Thank you! Your reviews and alerts I have received are so positive and appreciated. I get so fearful writing as I'm not a confident writer so it helps. I appreciate the comments and feedback so much, so do keep them coming so I know what you think!

Shades of Black and White

His fingers play with the strands at the back of my hair, keeping me still.

Kiss me, I'm sure my eyes are pleading as I peer deeply into his. Now's the time. Kiss me now, please.

His eyes shine as they peer into mine, some unidentifiable emotion glistening in them. Does he want to kiss me too, right now? Somehow, I feel he does. He must. Well, I'm hoping he feels it too. The need to kiss me. The longing, the wanting to.

His eyes drop down to my lips and I drag my tongue along them, moistening them instinctively. I can hear myself breathing laboriously, panting. I can hear him breathing loudly too.

"I want you to kiss me," I finally manage, my voice breathless, shy. I figure he isn't a mind-reader; He can't read what I want, or what I need. What I want is to feel his mouth on mine. And, apparently, what I want and need is what he wants and needs as well.

Christian's fingers curl and tighten in my hair, pulling and tugging at the strands a little. Then he bends down. The instance his lips touch and pucker against mine, soft and warm and closed-mouthed, I feel that weird current again, that charge, pulsing around my skin. I'm too immersed in the feeling of his lips against mine that I can hardly bring myself to wonder whether he feels it, too.

I allow my eyes to close, moaning into his lips as they move against mine, slowly, leisurely. Experimentally. It's the first time I have ever really been kissed like this by a man before, if ever. I reach up tentatively, stroking the side of his hair, as he turns his head to the side, and my lips finally part. He slides his warm, slippery tongue into my mouth, and it's the first time a guy has ever slipped his tongue into my mouth too. Oddly enough, it doesn't feel strange at all. The way he moves his tongue, sliding it against mine effortlessly to a rhythm that feels almost sensual, its nice. It feels right. Wonderful.

And then Liebestod, the music track on repeat playing through his stereo system skips and repeats eerily, as though its a CD and it keeps getting caught on a scratch.

His hand is still in my hair and he's using his other hand to cradle the side of my face, our mouths moving more intensely, more quicker and passionately. This only causes the stereo to make a strange sizzling noise, and then the track bumps and stops to a screeching halt.

We break apart at the sound, breathing heavily. I'm the one to laugh breathlessly in embarrassment while Christian smiles, striding briskly to his stereo system to fix it and turn off his IPod.

"Not sure what's happening there," he says, his voice sounding oddly strange, huskier. "Usually it plays fine. It doesn't do that normally." He switches it off, his place dead silent now without any music.

"Maybe it was due to us?" I mutter, teasing. "Maybe it can't stand the heat?"

"Maybe," he agrees, mostly to himself. He turns back to look at me, blowing through his mouth.

He's probably just as affected by the kiss as I am, and that reassures me. It's nice to know even I can have that effect.

He combs his fingers through his hair while slowly walking back to me again, and he reaches out, taking my hand by the forefinger with his middle finger and thumb. Just like that, I feel that feeling again. What is it? Will it ever go away?

"Can you feel that, too?" I ask nervously, just to be sure.

Christian nods once, licking his lips. "That energy?"

"Yeah, that energy." He plays with my finger, stroking the tip of it. I peer up at his face, worried. I just hope he's feeling it completely too and that it's somehow normal. "It's hard to describe. But you are feeling it too, aren't you?"

"Like an electrical charge? A current? Something like that?" My ears are thrumming when he glides the pad of his thumb up and down my forefinger.

"Yeah, like... thrumming, almost?" I peer down, watching his thumb stroking my finger. Even something as simple as him stroking it, it makes my cheeks burn. "In your bones and... in your blood?"

"Yes, I feel it too lately." He inhales deeply. "Whenever I touch you, whenever I'm... near you. I feel it."

"Do you think its how everyone feels when they're with their soul mate?" I wonder out loud. I catch his thumb with my own by twisting it around, stroking his thumb this time. "Like everyone feels the same? That charge?"

"I'm not sure, Anastasia." He shrugs, inhaling out again. "I haven't really bothered asking before." Since I've got his thumb captive with mine, he lifts up, using his other hand. He scrapes his fingertips gently down my wrist, my palm, leaving a tingling sensation in his wake. I think I like his hands. Warm, masculine. Not too soft, but not too dry. They feel good touching me. I can tell I'm blushing at the thought, a small smile playing along my lips. "Do you want to stay at my place?" he suddenly asks, breaking me out of my distracted mood.

I glance up at him indecisively, biting down on my bottom lip. Do I want to stay over for the night? Yes, of course I do. My answer is already there the instance I peer up at him, meeting Christian's gaze.

"Yes," I answer hesitantly. "I think I would like to."

"There's no pressure. If you want, I can drive you back in your new car and then easily get Taylor to pick me up from yours. There's really no-"

"- No," I get out too hastily, desperately. The thought of leaving now, of separation, it's hard to contemplate. I almost feel a weird ache in my gut at the thought. "I definitely want to stay. Do you mind if I do?" I scrutinize his face anxiously.

"Of course not," he says with a smile. "I want you to. I just didn't want you to feel pressured, that's all."

"Well, don't worry." I grab the sleeve of his shirt, pushing it up and rolling it around his forearm. I don't know what I'm doing or where such confidence comes from, but I suppose this is like a harmless little game. I start running the tips of my fingers slowly down the inside of his warm forearm like he did me, all the way down to his palm and tips of his slender fingers, then back up again. It makes me feel content, blissful doing it. As though touching his skin is soothing, calming on me. "I definitely don't feel pressured, Christian."

I hear his breathing change faintly and when I peek up at him, I see he is watching my fingers carefully, following their movement. It's like he's entranced by the way my fingers are trailing back and forth over his skin, his mouth slightly parted. The look on his face... sort of slack, filled with enjoyment, it sends a weird gushing warmth straight to the center of my belly. It feels so good that I can seem to affect him, simply by touch alone. When he turns his gaze up to meet mine, he smiles at me, a closed-lipped, small smirk of a smile. I can feel my cheeks heating up again, damn it.

"Red," he murmurs with a chuckle. "Your cheeks are red again. You're blushing." Someone's been studying their color chart really well lately.

God, am I that obvious? I bite down on my lip, suppressing my own smile. I run my fingers down along his muscular arm again.

"It's strange." His breath hitches in his throat.

"What is?" When I peer up at him again, I see he isn't smiling or making fun of me anymore. He looks completely serious as he watches my fingers again, tracing down his arm, his palm, to his fingers.

"I actually like you touching me," he confesses, his voice strained.

"What's strange about that?" I ask in confusion, though I can't help feeling gleeful. He likes me touching him, too.

"I just... I never thought I would."

At his words, I move my fingers away, clenching them tight in a fist. He didn't think he would enjoy me touching him? What's that supposed to mean? He's rather confusing at times.

"I never meant it like that," he says hastily, perhaps seeing something on my face. He grabs my hand, stroking my wrist with his thumb. "I just... it's difficult to explain." He looks torn, troubled, as he shakes his head. "I can't explain it completely to you."

"But why can't you?" I ask gently.

"I just can't, Ana." The words are filled with frustration. "A part of me feels that you..." He hesitates, sighing loudly. "I feel like you wouldn't understand."

"Well, I might understand if you let me? If you want to take the time to explain it to me so that I can understand?"

His forehead creases in irritation as he shakes his head again. "I can't."

"Okay." I'll try my hardest not to push him. It's like with that other thing too. With the non-disclosure agreement. There was something he was hiding; Something he wasn't ready to properly explain. Why push him into it? I can wait for now. Without warning, a yawn escapes me from nowhere.

"Are you tired?"

I have to think it through for a second. "I don't know. Not... really." I feel that annoying glow of heat to my cheeks again. "I mean, I don't feel like sleeping. There are... other things I sort of have in mind."

"Other things?"

"Yeah." I'm too shy to elaborate, but I hope he gets it. I wouldn't mind kissing some more. Just kissing and relaxing next to him, talking, touching... And I think he does get it. He brings his hand away, stepping back from me.

"I'll go find something for you to wear to bed. I might have a T-shirt or something that might make you feel comfortable."

"Okay." I watch him go, while bringing up my knuckles on both hands, pressing them to both cheeks. God, I feel too warm. Too flushed. It's embarrassing.

When he returns into the room, Christian holds out a big white T-shirt. I take it from him, holding it against my chest. It will be baggy on me and too long, but sometimes it makes it all the more comfortable. I find myself liking the idea, perhaps too much, of wearing something that belongs to him.

"I'll show you where the bathroom is to get changed." He takes my hand, leading me away from his couch. We go down a carpeted narrow hallway, and then he opens a door, showing me to a rather spacious bathroom. It's all white tiles and a see-through glass window shower and even a huge claw-foot bath. "I'll leave you to it."

"Okay." He turns to look at me once last time, something there in his eyes, before he leaves me in peace.

As I close the door up, I let out a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I really shouldn't think too much of this. This is meant to happen and this is where I am supposed to be.

I kick off my flats, then I peel off my jacket, unbutton and take off my jeans. I catch my reflection in the large mirror as I shove off my shirt, eyeing my bra.

"Yellow," I whisper to myself, just to amuse myself, I suppose. "Your bra is yellow." I laugh to myself while sliding into his too large shirt, peering down at my bare legs. The shirt goes down to my thighs at least, so I don't feel too exposed. I lift up the bottom of it, just to check. "Black," I mumble to myself, eyeing my boy-leg briefs. "Your underwear is black and so not sexy for a man. But what else can we do about that right now?"

I peer at myself nervously in the mirror, making sure my face looks okay. I still look flushed and red as anything, which is irritating. But I think Christian likes the fact my cheeks go red every now and then, so that's at least something to feel good about.

All done, I reach down, grabbing my old clothes and my flats. When I push the door back open, I glance up and I stop dead still in my tracks, my heart racing.

Christian is standing there, waiting for me. Dressed in nothing but boxer shorts. There goes my damn cheeks again. I deliberately turn away, pretending I haven't noticed.

"Is the shirt comfortable enough?" he asks softly.

"Um, yes." I sound like I have a frog stuck in my throat. "It's very comfy."

I'm being ridiculous. Bracing myself, I force myself to meet his gaze from where he stands. You can't not help seeing the entire package. I may be focusing on meeting his gaze, but I see everything along with it. His toned chest. His muscular thighs because the boxer briefs are rather low.

"Blue," I gush out, just to break the ice. "Your... boxers are blue."

"That's right," he says, something there in his tone. Is he making fun of me right now? Is he privately laughing at my awkwardness? "And silk." I catch him running his hands down the sides of his boxers. "They're silk, too."

I glance down at my old clothes, feeling my cheeks burning. "Um, so where can I put my clothes? Is there somewhere I can put them for tomorrow?"

"Here, I'll take them." He steps forward and I avoid looking at him while he takes my stuff. "I'll show you where the bedroom is. It's just through here."

I follow him slowly, trying not to look at his body. But it's sort of hard not to. My eyes focus on the back of his thighs, at how powerful and muscular they look, as he walks. I never thought I'd want to be with a man so soon, but I find I definitely do.

We reach his bedroom and he puts my stuff on an old antique armchair near the window. His bedroom is huge. What's more, he's got the best view in his entire apartment of Seattle, I think. I gasp, moving towards the window, marveling it all. He's so lucky. It's beautiful.

"Who needs to bother with traveling all around the world to various locations when you get to see this every night?" I say, standing so close to the window my nose almost brushes against it. "It's beautiful. The lights. The stars and the sky. All of it."

"It wasn't as beautiful before," Christian says, and his voice comes from right behind me. I don't even need to glance behind me to know he's there. "It was... dull before. Very dark, always gloomy looking." I feel that feeling again, a surge of static electricity running up my legs. He's standing behind me, close to me. I can just tell. It's amazing how attuned my body feels to him, my soul mate. "Before, it seemed... constantly rainy out there. And bleak."

I feel my heart rate accelerate when he places a hand on my stomach, his fingers spread apart and outstretched. I bite my lip, trying not to breathe too loudly when he leans against me from behind. Now that he has, that thrumming has affected me everywhere. All over my skin, prickling me, making my legs feel like Jell-O again.

"I definitely like the way it is now." He rests his chin against my shoulder, the light stubble beneath his skin scratching me faintly.

"Me, too," I whisper softly in agreement. I reach down, placing my hand over his that's resting and stroking my stomach through his baggy T-shirt. "I definitely like how it looks a lot more now, too."

Christian turns his head, and I feel my stomach spasm in a not too unpleasant way as his nose and mouth brushes up against the side of my face. What is he doing to me?

"What do you want to do now, Anastasia?" he breathes against my skin, and I don't know what to think or what to do when he places his other hand on my thigh, slipping it beneath the end of his baggy shirt.

"Um, I... I don't know." A nervous laugh escapes me when he moves his hand around my thigh, beneath the shirt.

I feel like he's trying to seduce me. And while it's completely welcome and flattering, it's also frightening too. Disarming. He's so brave and bold and evidently so confident with his own sexuality and how it all works. I just feel rather... out-of-place and awkward right now, without knowing what to do. He's like a confident sexual beast. It's overwhelming. It's only been four days that we have known each other and already, here we are.

Four days. He was in a previous semi-serious relationship which he broke off for me. He's already brought me an expensive car. Took me out on multiple dinner dates. And now, here we are.

When Christian's fingers reach the side of my underwear, and he starts sneaking his fingers beneath the material, I have to stop it then. I reach down beneath the shirt, grabbing his hand, clasping onto it instead. Too fast. It just feels too fast in a way I'm not comfortable with right now.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, ashamed. "I just..."

I have never felt more sheltered in my life than I have now, not to mention angry with myself. I want him. I just... I'm scared. I've been waiting for this moment my whole life, meeting my soul mate, being loyal to whoever he was and making sure I waited for him and that I didn't experiment or do anything with anybody else, but him; the person that gives me back the gift of colors. And now I'm chickening out?

"Fuck," he breathes shakily, and when he pulls away from me, I feel like the most horrible person in the world. I've offended him.

I turn around quickly to look at him. Both hands are in his hair as he stares down at something on the ground. I can't see his expression all that well, but he seems... remorseful?

"Please, Christian," I get out quickly, wanting him to understand. "I do want you that way. I just... I need a little time. I need for us to take this a bit slower." I clasp my hands together in front of me, yanking my fingers. I really hope he doesn't think I don't want him, because I do. It's just... me. "Is that okay?"

Slowly, Christian moves his hands out from his hair. "That's fine, of course it is."

"Are you sure? Please know that I do want you that way, and it's nothing you've done. I would just feel better if-"

"-We take it slow," he finishes softly. "I know, Ana. And I understand. It's fine."

I still feel terrible about it. Even when I step forward, grasping onto his forearms, rubbing them with my palms. "I do want you."

"Really, Ana," he says, his voice low. Heartfelt. "It's fine."

I'm still doubtful it is truly fine, but then he reaches up with both hands, stroking my hair and the side of my face while he peers down at me through the dark of his bedroom.

"It's fine," Christian assures me again, and he kisses my cheek, then moves up to kiss my forehead as well. "We'll take it as slow as you need, of course." He runs his fingers through the strands of my hair, then places them on my shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze. "There's no rush. We have the rest of our lives, after all."

Couldn't resist writing another chapter. Hope this is okay and that it isn't terrible. Hoping the decision I've made for Ana is okay. I guess she is a lot more innocent and shy at first, hope that is okay? Don't hate me **runs** This will have a happy ending but Ana will be confronted by the secrets Christian is keeping from her when his past returns to bite him in the behind, so quite some drama. More of their soul mate connection will come into view as well as Christian's possessiveness and paranoia over Ana's safety, particularly with Leila on the loose and his determination that his past isn't revealed due to fear Ana will think negatively. Will try update twice a week if can. Am eager for Fifty Shades Darker ;)