Once again, I thank Thirst for pre-reading. Sometimes I forget, but I'm always grateful to have another set of eyes go over my work before I hit publish. Sometimes I don't take some of her well-meaning criticism and wind up wanting to kick my own ass.
A/N: I take exception to that. I think Elena gave Leila some fabulous advice. If she wasn't so delusional, clingy, wily, disrespectful, impulsive, masochistic and intent on having things her own way… And if Christian wanted more from her than submission… OK, that's a hell of a lot of ifs.
Besides, I thought you would appreciate all the sex Christian and Elena were having. I think we get so caught up on the physical process of inserting tab A into slot B, that we forget that a major portion of the sex act occurs in the mind.
Thus, at least to me, Christian and Elena are having at least an emotional affair. First, they have WEEKLY lunches or dinners where they routinely discuss the intimacy which occurs with their respective partners. Next, in the IaSS (In a Split Second) universe, they've shared at least some of the same sexual partners, whether either Christian or Elena nails the sub first. They're basically swapping sloppy seconds and they BOTH find this particular aspect of their lives funny and neither one shows any jealousy over it. Also, they're tag teaming his subs for their own amusement. Elena procures the subs. Christian gets sick of them. Elena gives them some advice and BAM! They're gone. If you don't consider that a surrogate form of sex (a ménage à trois by proxy), you've missed the plot.
Why else would Elena go absolutely crackers at the very idea of Anastasia? Because Ana wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. Didn't want to talk, chat, think about, email or be within driving distance of her. Elena couldn't control this new party within her and Christian's unspoken trio and Christian wouldn't share. Elena offered to "train" Anastasia and Christian said no. Did any of you get that from Grey? Essentially with Ana, Christian had broken their unspoken pact.
A fellow author and FB friend, sherryola, writes:
"I don't feel any sympathy for Leila. He told her, and even Elena told her, that Christian didn't do hearts and flowers and wouldn't fall in love. And yes, I've fallen for people who didn't love me back. But I've never thought Leila was so much in love as in desire and comfort and security."
This is true, but there are so many people who have this "I'll make it fit!" mentality and nothing you can do will convince them otherwise. Two words: Caroline Bingley. The school of hard knocks just gives them a 'P' for passing, just for showing up, but they'll never be able to write a thesis or a dissertation about reality. Even when firmly rejected, they merely consider it a setback. What doesn't kill them, (literally) makes them stronger and even more persistent. Leila blatantly ignores facts which do not support her beliefs whilst greedily grasping at straws.
Some readers also wondered why the earlier chapters contained so much Leila-Christian-Elena interaction. Have you ever seen I, Robot? There's a scene in which Dr Lanning says, "Everything that follows is a result of what you see here."
Well, I'm calling ditto. Everything that Leila does in the next chapters is a direct result of what happened in the previous chapters. In canon, we have a Christian who is obsessed with Ana's security, yet has placed almost no emphasis on his own safety. I refuse to believe that his high-caliber, well-paid, ex-military security team didn't make serious attempts to seal all the holes in his security plan.
However, he stifles them at every turn because he believes he's invincible. He forbid his security to carry firearms, but BILLIONAIRE! He's risking their lives to prove a point and to make Grace feel good. Isn't it interesting that the first time we hear about a safe room is AFTER Ana and Christian were married? Christian became far more serious about security once he had someone to lose.
Mistress Lincoln left me with much food for thought. As soon as Franco finished with me, I left the salon to head back to my apartment. Had all of my cooking lessons and Pilates been for nothing? Had I failed to perform to Master's standards because I had taken so much upon myself and neglected my duties to him?
I'd devoted the past year to learning everything that pleased him. Cooking his favorite French dishes, attending workshops where I studied the fine art of vaginal and anal fisting and relaxation methods. Erotic massage and caning classes. Everything I knew Master liked.
Spending less and less time in my apartment to combat the between weekends, I began to shop far more than usual, though I hardly remembered purchasing most of the items in my closet. Though my fridge was stocked with healthy choices according to Master's list, I was appalled to learn that the groceries cost almost a quarter of my paycheck. Everything had to be high in minerals, vitamins, antioxidants, and certified organic. And all the meats had to be low in fat and very lean. I was glad we lived in Seattle, because I could easily reach the fish market on my way home from work. He even had a favorite water! But I bit the bullet and made sure that I adhered to His fucking list!
Since Master preferred anal, I received regular colonics. After one awful episode of accidental scat, I insured that experience would never be repeated. I was relieved visits to Esclava were gratis, because otherwise they would've financially crippled me. As it was, I often found ways to return some of the things Master bought me for a cash refund or in-store credit. While Master was very generous if he knew someone had a need, it wouldn't have been smart to let him know how close I was to losing my apartment on a monthly basis. While I was more than welcome on the weekends, Master wasn't running a boarding house.
I adhered so closely to all of his guidelines and suggestions, while financially extending myself, because I saw it as a temporary setback and an investment toward the future. See, if I hung on long enough, and made myself indispensable, eventually I'd wear him down like water on stone. It was inevitable. Master was generous to all of his subs, but he'd provide an embarrassment of riches to his woman. I saw it all the time. A sidepiece might get an apartment or a car from a man, but wives and girlfriends got homes they shared and real security. I wanted to be the one on his arm and gracing his bed. If I kept Master satisfied, I'd be treated like a queen.
I wouldn't be the nameless, fatherless brat to a teen mother who died while giving birth in a trailer home. I was adopted, but my parents always let me know where I came from. I might've loved them for their honesty had they not furnished all the dirty details after I'd been assigned a family tree project, and ensuring I added a dashed line to show our adoptive relationship. Master, along with his two siblings, was adopted, but his parents proudly claimed them all. If Master chose me, I could be a Grey, too. And with that, no doors would be closed to me. No longer would I be left on the outside looking in. All I had to so was hold on…
Mistress Elena had stupidly handed me the last piece of the puzzle. It had never occurred to me that my plan had borne fruit so soon. And if Master's very good friend was suggesting that I step up, Master must have confided his feelings for me to her!
My room in his apartment had been designed completely to my tastes, even down to the crystal chandelier and sumptuous canopy bed. He didn't care about the decor, or the cost, only that it was kept neat and tidy. He hardly ever saw it, unless he was depositing my boneless, sated body into my bed. He didn't care about the satin sheets, though I appreciated them. Everything there was better than my apartment. But most of all, I loved that the room was just for me. In some ways, it felt more like home than anywhere else I had ever lived, even if I stayed less than thirty percent of the time.
Having the codes to his palace in the sky was extremely empowering. So was tooling around in the car he bought me, while wearing the clothes he paid for. I had never been so cherished. That's why I had to fight to remain at his side. No-one would ever, ever take care of me as good as Master, and I was going to please him so well he wouldn't consider turning me loose.
I had been doing the same thing, expecting a different result, but all that had bought me was time, which I haven't been using wisely if my conversation with Mistress was anything to go by. According to her, I was dishonoring Master by withholding my thoughts and feelings.
But when did I actually have time to express anything of the sort? When I was bound and gagged? While at dinner, when I knew better than to break the silence? Disturbing him while he was working? Fuck, I'd have to make an appointment with his fucking work wife, Andrea, the bitch! He's always talking to her on the phone or receiving texts. I didn't like it.
The first thing I wanted to do when Master and I took our relationship to the next level is make him fire her. I don't like that she takes so much of his attention. More than a few weekends he left town on "business trips" soon after she called. There had to be a correlation. He said he was monogamous in all his relationships, but I've been fucked around on before. I knew the signs.
I planned to jettison Mistress Elena too, as soon as I had him locked down. Though she helped me a lot, she was extra. Dealing with her was like having two Doms at the same time. Hours after speaking with her, I always sensed that she had been talking down to me. Though I chalked most of her attitude up to her being a Dominatrix, I still didn't like it. Once I told Master how mean she had been to me, he would get rid of her like that! It wasn't like he would be needing her to find him anymore subs.
And once I started thinking about the subs from the Sub Club, I got pissed all over again. While they served as a great source of intel about Master's likes, dislikes and habits, I was pissed at their existence. It's all fun and games until one of those bitches talks about how he touched them, what they consumed on those rare occasions when Sir allowed them to eat with him, or what powerful orgasms he unleashed on their willing bodies. They would have no place at all under my new regime. The thought of spending any more time with whores who'd fucked my Master was intolerable. They laughed and joked about serving Sir as if it was a sub's ultimate rite of passage and a springboard to other contracts.
This concept bothered me because while I was prepared physically for a long-term relationship with Master, I was sure that I couldn't sustain the appearance of submission full-time. It would be too easy to slip up in a relationship based around 24-7 total power exchange. So not only would I have to ask Master for an official relationship, I'd also be asking for a complete overhaul of the one we presently had. And I wasn't sure how Master would take my request to convert my weekend submission to kinky vanilla.
Suddenly, my heart squeezed in apprehension. This was all happening too fast, but I realized if I missed this window, it might not ever open again. Master wasn't known for handing out second chances, so I was going to reach out and grab this one with both hands. And maybe I'd rethink Elena's advice for complete transparency. Judicious bits of truth sparingly sprinkled as we went would be perfect. I would start by asking for more. However, he didn't need to know that more meant everything just yet.
