Hi! Thanks for all of your positive reviews on this story:) I appreciate it, and I'm glad you're enjoying it as much as I am writing it.
In response to danyailew's question, "You keep writing 'Ana POV' at the top of each chapter, does that mean you'll be writing a Christians POV soon?" The answer is yes. I will be doing a complete duplicate of this story in Christian's perspective after this one:) But writing "ANA POV" before every chapter makes it feel like it's a barrier or wall between the authors note and the actual chapter. So I am going to keep writing that for closure even though it'll always be her POV until the Before he was Fifty Shades Fanfic of Christians POV comes out. (It may be named something else, IDK yet. ;)
I hoped that answered your question! Thanks!
ANA POV
I run down an unfamiliar long, blurry hallway in panic towards the sounds of Christian's agenizing screams of panic as they echo off the walls. When I feel I've reached him I push open the door, but only to crush my hopes when I see nothing to my advantage. I then hear more cries further down the hallway and the scenario starts againas I push, pull and bang on every door until my palm is thrumming with soreness and is numb without feeling- hoping to find him, comfort him, and reveal in the feeling of him being with me safe and sound.
I'm surprised that I can't taste blood on my tongue as my top teeth dig into my lower lip. Short and fast breaths speed in and out of my mouth as a hysteria attack assaults me as I run- tripping a couple times over my own two feet- further down this foreign place. The unspeakable happens when I think I know where he is. His voice's wordless and tortured pleas for help surround me- echoing off the wall- as if there are hundreds- no, thousands- of him around me in an unseen paranormal dome. Above me, under me, circling around me, tormenting me- and I can't escape it. I clutch the sides of my head, and slide down the wall with my knees against my chest, my teeth clenched, and my eyes squeezed shut, trying to rock myself to an impossible to find comfort zone, sweet dewing on my forehead.
"Please quite, please quite, please quite," I chant to myself quietly in quick jumbled pleas, "Stop." I cry shakily towards the invisible source- as if it'll have pity- but they become louder and faster, "Stop!" I say more forcefully, "Stop. Stop! Stop!" I scream back at them all.
Just like that Christians taunting cries disappear from around me as if they were sucked from the hallway and back into their evil layers where they came from. I shakily and slowly open my eyes. I'm not where I was before- rocking myself helplessly in the loneliness against the wall, and on the hard wood creaky floor- I'm standing in front of a black door, a normal black door. I now wish that there were voices surrounding me, which would be better than this cold, stillness, and silence. Like the climax of a movie- waiting for the worst part knowing it'll be more horrible than anything else. Every cell in my body is yelling at me to stay away from the black door, not to open the black door- but I'm drawn to it like a moth to a flame walking closer. I feel an object in my jeans pocket, I struggle taking it out, almost dropping it. With shaking legs, arms, and everything else I push the key into the door knob and turn it. The door creaks slowly open and I take a step inside.
The knowledge I know burns like hell from choosing to open this damn door. The cries aren't from pain, there from pleasure, and the pleas aren't for less, there for more- and their coming from his voice. I cringe when I look down and see Christian kneeling in front of me; I didn't see him anywhere when I came in.
"Chri- Chri- Christian?" I quiver and my voice breaks.
He says only one word to me with his head bowed- not meeting my eyes, not touching me. His voice sounds like a lost child, "Ma'am." He breathes.
I gasp.
My eyes snap open and I'm looking up at Christian's bedroom ceiling, I pant from shock and surprise at my unwelcomed dream. What happened? -and why did he call me 'Ma'am'? I take a deep well-deserved breath; in and out, in and out until I'm calmed down more and my heart rate returns to its normal pace. I finally recognize my surroundings as I look around the room- Christians bedroom. I stiffly sit up and stretch my arms out over my head yawning deeply. I can't help the wide grin that spreads across my face as I do so. When I stand from the bed I feel a draft, I look down at my bottom half and blush scarlet. I now remember that I'm wearing Christian's blue pin stripped boxer briefs that go just above my knees. I smile at the memory of last night, and the one word that comes to mind is- satisfied.
At the thought it feels as if I've been away from Christian way to long- even though I slept in his bed with him. I take my time and walk to the stairs; I stop at the top when I hear voices coming from the kitchen.
"Why are you here?" Christians asks. He must be in the kitchen because I can only hear the echo of his voice- I cringe.
I immediately stop in my tracks and hold my breath in panic. Did his parents come home early? What if they catch me here, with fucked hair, and in Christian's boxers, I freak out inwardly. I bite down on my lower lip and- thinking of my dream- lick it to taste for blood, still listening intently.
"Your parents told me to come and check on you. They were worried that you might've been in the middle of a run while that nasty storm hit." She purrs. "You know, for reassurance that you alright."
My panic turns to anger when I hear the voice of Elena. Fucking Elena Lincoln is down stairs.
"Well I'm fine, Elena." He says her name quietly, unsurely- making sure it's alright to call her by her first name at all. "Thank you for your concern."
"Of course Dear, any time." She sounds… seductive- towards a 15 year old boy…? I think at this point my heart stops.
It's quiet for a couple more seconds, my breathings ragged.
"Are you still seeing that Anastasia girl?" She spits my name at him.
He's quiet- debating, "No." one simple word, "We're not dating- ask anyone." He adds quickly.
I shudder, clutching the stair case railing for support. I feeling a lone tear pucker in my eye and slowly roll down my face as my bottom lip quivers.
"I think you should leave now." He says cutely.
I can feel the sly smile she gives him in her voice, "You know you want me." She whispers sounding like the devil himself with a brief mocking laugh, "What do you kids call it- a crush? " she laughs.
"Yes," he breathes, "I do have a crush on you," he chuckles half-heartedly, "But-,"
I can't take any of this shit anymore, I run to the bathroom. He's wanted her the whole time he's been with me? My world is crumbling at the hands of a Monday morning. It was all just a fling to him- so he can get his kicks while he was thinking of her. And the most painful part is in a way I've known all along. Truly he wasn't really mine at all, he never was honestly mine, and from the start all he wanted was to have his way with me without attachments. I'm such a fool! The warm slow tears still spilling over my cheeks, onto my- his- shirt, as I gasp trying to catch my breath from my ragged tearful breathing. It doesn't even matter in if he loves me now. He was still just using me for his own personal gratification in the beginning probably thinking of her. Like I'm a toy. And the most sickening part is he likes her and she's leading him one- like a dog and a bone.
He's been lying to me about his feelings towards her all this time, and I trusted him. I would have trusted him with my life if he asked me to. I think of all our memories. The walk, the sweet kissing, the hard kissing, when I let him palm me, when I let him go down on me… I can't see past my tears as I clutch my knees- needing to hold onto something for support.
Minutes later I finally stand up and slash the tears away with the back of my hand as I look at myself in the mirror. Idiot, my subconscious spits in disgust. I take a good look at my face. The funny part is- if there even is a "funny" part- that I've never thought that I would have been this type of girl; the girl that sits alone on the bathroom floor crying about a boy. I look at myself longer sniffing back tears. What am I to do? I'll tell you what you're not going to do Anastasia Rose Steele. You're not going to spend your time sobbing over a man that cares to little that he'd do this to you, my inner bitch bites at me. I think I like her- she's a stronger me. You're going to suck this shit up and make him want you- badly. She growls- she's out for revenge. You're going to wait for that bitch to leave and then go down stairs. Act like everything's normal, and see if he'll lie to you about her being here. I touch up my eyes making sure no trace of wryness is present and go to the stair case once more.
"Are you ever going to come back to my house for work, Christian?"
"Yes, but for the house work asked by Linc, not yours." He says roughly.
What the fuck does that mean?
She whispers something to him too low for me to hear. She then walks smirking to the front door and closes it- leaving.
Moments later I walk to the kitchen myself, and stand in front of the man I once trusted. Hold yourself together Steele.
I fake a yawn and smile sheepishly up at him, "Good morning. Shouldn't we be getting ready for School?"
He chuckles, "My little scholar," and kisses me on the tip of my nose as he holds my tight, "My parents- and apparently Mr. Kavanagh asked Ray- to call us both in sick for the day, since we don't have a way to get to school. Even though I could easily drive," he rolls his eyes.
I gasp, "They don't know I'm here, do they?"
He shakes his head, "No. I told them I would walk to the Kavanaghs house and tell you," He grins- Oh, I love his charming grin. He's breathtaking; he's also a liar, "since you weren't picking up the house phone when Kate called. Is there something you're not telling me?" he jokes.
I smile shyly up at him not giving my real thoughts away; No, but there's something you're not.
He frowns; "You're quiet, what's wrong?" he looks worried- as if I may know what really went down this morning.
I give nothing away, "I'm just tired, and that's all."
He speculates me for a minute and then sighs in relief, "So what do you want to do today?" He suggestively runs his finger down my back; up and down up and down.
I groan in pure delight. His hand then slides to my chin, he tilts my head up to meet his ever so willing lips and our mouths crush together. His tongue is exploring my mouth, tasting, messaging and moving against mine.
Yes, my inner bitch pipes up, now make him want you. Show him- make him know- who he really wants. Own him.
Show time Steele. I slide my hand down his thigh- I've never been in this territory before. I then "accidentally" sweep the back of my hand against his crotch…
"Shit, Ana!" He grasps effectively breaking our lip lock.
"Woops," I pretend to fray innocence's mockingly, "Sorry," I say, and bite down hard on my lip.
His eyebrows shoot up, looking down at me with surprise- his breathing ragged- and his lips in a small disbelieving smile.
My inner bitch pats my back.
He shakes his head at me still smiling, "I want you upstairs." His voice is strained, "Now." He growls.
Oh no, Grey. It's not going to be that easy, I shakes my finger at him mentally, "I'm kind of starving, Christian." I say sheepishly.
His face blanches the slightest at the word for some unknown reason. He then sighs, "What would you like?" he asks finding his manners.
"Cereal will be fine," I say softly.
He rolls his eyes, "that's not a very fulfilling breakfast," he says under his breath as he walks to the kitchen cabinet. He takes out five plastic container tubs and places them in a row on the counter. "We have Fruit loops, Corn Flakes, Lucky charms- Mia's personal favorite, Honey Nut cheerios, and… Boo Berry," he rolls his eyes at the ridiculous name. "Which one would you prefer?"
I giggle timidly at his expression, "Surprise me." I say as I walk to a small table in the corner of the kitchen.
He takes out two bowls from the cupboard and starts to pour Fruit loops- I think- into each of them. He then walks to the fridge and takes out the milk. I watch him move around the kitchen as he does so. So this man has a crush on the bitch troll and he can't or won't even admit it to me? And she fucking knows this too as if it's some kind of game. Ugh, at least they're not intimate. A thought crosses my mind- are they? No, I argue with myself that would be pedophilia. He just finds the bitch attractive which is enough to raise goose bumps.
I stare down at my knotted fingers in my lap contemplating with my inner bitch on what I'm going to do…
He places the bowl of cereal in front of me, and sits down beside me.
"When did you get up?" I ask curiously.
"Around 8:30. You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you up. Did you sleep well?" He cups the side I my face.
I blush, "Yeah," Show time, Ana. "But I kept having dreams…" I trail off.
"Dreams?" his head snaps up, "What dreams?" he demands.
"Well, Wesley was there," I feel him tense and his eyes burn into mine. I smile inwardly to myself- but stay pokerfaced, "What?" I look at him concerned.
"Wesley was in your dream?" he growls.
I roll my eyes, "Yes," I say sulkily, "But only for a moment. We were walking down a dark path, and it was cold. When I looked up at him…" I leave Christian hanging.
"What was he doing when you looked up at him?" he sounds mad. Well you know what Grey? You have some serious double standards! I become mad at the thought.
"He turned into Mrs. Lincoln and she was telling me to stay away from you." I hiss, taking a mouth full of cereal.
He just stares at me in shock, "I'm guessing you know that she was here?" he asks calmly.
"What?" I look at him- pretending to be confused, "what do you mean?"
He sighs- caught now, "Elena was here to check up on me this morning- instructions from my parents." He waits for my reaction.
"Oh." Is all I say, and continue with my breakfast.
He's still watching me- trying to read my face for my mood, "Are you mad?"
I shake my head, "No." I'm fucking pissed actually.
We finish up at about the same time. I gracefully stand and take both our bowls and put them in the sink. When I turn around he's behind me looking smolderingly sexy and sad.
"Please don't be mad." He cups my chin.
"I'm not," I say truthfully, I'm disappointed in My Christian…, "Do you want to go upstairs?"
His eyes brighten, "Yes…" he says as a huge grin spreads across his beautiful face.
Before I can respond he lifts me over his shoulder and is carrying me. I automatically protest. When we get to his bedroom he bends down and lays me flat on his bed. My breathing is harsh as I look up at him. He smiles and walks slowly to the closing it with his foot.
He climbs on top of me and our tongue and lips entwine together. We both breathe rapidly as his hand rubs all the way up to my breast and under my shirt. My fingers are curled in his hair pulling, pulling him closer to me.
"Do you want the blinds drawn, Ana?" he whispers.
"Yes," I answer equally breathless.
He gets stands up and strides to his window; he then closes it. The room is almost pitch black now, not much can be seen easily. I feel around for him.
"Christian!" I hiss.
I hear him chuckle not too far away from me, he then sits astride me and starts the process over again.
Knowing my plan I feel around for his belt loops and stick my fingers in on each side. It's now or never Ana. I twist so I'm now kneeling between his legs on the bed. I can basically hear his confusion, "Ana, what are you doing?"
"Can I reciprocate?" I ask with all seriousness.
"What for?" he asks still confused.
I don't answer; I unzip his pants and undo his top button before he can protest. I take him in my hands for the first time feeling his length through his boxer briefs- his erection, his enjoyment. I struggle slightly when I try to pull his jeans down further but he lifts his hips off the bed helping me- he's just as nervous as I am, I role down his boxers with shaky hands and a mission. I then take his soft skin in my one hand again; moving it up and down, worshiping him. He puts his hands in mine- around himself- and moves with me at a slower more leisure pace.
No, no, no… this is my time. I bend down and kiss his hands before I move them away from his self- my nose brushing against his length slightly. He removes his hands and- I think- puts them behind his head.
"So…" I say shakily, "Your all mine right now?" I whisper.
"Yes," he groans, "Do whatever you want, Baby. It's your decision."
I smile in the dark- all mine. I bend down again and kiss his tip. He stiffens and his hips come up to meet me, his breathing is becoming more forced as well.
I dip down again and start to suck, going harder and pushing him deeper into my mouth by each bob of my head. Yes, own him, Ana. Make him forget what the bitch trolls name even is. He's yours right now. My hands rest on his hips. He grabs my hands and holds them tightly – letting me rest on his palms alone. He tastes equiset I want more, and more. I wish I could see him unravel beneath me, I wish I could see his length that possess my mouth; judging by the feel he is definitely over average.
"God Ana!" he screams as he stiffens, writhing from his bed. He cums in my mouth, his warm arousal sliding down my throat and to my surprise I love it, I love this moment, I love this feeling I get from pleasuring him, I love him period.
He cries out my name as he cums again and again, seething joy emulating from his body- as is mine and I sit back smiling sincerely at him as he unravels. Oh Christian… My feelings for you will never change- please remember that- no matter what happens tomorrow. I beg to him in my mind. I love you matter what.
Ana, Mrs. Bitchy comes up and out of the shadows of my mind, Elena. She seethes as she reminds me, this is all a part of our plan- remember that. She growls at me.
I pull his boxers over him yet again, but I pull his jeans completely off to his floor. I slide up his body finding his mouth again, "My Christian…" I whisper.
But tomorrow it'll be a different story.
How many likes for the new Ana's new Inner Bitch? Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
