A/N: This is probably the hottest chapter that I've ever written so far! Your comments are my fuel. Thank you! – ST2
Chapter 4 – Making Up For Lost Time
Christian and Ana awkwardly tumble out of the elevator at Escala into their penthouse suite – all mouths, tongues, hands and fingers. They leave their coats behind on the elevator floor. Christian pushes Ana against the table in the foyer, breaking free from their frantic kiss. The vase with flowers that once stood on the table comes crashing down, but the two don't even flinch. Without looking, Ana ceremoniously drops her clutch purse to the floor right next to the broken vase.
Quickly, Christian retrieves their coats from the elevator floor before the doors close, only to drop them on the floor inside of the suite. He turns back and leans against his wife who pants against the table.
"Ana, I am desperate for some quick, dirty, good old-fashioned, hard and fast vanilla right now. And if you have the strength later, maybe we can sprinkle in some playroom magic," Christian glares with devious sexual intent. Ana melts in his presence and suddenly pushes him out of her way.
Without being instructed, Ana looks Christian directly in the eye as she bends over and removes her panties from under her dress while keeping her heels on. Christian takes the pad of his right thumb and glides it across his bottom lip in sensual approval.
"You said quick and dirty," she breathes. He narrows his eyes at her and nods very slowly in approval. Ana places her palms behind her on the table and hops on top of the surface, taking a seat just on the edge. Christian's eyes burn into hers with fervent desire. He quickly removes and tosses his dinner jacket to the floor before loosening up his belt and pants. He lowers them and his underwear to his feet and leans in the gap between Ana's parted legs. With her help, he hikes her dress all the way up to her waist.
Ana tips her head down and meets Christian's mouth for yet another ardent kiss. Slowly, he slides into her.
"Ahhhhh," she exhales. Christian moans in satisfaction. He starts to move gradually, fully taking her in – savoring her. Ana wraps her arms around her man's neck and begins to buck with him, meeting him every step of the way. Her head tips back and his lips locate her neck.
"Yes, baby," he moans in between kisses. Internally, they each reflect on what it has taken for them to reach this pivotal, blissful, uninterrupted moment.
In a flash, it dawns on Ana that this opportunity would have taken place months ago had she let her baby daughter get use to her mother not running to her at every single beck and call. Christian told Ana earlier that he understood why she was reluctant to let their daughter cry for an extended period of time. He even praised her for being such a caring mother – unlike his birth mom. "But sometimes as parents, you have to be willing to make the difficult decisions and then follow through with them for the long term benefit of your children," Christian preached to Ana over the phone yesterday night while tied up in Portland at the Heathman with his Taiwanese visitors. She agreed with the sentiment. That evening, Phoebe did act out again in her nursery. However she ceased only after three minutes, and Ana was able to enjoy another night of uninterrupted sleep. Ana hopes that Grace and Carrick fair even better tonight with the soon-to-be five-month-old little gem.
The sound of Christian's increased moaning snaps Ana out of her reverie and slams her back into an intense reality where love has no limits and sensation has no bounds. Overtaken by an overwhelming feeling of emotion, Ana closes her eyes.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" she cries out in time with each stroke.
"Ana, open up your eyes. I want to see you," he exhales. Ana complies, but then struggles with commanding her body not to lose it at the sight of her husband's beautiful face, which is now adorned with intense need and an unquenchable lust for his wife.
"I've waited so long for this. Just you and me…together…like this. Don't wait this long ever again to give me what belongs to me. Do you understand?" he glares into her with the eyes of a commander – not missing a beat.
"Yes," she groans in reply. Her eyes automatically shut due to sensory overload. She is right at the edge of a precipice – just a hair away from crashing down.
"Open up your eyes, Anastasia! I am not going to tell you again!" Christian growls. Quickly, her eyelids draw up once more, and he slams into her with a powerful force.
He slams once.
Twice.
Thrice.
"That's it!" he bellows.
And she's gone. Ana screams out from her belly as if she is giving up the ghost. Her entire body shatters into a million pieces. And like a volcano filled to capacity with red-hot molten lava and extreme pressure, Christian erupts like never before. His head collapses on top of his wife's chest and he grabs ahold of her tightly, bucking and pouring into her nonstop.
"Oh Ana! Oh Ana!" he cries out – over and over again. Ana still trembles slightly from her own release, but Christian's climax continues to rip through him, actively and unceasingly. Ana lets out a pleased grin and kisses him on his unruly copper locks. Christian's grunts and thrusts weaken as his orgasm finally relents.
"Christian, I am so sorry. You were definitely backed-up due to lack of sex," Ana giggles. She begins massaging his scalp. "I'm afraid to even stand up. You unloaded at least a gallon into me, it seams," she adds. Ana begins to laugh heartily at the thought. Christian is still buried in her chest, but Ana can feel his body leap with a slight but brief chuckle. When her laughing subsides, Christian lets out a deep sigh, unable to move for a few moments. The second he is able to gather his wits, he removes himself out of his wife and she gasps, feeling slightly tender in that area. He then eyes her with wonder, confusion and a hint of embarrassment.
"Mrs. Grey. This has never happened to me before. Ever. I believe that retribution is in order. We're not leaving this penthouse until I wring out every single drop from you. I am going to start by spanking the living shit out of you for keeping sex away from me for so long. Then, I am going to fuck you senseless. Repeatedly. I don't care if you come – I will keep going. I will not stop fucking you hard," he says with a bass-infused tone as his countenance morphs from confused to unshakably authoritative. Ana's earlier grin fades away as she glares at him, dumbfounded.
Christian then bends down to restore his pants and underwear to his waist. Ana watches him fasten up his pants and belt in marvel, afraid to move even an inch. With exceedingly stern eyes, he targets his gaze back at her.
"Honestly, I feel annoyed when I should feel replete. I've never lost it like that before – ever. I need to regain some sense of…dignity. Therefore, the dom jeans are making a comeback. Freshen up and be ready in the playroom in twenty minutes," he says softly, but still manages to make the command sound forceful.
In shock, her mouth and eyes form perfect circles. Before Ana is even able to decide if she wants to get a word in edgewise, Christian turns on his heel and walks away, abandoning her in the foyer. Dumbfounded, Ana carefully lands on her feet and shuffles her dress back down to her legs.
'He's annoyed?! And here – I thought that I was doing something good by surprising him with a night together alone at Escala!' her subconscious hisses. Suddenly, Ana's inner goddess raises up from her chaise longue and thunder punches her haughty subconscious in the throat, causing her to fall off a cliff and into a ravine.
"Master is back," she whispers to herself with eyes aglow.
….
Christian enters the playroom and sees Ana in position. She is naked except for her panties, kneeling with her legs parted wide with hands placed flat on her thighs. Her hair is pulled back in an elastic band. Her eyes are fixed on the floor. She isn't smiling. She is expressionless and subservient.
Barefoot, Christian saunters over to the chesterfield couch and sits down right square in the middle of it.
"Anastasia. You may stand and look at me," he commands.
It's as if the loving, caring husband and father of two has left the penthouse – leaving behind a fierce and determined dominant – a man who hasn't seen the light of day in years. It's as if the old-Christian Grey was repressed in a bottle for a period of time and then suddenly unleashed by the casting of a spell; a spell that Ana never even knew she evoked.
Vanilla sex and attention from his loving wife on a regular basis had kept Christian sated and able to maintain a productive balance in life. That balance enabled him to conquer the daily grind as CEO of a multi-billion dollar global conglomerate. That balance allowed him to be able to function soundly in his roles as a husband, father, son and brother.
However, since Ana gave birth to Phoebe back in August, Christian has been functioning on autopilot.
In flight, autopilot only works for so long. However, when it's time to descend and safely land the aircraft, you must have a sober, well-able bodied pilot at the controls. When it was time for Christian to figuratively land the plane, he panicked. That panic forced him to call Dr. Flynn out of the blue Wednesday afternoon after Ana was unable to cancel her meeting and have lunch with him.
For years, Christian was afraid of anyone placing a hand on him. He wouldn't even let his own mother towel dry his hair as a child. But just before he turned 28 years old, a young, innocent and unassuming girl flipped his world on its head. Gradually, he began to finally let his guard down, eventually trusting her to go where no other person has ever gone before. She tore down his barriers and reformed his very way of thinking.
Before her, he was addicted to inflicting pain on women who had features like his birth mother. He banned anyone from ever touching him. Now, that very same man is addicted to receiving touch – the touch of one woman and one woman alone. Up to this point, that same woman who once yearned to touch this man has now taken him for granted.
Communication is a concept that both Christian and Ana have been working on in their marriage for the past couple of years. However, Christian had been unable to put into exact words how much he needed his wife since she gave birth to their daughter almost five months ago. And now that she is back at work, Christian feels even more neglected. However, he never really considered the notion of neglect until just twenty minutes ago. It was there at Escala – in the foyer – after his never-ending climax that it finally hit him like a ton of bricks. That moment was reminiscent of a starving, malnourished four-year-old child finally being seated at a feast. In Christian's eyes, that should never occur. A child should never go hungry, and a man should never be withheld quality time and intimacy from his own wife.
Christian Grey may not be able to communicate in words his feelings of neglect to his wife Ana. However, Master Grey will sure as hell demonstrate his feelings to Anastasia tonight. He vowed to himself that by the time he is finished with her tonight in this playroom, Ana will never – ever – make that same mistake again.
As instructed, Ana stands to her feet, lifts her head, and slowly turns her back, finding him sitting erect on the chesterfield, wearing nothing but those jeans. For the first time in what seems like ages, Christian is donning his dom jeans…the jeans that he used to wear in the playroom, which are ripped at the knees and hang sexily off of his hipbone.
"It's been a while since we've been in here. Therefore, I will give you just this one reminder: In here, it's 'Yes Sir', 'No Sir.' It's 'Yes Master,' 'No Master'. Nothing else comes out of your mouth without first being addressed. Your smart mouth is not welcomed here in my playroom. Do I make myself clear?"
With sober eyes, Ana replies with, "Yes Sir."
Although she appears powerless on the outside – inside – her now-awakened inner goddess jubilantly leaps for joy. Just like Christian has missed her, Ana has missed him. With all of the hustle and bustle as CEO of Grey Publishing and mother of two very small children, Ana has lost sight. Right now – at this moment – it's just her, her man, and no one else.
"Anastasia, I am going to spank you. But before I explain why I am spanking you, I need you to choose the implement in this room that I will spank you with. You have exactly three minutes to decide when I say 'Go.' After you have chosen your implement, you will then kneel before me and present it. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir."
Christian resets the stopwatch mechanism on his Rolex. "Go," he suddenly calls out.
Ana quickly turns around and scans the entire room. The canes and belts that once adorned the walls back when she first met Christian no longer occupy the room. Suddenly, she recalls a moment from years ago that occurred not to long after they got back together from their very brief breakup when he spanked her with a ruler in the library over the billiards table. She liked that very much.
'Hmm, where would he keep a ruler in here?' Ana thinks to herself.
"Two minutes," he calls out in warning.
'Dammit! Okay…ruler…ruler…where's the ruler?' Ana reflects in haste. Ana shuffles over to the paddles and examines them, hoping to find one that doesn't hurt too badly. Then, something hits her. 'Why shouldn't it hurt? Let's show Grey that we're here to play too!' Ana's inner goddess calls to her.
From the wall, Ana removes a glossy wooden paddle. It's approximately ten inches long – excluding the handle – and a half-inch thick. 'This will do', she resolves within. Slowly, she turns in Christian's direction and makes her way over to him. Standing a foot away from him, she drops down to her knees and presents the paddle to him – holding the implement flat in both hands. She looks him right in his eye – unmoved.
A devious grin slowly unfurls on Christian's lips.
"This is your implement of choice?" he asks.
"Yes Sir," she says, unwavering.
"Okay. Please hand it to me," he instructs.
She places the paddle in his hands.
"Good girl," he commends her.
"Now, concerning your punishment. First offense: You waited months before taking my advice into account concerning our daughter's nighttime interruption – which turned out to be the best solution. Second offense: You have withheld sex from your husband for an extremely long period of time. Do you understand why you are being punished, Anastasia?" he states firmly in an elevated tone.
"Yes Sir," she replies.
"Now, you are going to solve a math story problem in order to determine how many times I will hit you with this," Christian says, holding up the paddle.
"Each time you guess incorrectly, I will add an additional hit to the end of your punishment. Is that clear?" he says authoritatively.
Ana clams up in sheer terror. 'I'm an English major! I'm no math whiz!' she laments internally. Christian witnesses a look of uncertainty in her eyes.
"Is that clear, Anastasia," he repeats, slowly and ominously.
"Yes…yes Sir," she replies, nervously.
"Good. First question: What date did our daughter turn six weeks old? I will give you two minutes to answer."
'He actually knows that?! I don't even remember!' Ana frantically thinks to herself.
"Starting…now," he says, simultaneously pressing the timer on his watch.
Ana runs through the days in her head. 'Okay – August is 31 days…September is 30…'
She begins counting her fingers against her chin. The right corner of Christian's lip rises, humored by his wife's method of calculating. With time still on the clock, Ana deeply exhales before calling out her first answer.
"October 1st…Sir?" she responds with a question. Ana looks up at Christian, fearful of being incorrect.
"That is correct, Anastasia."
Ana's chest falls in relief, but she quickly regains her composure and corrects her kneeling stance.
"So Anastasia…please tell me why October 1st is so significant?"
Ana closes her eyes and drops her head, ashamed.
"That's the date I was okay to start having sex again after giving birth. Sir," she says, quickly remembering her playroom manners.
"Good. Now beginning October 1st, please tell me in weeks and days how long have you withheld sex from me until now." Ana's head drops again, but she nods slowly in concurrence.
"Just to be clear – nothing that we've done prior to this evening counts in my eyes as actual intercourse. So don't get this answer wrong," he adds sternly. Ana looks up and wants to roll her eyes at him in disagreement, but then stops herself.
"I saw that. You almost earned yourself five more hits at the end there," he smirks, raising one brow.
"You have three minutes starting…now," he calls out, pressing his timer.
Again, Ana goes through the months, days and weeks while tapping her chin. With over two minutes on the clock, Ana gives her answer.
"Fourteen weeks, two days, Sir."
For a few beats, Christian remains stone-faced, saying nothing. With each passing moment, Ana grows more and more nervous. Her knees begin to shake. Eventually, Christian puts her out of her misery.
"Good girl."
Ana exhales in relief.
"You know what comes next. Go ahead," he prompts her. She quickly recalls the first time that he spanked her before they were married. She vowed to never get this part wrong ever again.
"Sir, please spank me," she says in a mousy tone.
"Rise and lay across my lap," he commands.
Rising to her feet, she walks over to him on the chesterfield and lies across his lap, placing her bottom directly within his reach. Once in place, Christian slides off her royal blue lace panties, leaving her completely naked.
"Anastasia, I am going to hit you fourteen times – one time for each week that you withheld sex from your husband. You will count with me. Do you understand?" he says.
"Yes Sir," Ana breathes heavily, unsure if it's being driven by fear or by extreme desire.
"Once I am done spanking you, I am going to fuck you very hard. After your spanking, you will stand up, walk behind this couch, place your hands on the couch and spread your legs far and wide. Then, I will join you behind the couch to fuck you from behind. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir," Ana says with clipped breath.
"Good. Then after I've fucked you behind this couch, you will then kneel once again at the starting position and await your next instructions. It's going to be a long night, Anastasia. Luckily, you got some sleep last night," Christian grins salaciously. Ana gasps overwhelmed, yet elated.
"So what are your safe words?" he inquires.
"Yellow and red, Sir," she replies without missing beat.
"Good girl," he beams. Draped across his lap, Ana takes a deep breath in preparation of what is to come.
"Again – fourteen times, and you will count…and safe word if you need to. Understand?" he recaps and looks for her confirmation.
"Yes Sir," she responds.
….
The early Saturday-morning sun shines brightly through the massive windows in the master bedroom at Escala. Christian lies awake in bed, propped up by his elbow, staring lovingly at his wife who is asleep on her stomach. Gently, he trails his fingertips up and down her naked spine. She moans, struggling to wake up. Eventually, she pries her eyelids open.
"Hi," he glitters at her.
"Hi," Ana rasps, smiling with fatigue.
"Baby, thanks so much for last night. It was…beyond my wildest dreams," he murmurs breathlessly in gratitude and adoration.
"You're very welcome," she croaks. He chuckles at her lack of energy.
"I can't believe that you didn't even safe-word. Man…you were amazing. No – more than amazing," Christian raves before placing a tender kiss on her forehead. Ana hums a sigh.
"By the way…I'm sorry. You'll never have to wait that long for sex ever again. I can't imagine how my ass would look like after keeping it from you for a longer period of time," she gravels, chuckling weakly. Christian laughs.
"Apology accepted. Baby, we're in this together. We're both CEOs – we're both parents…but we can't forget about each other as husband and wife. We must take time out for one another – always. Okay?" he pleads to her lovingly, cupping her chin with his hand.
"Okay," she whispers, grinning from ear to ear. He leans over and claims her mouth with his. And soon, they are lost in each other once again.
….
Monday morning, Ethan enters a neutral-colored lobby and takes a seat on a nearby sofa. The tall, athletic blonde is wearing a black suit sans tie with a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He places his black leather portfolio in the empty space directly next to him.
"Sir? Are you Ethan Kavanagh?" an older lady with salt and pepper hair calls out behind the desk.
"Yes?" Ethan replies nervously.
"Welcome! She will be right with you in just a moment," the woman informs. Ethan gives her a kind nod before looking down at the cell phone in his lap. The device keeps him occupied in order to quell the nervousness that threatens to overtake him. He can't bear to hear another 'no' yet again. He tries to entertain positive thoughts in order for an upbeat attitude to shine through in his likable persona.
Ethan looks up just in time to witness a different woman – a younger, tall, attractive blonde wearing a navy blue pants suit and matching eyeglass frames, saunter from behind the counter.
"Mr. Kavanagh?" she calls out, approaching Ethan.
"Ye…yes," he stutters, standing to his feet.
"Dr. Sarah Carlson. Thank you for coming here on such short notice," she beams.
"No problem. Thank you for seeing me so quickly. I'd just left you a message Saturday morning out on a whim. I didn't expect for you to call me back right away," Ethan grins, firmly shaking her hand.
"I work Saturdays on occasion, so I was glad to hear your message just in the nick of time. So, you want to follow me back to my office?" she asks.
"Sure," he replies before trailing her behind the counter and down the hallway.
Twenty minutes into the interview, the time has now come for Dr. Carlson to talk and for Ethan to listen.
"Ethan, you are a bright young mind and we could definitely use you here at our practice," Sarah says. Ethan grins and nods at her in appreciation.
"You mentioned earlier that you spoke with Dr. John Flynn not too long ago inquiring about a position over at his practice, which he turned you down for due to your brother-in-law's brother being his biggest client," she smirks.
"Well, Dr. Flynn didn't say that he was his biggest client," Ethan clarifies.
"No Ethan, I'm telling you that he is," Sarah snorts. Ethan chuckles at her.
"Ethan. I'm from the adage of, look – I don't care if your own mama is a client here, you as a professional must have the decency to uphold the psychotherapist's oath. If you can't be discrete with information from a relative or a friend of a friend, how will you be discrete with confidential information from a total and complete stranger? Right?" Sarah reasons. Ethan nods vehemently at her poignancy.
"So on that note, I want you here, Ethan. You know that Ana Grey is my client. And I know that you will not discuss anything that you may see here with anyone," Sarah says with total resolve.
"Oh, absolutely. I am here to help and protect the clients," Ethan responds like a decorated boy scout.
"Excellent! Well, welcome aboard! You'll begin here as soon as you are released from the hospital. And we will work around your lunch catering schedule," Sarah beams.
"Oh man! Thank you so, so much Dr. Carlson!" Ethan says excitedly, delivering her a vigorous handshake.
"My pleasure. And please, call me Sarah. I look forward to working with you, Ethan."
