, almost painfully so. I made to ask if he's okay and then I heard it. The roar of a lone Kavanagh filled the air, again.

I froze to the spot and felt a pulse of ice run through me. My eyes shot open. I felt Christian's hand come to the base of my spine, his body moving closer to me. I glanced to Grace and Carrick. They looked beyond us, to the door and the cursing coming out of Kate's mouth.

"It's the caterers." Elliot groaned. He refused to look up, rubbing his head along his arms. "She wants cupcakes –"

"What's the problem with that?" Christian queried with a gruff tone. "We had cupcakes at our wedding. You're using the same caterer, aren't you?"

"She wants three and a half thousand cupcakes." Elliot said slowly. He lifted his head. His face is pained with angst and fatigue. "Three and a half thousand cupcakes for less than 200 people." He growled.

A door slammed shut behind us. It echoed through the place, vibrating under the floors and to my feet. It came from the other side of the house.

Elliot's blue eyes found mine, looking for sympathy or comfort. I smiled warmly and shuffled over to him. I set my arm around his shoulders and leaned into him.

"It'll be over soon and then you can just get on with the rest of your life." I soothed him.

"She'll be lucky to make it to the ceremony without popping an damn artery." He pushed back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him. "Has she always been like this?"

I nodded. "This is Kate Kavanagh at her finest. Unfortunately." I tapped his shoulder and released him. "She gets a little intense when she's stressed."

"A little?" He and Christian snorted simultaneously. I turned back to Christian as he continued, "I thank God every day that you were the one who came to the interview and not that!" He flung his arm out to the door. I scowled at him.

"Is there any chance we can just drug her and take her to Vegas? Just get all of this shit over and done with?" Elliot pleaded. He's a desperate man. It's etched all over his face.

"You can borrow the jet if you need it." Christian offered instantly, without shame. "It can be ready by the morning… I'll cover everything because trust me, you'll be doing all of us a favour by getting rid of her."

I heard Grace tut from the island.

"All of this is your fault." Elliot rose out of his stool and pointed his finger to Christian. He seethed at him. "It's all your fault. You said she was my type the night Ana booty called you."

"She is your type. She's blonde, isn't she?"

"Oh yeah, she's blonde…" Elliot nodded. "And fucking psychotic!"

"Elliot!" Grace and Carrick chastised in unison. He ignored them.

"You set me up with a freakin' lunatic!"

"You put the ring on her finger." Christian defended himself, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, I did." Elliot sulked over to the door, slipping out of it with a grimace. Her voice grew louder as he opened it. "And I'm going to live to regret it."

He stomped from the kitchen. I couldn't say for sure if he was going to find Kate to calm her down or kill her, or whether he'd slip out of the front door, hop in his truck and make a beeline for Mexico. I know he loves Kate. He loves her with every inch of his life, but she's testing all of our patience. These next three weeks are going to make or break them, and the rest of us.