A/N: This chapter has been a long time in coming, pun so not intended. I can definitely say I was BLOWN AWAY by the response from the last chapter. You guys…I'm speechless. Thank you from the bottom of my little shipper/fangirl heart! For your awesome feedback (here's to hoping for a repeat performance). I do apologize for making you wait for the follow-up but I wanted things to be as close to perfect as I could get it.

WARNING: If you are on any kind of medication for any kind of heart or respiratory condition please pop a pill now. This is explicit and depending on one's view, kind of raunchy. If you in any way find that kind of content offensive, this chapter is not for you. To everyone else enjoy!

Disclaimer: These characters (Christian Grey belongs to EL James) are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.


When a man tells you that he wants you to cum on his dick, this can be taken in one of many ways, and it is also dependent on the man. If a man you have zero attraction to uttered those words, you would be inclined to take them as an insult and an attack on your sensibilities. If the culprit is your boss, he's bordering on sexual harassment territory. However, if those prolific words are spoken by someone's whose privates you would indeed like to cream on—now you're talking equal opportunity.

My case was sensitive to put things mildly. Christian Grey was my employer. He delegated orders and I followed them to the letter with very little deviation. If I refused—would he fire me? If I went along this very explicit path he just launched us on—would I just become another stereotypical statistic? I didn't want to make my mark by falling to my knees for this man. And though it went without saying Mr. Grey coveted his privacy like a recluse, people were apt in uncovering illicit affairs.

We could hide behind succinctly spoken words, avoidance of eye contact, never step a hair over the line of personal space, but someone somewhere would be able to look at us and go: "Oh yeah they're totally fucking."

And of course there was one person who could never ever find out. Not in this life and certainly not in the next.

I swallowed with some difficulty. Christian's hawk-like gaze never vacillated, nor did it have to because the message had been spoken frankly. He couldn't have gotten his point across more bluntly and I had expected nothing less from him anyways. Christian was straightforward. Sure he could be like a Renaissance courtier and praise someone with pretty words and flattery, yet at the end of the day he was a child of the modern era and didn't believe in sugarcoating anything. He didn't believe in wasting time.

He had made his move and now he was waiting on mine. Needless to say, I was stuck.

Honestly, I had never been in this situation before. Only one person had made his wants pointedly clear and I had been married to him for five years and dated him a whole bunch of years before then. So indeed I was about to have my casual sex cherry popped.

As much as this twentysomething witch wanted to take the plunge, I felt I had to be the reasonable one here. Don't get me wrong. I wanted to pounce on him so much that my fingers this whole time had been pressing into the wood of the door. I'm sure my cuticles were bleeding from the force alone. My breathing turned a bit shallow and every time I inhaled I smelled nothing but Christian.

He was sexing me down without touching me. It was all in the look in those lightning bright eyes. The look on his face was his customary mercurial.

"Does what I say come as that much of a shock?"

Hearing his voice did shock me back into the moment and out of my thoughts.

I shook my head. "I had no idea…Mr…Christian," I gulped lamely.

One eyebrow rose in skepticism. "None whatsoever?"

Okay, I had a tiny inkling of an idea. The long measured looks, the compliments, the closeness, the formality in calling one another by our first names. Christian did not have that kind of openness, if that's what you want to call it, with anyone else from what I had observed in being his assistant. He was all business all the damn time. Sure, he'd crack a charismatic smile, and hearing the sound of his laughter was like spotting a sloth running across a field—just didn't happen.

"Maybe a little of an idea," I remedied.

Christian took a single step forward and I felt his belt buckle lightly press into me an inch above my navel. His arms bent and his elbows were just centimeters from touching my shoulders.

He licked his lips. "I have dreamt of nothing but tasting, eating, sucking, fucking your pussy. And I know it's not right, but I can't seem to help myself. You don't know how many times and in how many ways I've tried to quench this insatiable need I have for you, Bonnie. One a day, three a week, all of them faceless, and none of them could get me to stop thinking about you."

My skin was so hot I was surprised it wasn't smoking. Unintentionally the lights flickered and caught Mr. Grey's attention for a millisecond but he was staring right back at me.

I needed to gain control of this before I outed myself, but it was hard because not even Damon talked to me like this and his mouth and mind could be disgustingly filthy at times.

"Mr. Grey…"

"Christian," he bit out.

I stared down at my feet needing to put some kind of space between us. "I'm your assistant…we can't go there."

He sighed more like hissed. "Don't you think I know that? That's all I think about, day in and day out. If you weren't who you are and I wasn't who I am…you'd be mine, no questions asked."

My head snapped up and my eyes may have narrowed slightly. I didn't mind some displays of alpha chauvinism, but I cut shit off the minute a man started to view me as property and not a human being with inalienable rights.

From the expression on my face it seemed that Christian knew he needed to cool it with the possessiveness. However, he was far from backing down.

"All I'm trying to say is that only a type of woman appeals to me…hate to say it but I'm high maintenance when it comes to female companions, but you…" his eyes trailed over my entire body before coming to rest on my face once more. "Excite me, challenge me, make me long for more than just sex."

"From what you told me all you want is just sex."

Mr. Grey shrugged. "I love the fuck out of sex, I won't lie about that. Yet I find myself wanting more than just that from you. I've questioned why."

Because I'm flawless, duh, I wanted to say but held my tongue.

"I'm the consummate professional," Christian went on to explain his plight, "no one knows anything about me no matter how far they try to dig. No one knows what I'm thinking until I say it, but with you, you understand a part of me no one knows exist."

Now it was my turn to arch an eyebrow. He completely lost me because most of the time I felt like I was learning as I went along with this man. Trial and error, more error than trial, so I had no idea what part of him I understood that others had remained clueless on.

I certainly didn't think he was referring to me anticipating his needs. I was trained to do that. So what exactly was my employer trying to get at?

"I don't want you on a platter," Christian tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and then traced the shape of it with his thumb. Oh, yeah I shivered from that small amount of contact.

"Then what do you want?"

Those eyes deepened until they looked like metal. "I want you to make me beg for it. And you have been. You just didn't know it."

My Kegel muscles contracted. Oh boy.

There were so many decisions for me to make and I honestly didn't think there was enough time to make them. This wasn't something I could jump in with both feet and think I'd come out of it unscathed. There were so many red flags lit it was like I was trying to land a plane.

To come on his penis or not to come on his penis, that was the question.

At the end of the day we couldn't do this. It wasn't right. It was highly unethical and unprofessional. He held the purse strings while I counted the beans. We where here in Copenhagen on a business trip, not to start an affair.

My flesh, however, was not in agreement with me.

He was tall and broad shouldered, had impeccable manners, expensive tastes, was a humanitarian, mysterious, a corporeal form of a male protagonist from a Harlequin romance series.

And he wanted me.

Take the plunge, Bonnie what do you stand to lose? Self-respect, my reputation, my livelihood. What would I gain? Experience, memories, a notch on my belt.

Christian sighed at my prolonged silence. "I know what I'm laying down is…its foolish."

He was talking sense again—good. "There's so much at risk, Christian. Not just with me but with you as well. I'm sorry but that's just a frying pan I don't want my butter to melt in."

He smiled a little at my southern idiom. "Are you only saying what you think is the right thing to say, but it's not really touching on what you feel?"

I drew my bottom lip into my mouth before releasing it. "What I feel is not important. It's who I am that is. The world we live in isn't perfect, but I would be the one cast out and called names if this became public. Mr. Grey you're an intelligent businessman. It goes without saying this would cause a lot of problems in the workplace. It could potentially hurt your empire."

Christian closed what space there was between us and I felt him. Wowzers! There wasn't a secret for him to hide. Granite—pure granite was biting into my hip and upper thigh.

"I think you're misunderstanding me, Miss Bennett…I'm not a teenaged boy that's never had pussy before. I don't let it consume nor control my life. My personal life is just that…personal and has very little effect on my professional one. Unless you're trying to say that your…"

I slapped a hand over his mouth. If he said the P word one more time I would have no choice but to maul him. Knowing that's exactly what he was aiming for, this ice I was treading on was melting faster than I could get to the other side.

Slowly, Mr. Grey curled his fingers around my wrist and pried my hand off his mouth but not without sneakily licking my palm.

A drop of moisture hit the seat of my panties. My common sense brain cells scattered for a moment before I chased them down and placed them back in my basket.

"I'll compromise with you then, Miss Bennett." Pause. "You're fired."

"What?" I squeaked.

"From this moment forward you aren't my assistant. You're no longer employed with Christian Gray Industries effective immediately."

"Okay, okay, hold up. Nope we're not doing this. I saw this in a movie once. You're not going to fire me every single time you feel a little randy and then re-hire me after busting a nut. I deserve better than that."

A chastened look sprang up on Mr. Grey's visage and he bowed his head a bit. Plan foiled. After a moment he was staring at me again.

"Then I don't know what else to do. I've already said enough to damage our working relationship. You're well within your right to sue the pants off me for sexual harassment. Everything is in your court, Miss Bennett."

In my court. The one with the ball was the one who dictated the rules and the moves of the other players. I didn't have to be a subject but could subject others to my will. With the ball being in my court that meant I could stall. Give myself more time to think rather than jumping off the diving board and landing in bed with him. Loopholes…always look for the loophole. Something came to me.

I could give us both what we wanted without having to fully compromise our working morale.

Grams would never approve of something like this, but then again she did use to hotwire her dad's Cadillac to go joyriding with her boyfriend who did a small stint in state prison for larceny. I guess I was just following in the wild streak of the Bennett women before me. No need to break or interrupt tradition now.

Touching Christian was not a foreign thing. My hand was quite familiar with his arm and bicep, but it didn't know the other parts of him like: his chest, his stomach, his longbow that made quite an impressive tent in the middle of his trousers. Emboldened, I lifted my hand and flicked one of the buttons on his shirt.

Surprise changed the color of his eyes and he held himself completely rigid unsure of what I planned to do next, or as if this was a sign I was giving in to wanton desires we both shared. Leisurely my hand traveled down the center of his chest and I could just make out the definition of muscles he took so much pride to show me the other day. A corner of my bottom lip became trapped between my teeth and I bit down hard enough to make myself bleed, but I held back once my finger bumped into his belt buckle.

Mr. Grey's head fell forward and touched mine like a kiss. "You're killing me," he groaned.

I said nothing but continued on with my journey, my fingers sliding over the soft fabric of his pants until bingo I had reached the motherland, and let me tell you she was vast and wide! The terrain was hard and I could even feel the heat of his pulsating prick through two barriers: his boxer briefs and pants. If he didn't go commando he was unquestionably a boxer briefs kind of guy.

It was my turn to gasp a little when Christian had worked a hand between the split in my dress. His fingers caressed my leg, moving upward with the same speed I used and then curved inward to brush against my lace covered mound.

We were like a pair of teenagers exploring one another and unconsciously I widened my legs allowing him better access to slide his fingers down my wet slit.

He did and I moaned and took greedy possession of his cock where Mr. Grey let out another groan, this one more growl than groan, but deep and guttural enough to make my nipples hard.

I counted in my head and tensed when Christian slid his fingers past the elastic lining of my panties and really touched me. His fingers explored my weeping flesh, stroking my outer labia before pushing his finger inward to fondle my pink part.

"You're so wet."

"It happens when I'm excited," I smiled a little. Then an inhuman sound broke through my lips the second Christian began to work his fingers back and forth, toying with my clit before teasingly circling my hole. His lips latched on to my neck, sucking the skin right behind my earlobe. Oh, gawd how did he know that was my spot!

The fingernails of my free hand rose up and bit into his shoulder.

"I want it, Bonnie," my seducer confessed. "I want you."

I couldn't speak at first. Too lost in the sensation and nearly hit a high C note when Christian penetrated me with his middle finger. I felt him slide in past the knuckle and deeper still that finger traveled. My body went a little limp but he held me upright breathing harshly against my neck. One pump, then two, another, and then he swirled his finger around. I was going to come if he kept this up.

With a lot of effort, I grabbed Mr. Grey's hand and pulled it away from my dripping center. He jerked back and frowned at me.

"What…?" he asked and then stuck his wet fingers in his mouth and greedily licked them.

Christian looked feral suddenly. My heart dropped to my stomach.

Throat exceedingly dry and my ovaries demanding to explode, I pushed it all aside because I had to say this. Time passed, no words were exchanged between us which heightened the extrasensory synapses in our brains. Color blotted his cheeks, his lips were redder than usual, and I'm sure I looked just as flush as he did.

Moistening my lips with my tongue, I stared at my boss unflinchingly. "I want you to go in your bedroom, undress, turn off the lights, get into bed, and I want you to think about my pussy until you come." Pause. "But you're not allowed to touch yourself."

The expression that befell Christian's face was comical. Incredulity mixed with befuddlement, with a splash of disappointment, yet a pinch of excitement morphed his preternaturally handsome features into that of a man ready to accept the challenge, one I'm sure no one had ever issued before. If I was going to set a precedent best believe it was going to be the precedent of all plot twists and monkey wrenches. He wanted me to make him beg for it, well here you go, slave. Beg.

Continuing, I said, "I want you to write down what you thought about, how you came and be as detailed and as explicit as you like. I want it handwritten, no mistakes or typos, and submit it to me in the morning for my approval. If I like it, tomorrow night you may touch yourself. Do you understand, Mr. Grey?"

A cold veil encroached on his face and I thought perhaps I may have overstepped my boundaries just a tad bit. But I wasn't going to back down from this. If he wanted me it would have to be on my terms.

"Do you understand, Mr. Grey?" I repeated my question with the full force of the witch goddess in me behind it.

"Yes, I understand, Ms. Bennett." The muscle in his jaw flexed repeatedly.

Blindly, I reached for the door handle and pulled down the lever until it opened. "Good. I'll see you in the morning."

Slipping out of the room, I finally took a much needed breath and had gotten to the elevator before I heard my name being called. I turned around and saw my boss hanging out the door of his suite, that cold veil still in place.

"Thank you, Bonnie."

I didn't say "You're welcome", merely inclined my head and got on the lift.

I collapsed against the wall. Adrenaline made my limbs shake and I breathed through my nose and mouth. Good Lord, what was I getting myself involved in? All I needed was a pair of thigh high pleather boots and a whip and just call me Mistress Bonnie.

Was that what he wanted? A dominatrix? I didn't know but I knew one thing as I got ready for bed. Morning couldn't get here fast enough.


The Duchess was playing in the background as I meticulously put on my make up. I had a fitful night of sleep, my dreams volleying between rolling around in a five-star hotel bed with a copper-haired man with ridiculous slat-gray eyes, versus being thrust into up against a wall by a vampire as pale as the moon with blue eyes that burned like fire.

Sitting in only a bra and pencil skirt, something slid underneath the crack of the door drawing my attention. I frowned and then I remembered the request I made last night before leaving Christian's room.

He had done it. He had written down how he got himself off without touching himself. Immediately jumping to my feet, I flew across the room and picked up the envelope that simply had my first name written across the top in elegant script.

I don't need to tell you that I was having a slight panic attack. Did I want to read this now or later? If I read the contents right this second it went without saying they would be in my head all day and I wouldn't be able to get a lick of work done. Lick. Shiver. Shimmy. Would Mr. Grey be expecting me give my critique of his fantasy while we're seated in the backseat of the car pretending Taylor wasn't listening? No, Mr. Grey was much too discreet to even think of talking about something like this even with his shadow present.

No, this needed to be postponed. I would make him wait. If he asked, I would say that I had too much on my plate than to give his "thesis" a single thought. I'm sure he would love that.

I finished dressing and joined Christian in his room. He was on the phone giving out instructions on a medical and food drop to take place in Darfur. He didn't spare me a single glance which was just fine as I settled on the other vacant couch across from him and proceeded to handle my end of the business, mainly the accounting. Totaling the receipts and keeping a detailed record of every single dime being spent by the second.

Breakfast was waiting like I had hoped since I placed the order with room service the night before so that it would be available as soon as Mr. Grey peeled open his eyes. From what I could see he hadn't touched a single thing. I quickly glanced at him. His head was still down as he flipped through pages of some dossier, pen in hand. Christian was already dressed but the top three buttons of his shirt were undone, and his tie hung around his neck waiting to be tied. He was wearing Versace cologne today and I had to say I liked the scent. It suited him as did everything he chose.

"Get back to me with those figures and make sure the drop arrives at the scheduled time." Like always Christian ended the call without a single salutation or word of thanks.

Inwardly I shook my head and wondered if his mother would be proud of the way he decided to conduct business.

Mr. Grey placed his phone on the coffee table and then snapped his eyes towards me. He seemed a little surprised to see me sitting in his room. I had a key so I could come and go as pleased and when needed, and knowing he was an early riser I didn't think much of it to show up here without checking to make sure he was up.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey."

"Good morning, Miss Bennett. I trust you slept well."

Not at all. Stuffing sheets between your legs was a poor substitute for a dick. "Yes, I did," I replied. This would have been my chance to ask how did he sleep, but from the slight discoloration marks under his eyes it was proof enough he didn't get much sleep either.

The tension between us that seemed to start the night I attended the auction had become thicker, heavier. It was a physical presence I could almost see. I gulped nervously and looked away because of the intensity of Christian's eyes. He was about to open his mouth when a knock sounded on the door.

"Who is it?" Mr. Grey bellowed loud enough to be heard.

"Taylor, sir. There's been an incident."

Mr. Grey was up and out of his seat and stood before the door by the time I turned around to stare at the door. Taylor began filling Mr. Grey in on whatever happened and since they were whispering I couldn't make heads or tails of what was being said. A minute later, Mr. Grey closed the door and then began tying his tie and buttoning his shirt at the same time.

"Is…everything okay, sir?"

Curtly Mr. Grey shook his copper head. He looked pissed off as he jammed his arms into the holes of his jacket.

"A mishap has taken place at the lab. I need to go and assess the damage."

I got to my feet determined to have at least one of my questions answered. "Mr. Grey..." he continued to ignore me. "Christian?" he finally looked at me as if to will me to hurry the hell up to say what I needed to say so he could leave. "Can you tell me what's going on with this lab? You've mentioned it several times and I did a little background check on Dr. Gao and all I was able to find was that he's one of the leading pioneers in hematology. A source told me that CGI is looking into cloned blood…why?"

Mr. Grey approached me then and I saw a brief flash of resignation in his eyes. "I'm legally bound to keep this confidential, Bonnie. I can't tell you what's going, but know it's nothing illegal and what's taking place will help improve the lives of nearly everyone on the planet. That's all I can say. I have to go. Consider this your official day off."

Great, I thought as Christian slipped through the door ditching me once again. Since I had nothing to do other than menial assignments that would take no time at all to finish, I waltzed over to the dining room table and helped myself to some bacon. Oh, Mr. Grey wouldn't tell me anything, but I'd get answers soon enough.

In the meantime I had an essay to read.

When I made it back to my room, I called Urian and set up a time and place for us to meet since he claimed to have information on what was really going on at this conference. Once that was done, I picked up the envelope and then settled on the small couch in the sitting room next to the window.

No more stalling.

XXXXXX

A thousand different scenarios must have flashed through my mind before the right one finally popped up. And it's not something overly lavish or overtly disgusting like you'd see in a hardcore porno. Simple can be more sometimes and it's best to start off slow.

We're at my high-rise condo. It's been a long taxing day and all I want is a drink and you spread across my lap rocking those tantalizing hips back and forth, grinding your pussy on me, but anticipation could be more fulfilling than actually doing the act.

Because you've always been good at anticipating my needs without me having to ask, you approach, stand beside me with a glass quarter filled with my ninety year old scotch. There's a teasing smile on your lips painted an obscene shade of red, but your eyes are checking out the view. You can almost see the whole of the city from where we're standing. I wait for you to comment, but you don't and the absence of your voice makes me want to hear it directly in my ear breathy and moaning.

I take the glass and drown the contents without really tasting anything. You take the glass from me, then my hand, and pull me away from the floor-to-ceiling windows and gently push me down to the sofa. My eyes follow you as you flick your tongue around the rim of the glass, your eyes fixed on mine and already I feel like we're fucking. The palms of my hands burn, my groin stiffens, and I'm fully erect behind the zipper of my pants. My dick is jealous of a glass right at this moment. I'd love nothing more than your tongue to dance around my shaft, head, and balls, but I read in your eyes you're only interested in one thing.

Teasing me.

Your eyes drop knowingly to my crotch and again that infernal smile is on your face. Your face is so beautiful that I find myself inexplicably unable to look away. But I vaguely see you place the empty glass on a table and then move to the sofa across from mine.

I swallow as you slowly sit down and cross those legs one over the other, and then link your fingers and cup them over your knee. Your right foot housed in a six inch patent leather pump begins to swing back and forth like a pendulum, and we do nothing but stare at one another.

"Light a candle," you say in that soft, feminine voice.

I slide to the edge of the sofa where several decorative candles are and a box of matches. The flame ignites and I light the wick, and blow out the match.

You let out a nearly inaudible sigh and then reach up to undo the bun you've styled your hair in. Waves of chocolate curls tumble around your face and cover your shoulders. I lick my lips and watch as you unbutton your suit jacket and then trail a hand beginning from your jaw, down your neck, before your fingers bottleneck between the valley of your breasts. You run a hand over a mound, enticing the nipple to stiffen and it does and I can see it push against what I'm hoping is a lacy bra with no padding, and strain against the material of your white silk shirt. You twist your nipple between your thumb and forefinger and your head drops back as a rush of pure sexual pleasure ripples through you.

A drop of pre-cum drizzles from the head of my dick and I want to show you what you've done, but you look at me as if knowing what I'm about to do.

You wag a finger at me and sit back against the padded cushion of my white leather sofa. "I only want you to watch, Mr. Grey and when I tell you…then you can touch yourself. Do you understand?"

I nod my head like a compliant little boy and sit back as well.

You slouch a little in the seat and uncross your legs just enough for me to see between them. I'm licking my lips again tasting salty sweat that's beginning to coat my upper lip and my hair line. I'm hot and the air is on but I can hardly feel it because I want to fuck you too badly to notice anything else apart from you. My own nipples are erect and I'd love nothing more than to feel your pink tongue flicking against them, but again that will have to be for another time. The thought alone, though, is enough to make me groan and become violently erect—harder than I've ever been.

I watch as you run your fingers up those sculpted legs where I've been dying to know how they'd feel wrapped around my waist, upper back, and shoulders. You grab the hem of your black pencil skirt on both sides and slowly begin to lift it higher and higher until it's cinched around your waist.

Buttons slip out of holes in your shirt and my eyes feast on your mounds barely covered with French lace. Just as I suspected. The tops of your dark chocolate areolas are on display and my mouth drools even more.

"Do you like my tits?" you ask.

"Very much," I reply. "I want to see them."

"Not yet," you tell me sternly. Then to my pleasure you fondle your breasts through their lacy shroud, kneading them, pushing them high enough for you to lick one and then the other. You make them bounce, and then using only your index fingers you tease just the tips of your nipples.

I can't keep still. I'm fighting not to touch myself at this point.

You slip two fingers inside the cups of your bra and push them down freeing your mounds. Just as I imagine. Perfect quarter size areolas with half inch nipples. You squeeze, pull, twist them, and groan to the point I think you're coming just from tit play alone. This is better than porn, watching you get yourself off with only the barest kind of stimulation.

One hand falls away from your breast and trail down the center of your body before slipping into your panties. I can see your hand moving in a clockwise motion before going counterclockwise.

Your eyes which had fallen closed at some point are focused on me and I see you nod your head.

"Now you can touch yourself."

I eagerly unzip my pants, but like you I keep my privates covered and merely reach a hand inside my trousers and ghost my fingers over my rock hard dick. I want you to feel it because it's scorching and throbbing and I believe wholeheartedly my heart is in my cock because that's how badly it's pounding.

You work your panties half way down your thighs and the seat of them is covering up your pussy blocking it from view, but your right hand is still working you over while the left constantly plays with your nipple, alternating between each one.

Our heavy breathing is the only sound to be heard as I grab a fist full of my cock and began to stroke up and down and over the head and back to the base, repeating the process to match your pace.

You raise your legs and rest the stems of your stilettos on the edge of the sofa. I can see your ass and the bottom of your pussy and its sopping wet and the scent is more than succulent, and I'd like nothing more than to eat it.

"Not yet," you say as if reading my mind once again. Your knees are spread shoulder width apart now, panties still hiding the best part of you, and with the single candle burning to conceal what you're doing, it's light enough so I can see what you're doing.

I stroke myself with a little more determination when I see you penetrate yourself with a finger and work it in and out of your hole almost experimentally before withdrawing to circle your clit.

"I'm so wet, Christian. Don't you want to taste me?"

"Yes. Can I?"

"Can you what? You can do anything. That's not the right question to ask."

I realize my mistake. "May I taste you?"

Instead of granting me permission you simply lift the finger that you used to lightly fuck yourself and slip it into your own mouth and moan.

"Shit," I whisper and stroke myself just a little faster now.

"I want to see you."

I remove my cock from my pants and your entire face lights up. Not to brag but my name isn't the only thing to carry weight. My eight and a half inch dick salutes you proudly, corded in veins that I desperately want your tongue and fingers to trace each and every single one.

You slip your hand back to your mound and instead of using one finger you now use two and really being to pump.

"Come here, Christian."

I'm up and off the couch and kneeled at your feet in an instant.

"Lick my stiletto," you order.

I extend your right leg and glide my tongue down the stem, over the heel, but I don't stop there, I move my tongue along your leg, and flick it back and forth behind your knee. I reverse and go backwards, sliding the heel back into my mouth where I initiate fellatio.

Our eyes lock and your fingers are still entombed in your drenched twat. You're so wet you're dripping between your ass and staining the couch with your personal glaze.

Removing your fingers you trace the shape of my lips with your wet fingers, and I happily lick them clean. Your taste is on my tongue, your heady scent is in my nose, and I find myself just wanting to take a bath in you.

You sit up and grip me by the hair on the back of my neck, painfully arch my head backwards and kiss the fucking hell out of me. Our teeth clash, our tongues battle, while our lips play a ruthless game of domination and submission. And somewhere during all this you placed my hand on your pussy and my fingers sink into you over and over coaxing and pulling until your body tenses, jerks, and you spray my face with your immaculate juices.

I can't hold myself back any longer and follow suit, shooting my load into the carpet, resting my head against your thigh, and panting like I just won a race.

But fortunately, that was just the warm up.


Ho-ly…I think…I think I just came. There was definitely some contraction taking place deep within my womb, and my chest was heaving up and down as if I had sprinted a great distance. My hands were trembling and I'm sure my pupils were dilated to the max. If Christian ever wanted to walk away from running a Fortune 500 company and become an erotic novelist I would be first in every single line at a new book release.

He put another misconception I had to rest; that when it came to sex men couldn't be eloquent only raunchy. Though raunchiness had its purpose and uses during certain situations many women wanted to be seduced not treated like an animal in the bedroom. To think the man I slaved away for could have these kinds of thoughts about me not only made me see him in a new light, but it also terrified me.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?! My curiosity was off the freaking charts!

Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, face hot and burning, I nibbled my fingernail and tried not to re-read his homework assignment, you know just to check for grammatical errors. I had heard his voice the whole time in my head while I read, and pictured the both of us doing what he had written. Though it was a bit weird and discombobulating mentally visualizing myself masturbating in front of the man I worked for, those images were now permanently etched in my brain.

Crap, crap, crap.

I didn't know when Mr. Grey might return to the hotel. I had the rest of the day to myself and what business there was for me to take care of I had already handled. Whenever I felt this out of sorts about something there was that one person I turned to, my mainstay—Rebekah.

Quickly retrieving my phone, I dialed her up. If I couldn't reach her I'd call Caroline though I'd hate to get her involved in this because I knew how she was in relationships. Caroline shared everything with her significant other, and she would spill the beans to Stefan the first chance she got, and it went without saying that Stefan was the absolute last person I needed in my personal business. He could be just as bad at a tween with the latest piece of juicy gossip.

Rebekah's phone rang twice before she answered. "Well, if this isn't a pleasant surprise. How are you, darling?"

"In desperate straits. How are you? How are things going in Italy?"

"Dreadfully boring, but I'm to be released soon enough so I'm doing as you Yanks say…taking it one day at a time. I can hear your heart pounding, Bonnie. What's the problem now?"

I sighed and tried to get my thoughts together in a coherent timeline that would make it easy for Rebekah to follow and understand my predicament. However, my mind had other means to reveal the truth. "My boss wants to sleep with me."

"Again, I ask what's the problem?"

I literally pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it like a piece of unicorn poo. I returned it to my ear. "Bex…I think you're misunderstanding something."

"I'm not misunderstanding anything. I've met your boss, the handsome geek, and I'm surprised you've lasted this long without jumping his bones. I don't understand you career girls making such a big fuss about mixing business with pleasure."

"He's my boss!" I yelled indignantly.

"Bonnie, if you already made up your mind on not crossing a line you wouldn't have bothered calling me. It's only when you're uncertain about something is when you look to others for help. Oh, sure he's your boss and that can get hairy, but again if the both of you consent to some guidelines and rules I don't see what the problem is."

"The problem being that my reputation would be ruined if I not only engaged in a torrid affair with my employer, but it somehow became public knowledge. No one would take me seriously ever again."

"Then get a new job. I know it won't be too hard for you." Pause. "You're not freaking out because he's your boss. No, you're freaking out because if you sleep with him you'll feel like you're cheating on Damon."

The exasperation in her voice was staggering, but she may have been slightly on to something.

"He's the only lover I've ever had," I replied quietly.

"Which means you're long overdue for some new dick. My God, Bonnie this misplaced loyalty you have to that man is annoying."

I was beginning to get an attitude and defensive. "When you find, marry, and then divorce your fucking first love then you can lecture me about loyalty!"

There was silence on Rebekah's end and I immediately regretted coming at her like that. Despite being more beautiful than a catwalk full of models, Rebekah's love life could be used to pump out a year's worth of Lifetime movies. Falling for men who used her for her money, or used her because they wanted to be turned into vampires, or used her to make another woman jealous, she had not been as lucky as others in the love department.

"Rebekah…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I was wrong."

"No, you're right. I've never been in love with someone who loved me as passionately as I loved them and you had that with Damon. I know divorcing him was difficult and that you still love him, so I understand, Bonnie how hard it is to let go of the past and move on."

I sighed. "Damon and I reached a plateau in our relationship…"

"If there was a way, he blatantly told you why he didn't want to become human again because of all the enemies he racked up, and you were never going to become a vampire because that meant you'd cease to be a witch."

"We couldn't agree on anything so being married to someone I couldn't move forward with was counterproductive to what I wanted my future to be. I wanted out before we began to resent each another. He gave me my freedom, and I've been trying not to look back in regret ever since. I'm sure some might think our reason for divorcing was stupid and could have been worked out…"

"They were your reasons and you know what's best for you, Bonnie. Let me ask you this. If Christian Grey wanted an actual relationship with you and not just sex, would you be more open to the idea?"

I mulled over Rebekah's question for a moment before responding. "Maybe. I'm not scared to move on," I clarified, "I'm not afraid of having my heart broken or being disappointed, I guess I'm more so afraid of hurting Damon. I would feel better if I knew he was out there seeing other people."

"You want him to?"

"That's what I've repeatedly told him."

"That's a yes or no response question, Bonnie."

I sighed once more. "Yes…I want Damon to…see other people."

Rebekah let out a girlish chuckle. "No, you don't. You're just trying to be politically correct about the situation. I have a cousin here who was turned vindictively by Kol ten years after we were made, and she's coming back to the States with me. Shall I introduce her to Damon?"

Ugh, I couldn't exactly say no, now could I? "If you think they'd hit it off."

"She's a great girl and so ridiculously sweet and beautiful…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I cut off Rebekah listing her cousin's credentials. I'm sure she was all that and a bag of chips, Big Gulp, and a pack of Laffy Taffy.

"Just remember this, Bonnie…you have no more control over what Damon does in his life than he does over yours. You can't keep putting your life on hold because you're afraid of hurting him by moving on. At some point one of you is going to have to decide to walk away—for good, and stay away. Now let me go. I'm meeting my family in hour for another round of talks and discussions I could really care less about. I'll see you in a week or so, love."

"All right. Take care and tell Elijah he still owes me a lasagna."

Rebekah laughed, "Will do."

"And Bex?"

"Yes?"

"I am sorry for what I said to you. I was out of line."

"It's forgiven and forgotten. I've been rather salty with you lately so consider your bitch moment a freebie."

We laughed and then ended up staying on the phone for an additional ten minutes talking about fashion. I always questioned why it took women forever to end a phone call.

By the time our phone conversation ended I received an email from my boss. He was back and had requested a private dinner and meeting in his room in one hour.

I gulped and was overwrought with anxiety, Mr. Grey's fantasy slamming into me full force. Pushing that aside there was still information I needed that he was going to give to me.


Finding what I needed in a city that had some magic didn't take as long as I thought it would. Candles could be purchased nearly everywhere, but when it came to certain herbs, well there weren't any good apothecaries around, but there were greenhouses and country estates where a person was welcomed to the local vegetation for a small price.

I unloaded my purchases and then arranged the seven non-scented candles in a circle lighting each one with a single thought. I mixed the herbs together while chanting an incantation as I did so. I added a small dab of witch hazel, water, salt, and flecks of marigold. When I had the chance I would sprinkle of the dust concoction on Mr. Grey's food and then start my interrogation.

Hopefully we'd actually eat and not do anything else.

I selected my outfit with care. Wearing a suit was out, but I did bring a tastefully chic white tunic dress with black beading around the neckline that I would pair with black pumps that had a silver bottom.

Checking myself out in the mirror after I showered, I carefully placed on my underwear compliments of La Perla, and slipped my feet in my pumps. I blotted my cranberry hue lips, and sprayed myself with perfume. My hair I decided to leave it pin straight with a section covering my left eye. Slipped my earrings in and forewent wearing my watch. Placing the herbs in a small baggie, don't ask where I got a baggie from, along with my ID, room keycard, lip gloss, and maybe a condom or two, I stored all of it in my clutch.

I was still on the fence about what to do with Christian, exactly, but I did know what my role was.

A man like Christian was used to calling the shots, being in control, making all of the decisions, being omnipotent and omniscient, but he was not a god but a man and there were rules and order, and yes authority even he had to bow down to.

Consent.

He had to have my consent, my willingness to participate before anything could move forward. Oh, I expected him to rebel because all the rebellious ones did, but then again he might surprise me. Christian was a great thinker like Socrates or Ovid, but inside of him was a man with no master who fought like a gladiator to get what he wanted.

He wanted me. But he also wanted me to make him work for it.

Leaving my suite, I took the elevator up to his floor with only five minutes to spare. I knocked once before inserting the spare key into the slot and pushed the door open as soon as the little green light illuminated.

I stumbled to a stop when I realized the suite was only laminated by candlelight. The table where we shared our meals had been moved to the center of the living room, the couches pushed out of the way.

Mr. Grey stepped out of his dark bedroom in a button down tucked into his black trousers with the sleeves rolled to the elbow, collar unbuttoned. His reddish-golden hair was tousled and finger combed to messy perfection, and those icicle eyes roamed over my body with his gotdamn bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

Oh, boy the sexual tension was choking me.

Knowing I couldn't remain by the door all day, I picked up my feet and crossed over the enormous living room and stood on the far side of the table. I sat my purse down and simply locked gazes with him.

It was hard to believe this man got off without touching himself just by thinking about me. I gulped down the tree stump that suddenly lodged itself in my throat.

"How was your day, Sir?"

"Eventful but uneventful at the same time. What did you do all day while I was gone? Reading something interesting, I hope."

My cheeks burned. Mr. Grey strolled a little closer and pulled out my seat but I didn't sit down.

"I read something that definitely opened my eyes," I said and observed as Christian's nostrils flared.

"Did it do anything else?" his tone was buoyant.

I nodded. I pivoted a little to face him head on and rested a knee on the chair and leaned forward until our noses were almost touching.

"I came."

"Fuck, Bonnie."

The chair between us went flying across the room. He grabbed me and the next thing I knew my back hit something and his lips were on mine. Greedy, soft, impressionable lips devoured mine hungrily and without inhibition. I opened my mouth wide enough for Christian to snake his tongue inside and when he did I tasted him and mint and even the faint hint of scotch. His mouth was warm, so warm that it was shocking because the last time I kissed a human I was seventeen.

His hands, Mr. Grey's big and powerful hands smoothed up my legs and pried them open more so he could comfortably wedge himself between my thighs. His chest was hard and muscular yet also malleable as it crushed and molded to mine flattening my breasts.

I wrapped my legs around his lower back and felt that noticeable bulge poking me centimeters above my throbbing mound.

Air, we needed air to breathe but the exchange of kisses continued until all traces of my lipstick were gone and my lips were puffy as if they had been stung by bees.

Blood rushed to my head and then to my fingers and toes before heading to that bundle of nerves that was weeping for stimulation of the oral kind.

But we needed to slow down and that thought only came to me when Christian began to yank my dress up while searching fruitlessly for the zipper of his pants.

I managed to snake a leg between us and pushed him away with my foot. Mr. Grey stumbled backwards and it was there I realized he had carried me over and placed me down on the coffee table.

Confusion, anger, and lust burned through his retina. "What's the matter?"

"You told me to make you work for it," I reminded him.

Mr. Grey still looked ready to demolish something with his bare hands but then a lopsided grin appeared on his face.

I crooked my finger at him granting him permission to approach. He did adding a bit more swagger to his walk.

"Kiss my leg," I instructed and held the right one aloft in the air. Mr. Grey followed my orders and placed butterfly, open-mouth kisses against my freshly waved leg. His lips were impossibly soft and sent tendrils of unrelenting sensation through me. "Run your fingers along my skin and when you reach my ass, I want you to squeeze it."

He did and panted a little as his touch induced sparks within me. When he got to my ass he not only squeezed, he kneaded the cheek and gave it a firm pat before squeezing it again.

"Slowly place my foot on the floor and help me up."

In one smooth motion I was on my feet standing toe-to-toe with my boss.

"Take me into your room," I said.

Christian was breathing much deeper now and so was I. "Are we doing this, Bonnie? We don't have to do…"

"Shush," I placed my finger over his lips. "What happens in Copenhagen will stay in Copenhagen."

Mr. Grey looked ready to argue.

"We're going to go in there and play out your fantasy. Are you ready, Mr. Grey?"

He vigorously nodded his head and I dipped my eyes to check out the heat he was packing. Yum. He certainly didn't lie about that.

Taking my boss by the hand I led him inside his room.

His lips attacked my neck and shoulder, hands going around my waist. "There's something I want to do, Bonnie."

"What?"

Before Christian replied he ground himself between my cheeks and I stuck my ass out just a little more. I hissed.

"How do you feel about handcuffs?"

Chapter end.

A/N: Verdict? Is it really about to go down? Bonnie has stepped a pinky toe over the edge. If she allows things to go all the way over the edge what will the repercussions be? What did you think about Bonnie and Rebekah's conversation pertaining to Christian and the reason Bamon divorced? I can't wait to read your thoughts. Thank you guys so much for reading and if you loved this or even remotely liked this, please don't be shy. Let a sistah know. Until next time, love you guys!