CHAPTER 12 – TRUTHS AND HONESTY, PART II

For once there is nothing up my sleeve
Just some scars from a life that used to trouble me
I used to run at first sight of the sun
Now I lay here waiting for you to wake up

For everyone, I'm out to prove wrong, you keep the light on
The only one, you know me better than the truth
So, despite what I've done, I pray to God that we can move on
'Cause thus far you are the best thing that this life has yet to lose

-Sight of the Sun (Fun.)-

(APOV)

Clutching the letter between shaky fingers, I tremble with curiosity, anxious to hear his written voice play in my head. His beautifully scripted handwriting flows effortlessly on the page, and I try to calm myself down so I can start. Inhaling slowly, I begin to read.

Dear Ana,

Let me start by saying how terribly sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you the way I did. And now, I just don't know how or what to do to make things right. I'm so sorry.

I know I can't just make this right with a few words written on a piece of paper. Truthfully, I'm scared to even see you, knowing I'll chicken out and you'll never hear the words I want to say to you. You terrify me and I'm completely out of my depth when it comes to you. But you deserve an explanation. You deserve answers.

I don't expect anything in return from you, just that you hear me out. I want you to know that despite my actions and words (or lack thereof) you were not just a one-night stand for me. You will never be just another girl. And I will never be satisfied with only one night with you. I'll never get enough of you.

What we shared was beyond rhyme or reason for two strangers to feel what we did. What we shared, it's what lovers who have been together their entire lives feel. What people can only dream about, sing about, write about, yet never be so lucky as to ever experience its perfection. It transcends all logic, all reason, all sense. I don't understand it, how easily you have come into my life and transformed my entire world, but it doesn't matter. In all honesty, I don't care. I don't care why the stars aligned that night we first met, but I thank every higher power that they did. Yet, I've gone and messed it all up. Threw it away like it meant nothing to me. But nothing could be further from the truth.

I've never had to apologize before. I don't know how to be romantic or thoughtful or do any of that kind of stuff to express how I feel. So, I apologize if I've gone about this all wrong and you find my feeble attempt amiss. Knowing this, I didn't know what to do to get your attention or what kind of grand gesture would be appropriate to show what words fail me.

For that reason, all I could come up with were sending you flowers. I know its cliché and hardly original, almost insulting to you. You're unique and one-of-a-kind, which only made it harder. But I wanted to send you flowers, not just any kind, but ones that represent a part of you. I don't even know if you like flowers; however I hope you'll like these ones. Each one was handpicked by me, each with a meaning that made me think of you.

Firstly, I chose lilies because they embody innocence, beauty, and a purity of heart. Undeniably you are all these things; the pureness inside of you rare and precious, something I was blessed enough to receive.

The brightness and color of the gerbera daisies represent cheerfulness and joy, which you undoubtedly bring with the lilt of your giggle, and the sweetness of the smile that plays on your lips.

Sweet pea flowers denote pleasure and bliss, no two words that better summarize our first night together. From the way your lips felt upon mine, to the feeling of your arms holding me close, nothing could have been more heavenly.

Pink roses are symbolic of happiness, a sentiment I'm not overly familiar with, yet with you, it's all I feel. We barely know each other, nonetheless it's a feeling I'd like to return. I'd like the chance to be your happiness too.

And lastly, daffodils, which are emblematic of new beginnings. They signify the dawn of a new start, for us, if you're willing to try. With me.

Whatever you decide and take away from this letter, just know that I will hold close to me everything we've shared together. Never will I forget the softness in your voice, the benevolence in your eyes, or the first time I ever made love. You deserve someone who will cherish you, let you know how much you mean to them. I want to be that someone; show you just what you've come to mean to me. If I were to be so lucky, I just ask that you be patient with me; I'm going to get things wrong. I'm going to mess up spectacularly, and that's not something I'm used to. But if you can just walk with me, wait for me to find my ground and help me when I stumble, then I think we could be really great together. I know we would.

You completely beguile me; I'm utterly and hopelessly bewitched by you. Words escape me when I think about you. The fact is: I screwed up, and now am full of regrets. I want you to forgive me, to give me another chance, and let me be the one to hold you at night and tell you you're beautiful. I want us to get to know each other, learn things about one another and create new meanings together. However, I fully understand if what I've done has hurt you too much that forgiveness is no longer an option. I'm such a fool, and I certainly don't deserve someone as wonderful as you.

I don't know what else to say. Again, I apologize for my terrible way with words; I don't know how to say what I want to say to you. I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope…I hope that I'll get to see you again, Ana.

Whatever happens, I only want you to be happy. With or without me.

-Christian

Gut-wrenchingly, I wipe away the large wet blobs of tears dripping onto the quivering piece of paper in my hands. My eyes are blurry, and it takes me a few blinks before I can see again. When I do, I find myself looking into a striking display of beautiful blossoms, each bouquet impeccable in every way. I see each of the different flowers Christian himself picked out for me and I reverently slide my fingers over the petals, soft and silky, grown to perfection.

Words escape me, rendering me speechless as I gaze wondrously at this stunningly romantic declaration before me. How can he possibly think this isn't romantic or thoughtful? Willing myself to keep it together, a sob catches in my throat as I feel Kate's presence behind me. Like the best friend that she is, silently she wraps her arms around my waist, comforting me in a way that she knows matters to me. The shock and overwhelming feelings pulsing through me causes my heart to swell beyond my chest, from the poignant handwritten letter, to the intimately chosen flowers that now permeate the air with a lovely Spring aroma.

"Are you okay?" She asks softly, her head resting on my shoulder. I nod, unsure of how to respond. I've never felt this way before; a want and a need so powerful that I'm afraid I'll break. She doesn't ask who all of this is from, she already knows. Instead, she reaches over to a solitary gold card in one of the bouquets, looking to me for permission. I nod.

*Five bouquets, one for each minute we've known each other.
I'm an idiot. Please call me.
-Christian*

We laugh at the card, though mine comes out a garbled noise from my earlier emotions tangled with the new ones. Kate gives me a knowing look as she nods her head to the ornately wrapped gold box sitting on the corner of the kitchen island. Her eyes dance with excitement, contagious as I hurriedly go to open it. Pulling the twine and removing the lid, I'm surprised when I see a new phone and another tiny gold card waiting for me.

*Your phone is a travesty. It clearly does not work since you have not returned any of my calls. Hopefully this upgrade will keep you better in touch with the real world.
-The Real World, aka Christian Grey, or just Christian*

I grin at Kate as a smile threatens to split me in two. Swooning at the cards, playful Christian!, I'm in awe of the contrasting conundrum that is this complex man, from the light-hearted nature of his cards, to the candid and honest letter still clutched between my fingers. I realize this is him inviting me in; pulling me closer, no longer pushing me away. True to his word, he's letting me in, allowing me to see his many shades, each one as wonderful as the last.

Studying the phone in my palm, I hear Kate sigh in exasperation, shaking her head. "Call him!" She says with a sincere smirk, nudging me gently. "If this doesn't make you want to give the guy another chance, nothing will!"

My fingers stutter as they fly across the screen trying to figure out how to use it. Of course, I smile to myself as I find his number already saved and set-up as Speed-Dial 1. Hitting the call button, it rings once before I hear his smooth, sensual voice greet me.

"Ana." He breathes with relief. My entire body breathes with him, his single utterance a beacon of solace. The sound of his voice is enough to wash away the salty tears I've cried over the past few days, piecing me back together again.

"Hi Christian." I whisper bashfully. From the letter, to the flowers, to hearing him now, everything else in the world disappears. The clouds break, and a ray of sunshine floods my dreary little world, bringing me back to life. "Thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful. I just got them."

His voice is soft and tender, shy even. "You're welcome."

"But this phone…I can't keep it. It's too much." Though I clutch onto it as if it's him.

"You can and you will. If it means you'll talk to me, consider it yours."

"But Christian-"

"Ana, please just say thank you and be done with it." He admonishes lightly, and I smile.

Biting my lip, I nod my head. "Okay. Thank you." No sense in fighting this. Any of this.

A lull forms between us, but I find I don't mind it. Just knowing that he's on the other line makes me feel okay. More than okay.

Finally, I find enough courage to ask, "How are you? I read your letter…"

He's silent for a beat, before he confesses, "I've missed you. As soon as you left, I tried calling you. I left you messages…but I didn't know what else to do. I didn't think you'd want to see me." He sounds so sad. As sad as I feel. Is it possible?

"I've missed you too." I reply honestly.

"Can I see you? I'm downstairs…" He says wearily.

Running to the window, lo and behold, I see him leaning up against his black SUV. Dressed in a light-blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled-up and a grey suit-vest that matches his grey pants, I see a glimpse of skin from where the top few buttons are undone, and bite my lip from the sight of him. His aviator sunglasses are on, and his hair is lightly tousled from the wind making him look wild and sexy. As if he needed any help. Shamelessly, my breath catches as I stare at him, my body awake and eager for our reunion. Why again, was I ever mad at him?

"Y-yes." I stammer. And before he can say any more, I'm running down the stairs to greet him.

Bursting through the doors and into the brightly sunny day, I can't stop running until I find myself jumping into his arms. He easily catches me in his embrace, lifting me off my feet with a gentle squeeze, his chuckle loud and sweet against my ear. I melt in his grasp, the pain and sadness from the last few days rendered a distant memory.

"Oh Ana." He breathes, kissing the top of my head as he puts me back down. "God I've missed you." He kisses my forehead, my nose, my cheek, before lingering at my lips unsure whether or not it's okay to do so. Without hesitation I make the decision for him, leaning in closer sealing our lips in a meaningful caress. The familiarity of his kiss already profound and imbedded in me as I yearn for his touch, effortlessly deepening my hold on him. A measured growl pierces the silence around us, his grip tightening around me.

The music swells on our cinematic reunion as birds chirp, the sun shines, children laugh and choruses of heavenly sweet angels croon melodiously in the air. Up is up, down is down. All is right in the world.

Our kiss comes to a slow finish when he pulls away, tenderly placing a tiny kiss on the tip of my nose. My cheeks flush and glow as his beaming smile warms my entire body. His eyes swiftly change to mirth as he looks me over, his head shaking. "As sexy as you look in this, might I point out it's almost noon, I'd rather not have everyone on the street see you in your underwear."

"They're pajamas." I defend unable to hide my own smile.

"Whatever you say." He murmurs as his finger traces the hem of my indecently short boxers and I feel the heat redden my cheeks. I cross my arms over my chest already feeling my nipples stiffen as he stares at my breasts, a sexy smirk on his lips. "Come on, let's get you inside." He nods back to the apartment.

Once inside, Kate has gratefully cleared out and hidden herself away in her room. "Would you like anything to drink?" I offer as I pull on a nearby sweater off of the couch and zip it up half-way. "Coffee?" He nods his head as I start to make it, hands shaking, but frown when I realize I don't know how he likes it.

"One cream, one sugar." He speaks softly, coming up behind me to place a kiss on my shoulder. Turning my head to take in his comforting scent and the warmth of his frame, I kiss his lips shyly, my body screaming for more. He appeases me by returning my kiss, his hands decisively planted on my hips. His mouth is soft and firm; his kiss tender. My hands slowly find their way up his arms and around his neck, pulling him closer, holding him tighter. How can anything so new, so unfamiliar, feel so right?

Lifting me up, he places me on the counter, our kiss uninterrupted. It's as if the past few days didn't happen, him and I in perfect harmony. Seconds turn into minutes as I lose myself in this beautiful man. His arms wrap around my waist drawing me in, and I let out a moan as I feel his strong chest against mine. My nipples perk up in desire, pleasure singeing my body as I feel the heat of his. Alone in our private world, nothing more than skin on skin, lips on lips.

It's not until I hear the clacking of Kate's heels on the hardwood floor that I jump and Christian breaks the kiss, both of us grinning guiltily at each other. "Just going out for a bit." Kate calls as she continues through the living room, her own grin on her face. "No sex in the kitchen, I mean it. I eat there." And with that, she's out the door leaving me a daring shade of red.

"She'll never know." He winks playfully before resuming our kiss.

His coffee is long cold and forgotten when we finally pull away from each other, sated and content. My head is light and dizzy from his kisses, a permanent smile mirrored on our faces.

"Are you supposed to be somewhere today?"

"I have to stop by the office later."

"But it's Saturday." I pout.

He gives me a sad smile. "I haven't really put in a whole lot of hours this week. I have some things I need to catch up on."

"Oh…" I don't really know what to say to that. It saddens me and pleases me at the same time knowing he's been as miserable these past few days as I have. I don't think I'd be able to bear knowing he was just fine, while my entire world collapsed around me.

With a chaste kiss to his lips once more, I jump off the counter to heat up his coffee. As I wait, I nervously twist my fingers together. "Do you have time…to talk?"

I hold my breath as I wait for his answer, knowing I can't let his kisses detract me from the reason we're even here in the first place. If we're ever going to work, we need to talk. Up until a few minutes ago I was ready to say goodbye to him, but after reading his letter and seeing him here, I don't know what I want anymore. All thought and reason flits out of my grasp, and I feel a helplessness swoop over me.

He's just as nervous, nodding his head. "Yeah, I think we should talk."

I cringe once I realize this is the first time he's seeing my apartment. He looks so out of place in our half-unpacked apartment that screams college dorm room from the Ikea furniture to the obnoxious photo collages and pink frilly décor. I go to apologize for the mess, but he settles into the couch comfortably, his ankle crossing over his knee. He smiles warmly, patiently, and I take that as my cue to start.

"First, I just want to say thank you." I begin, words tumbling out quickly. "I've never…no one's ever…that was…" Huffing in frustration, I take a shaky breath to gather my thoughts. "The flowers are beautiful. But even more so were the words you wrote along with them. You are a very sweet man, Christian Grey." I whisper softly, placing my small hands in his. I'm rewarded by his boyish smile, that smile that wields a devilish power over my body. Concentrate, Steele! "I'd also like to give you my own apology. That day I left, I said some really horrible things to you. And I shouldn't have pushed you so much to talk about…you know. It's none of my business, and I'm sorry for being so childish. I'm so embarrassed.

"I just…I just don't know what came over me. One minute everything's perfect, the next it's not. I've been rejected my whole life, and I felt like you were doing the same when you pushed me away. It just really hurt, and I panicked." I shrug my shoulders, nervous for his reaction. "But was I the only one who felt something real between us? That wasn't just sex Christian."

"It wasn't." His strong hands wrap around mine before he plants a tender kiss in the palm of each. "And I feel it too." He whispers. I smile as I look down at our hands, too shy to look up at him. "And that's why I got so…so…freaked out. Ana…you've completely unarmed me. Before you, I led a very controlled life and that's how I like it. I like being in control…" He hesitates, and I think he has more to say, but then he stops. I wait, but he's unwilling to continue.

"I get it Christian, I do. The life you live, you need control. I don't know how you'd function without it. But…I don't see what that has to do with me. Are you afraid I'll…I'll what? I would never say anything to anyone about us; it's none of their business. And I would never use you for anything; I would hope you would know I'm not that kind of person." I'm irked that I have to defend my character to him. Is it possible that's what he thinks of me?

"Oh, Ana, no! That's not what I think at all!" He says firmly. His hair flops as he shakes his head adamantly, but I remain skeptical. He takes another long pause, before speaking again. "There's something I have to tell you about myself."

"Is it about the scars?"

He shakes his head. "No, something else. Though that's just as fucked-up a story. But once I tell you…you're going to want to run. You won't want anything to do with me, and it'll crush me. But I'll understand…because it's what you should do. I'm no good-"

"Stop saying that!" I shriek in annoyance. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that? I'm old enough to know what's good or not for me. I'm not a fucking child, Christian." I sneer the last part, my emotions no longer contained. How can he make me feel so out of control all the time? I can't keep my head on straight when he's around; I don't know if I want to slap him or kiss him half the time.

He remains aloof at my outburst, having expected it. "I know you're not a child." He placates, his fingers tracing over the lines on my palms. Taking a nervous breath, he breathes slowly out his nose. "I'm just going to fucking say it, okay?" His voice rises, trying to convince himself, more so than me. I nod my head, and wait.

And wait.

"Christian…" I prod gently after a few minutes of silence. "Whatever it is-"

"I'm a Dominant, Ana." He blurts out, no longer touching me. I stare at him in confusion as he backs away from me, creating distance between us. That's what he's afraid to tell me? I try not to laugh.

"Christian, no offence, but I already know you're domineering. It's quite obvious-"

"No Ana. A Dominant, not domineering."

"I don't understand." I watch as he rakes his fingers through his hair, fingers shaking. God he's nervous.

"Do you know anything about BDSM?" He utters at my blank expression. BD-what? "It's an alternative lifestyle…a sexual lifestyle."

Oh.

"As a Dominant, I have women, contracted submissives."

"Hookers?" I ask indignantly. He has sex with hookers?

"No, no." He shakes his head. "God how do I explain this?" He curses, shoulders tense.

"Just talk." I say gently. We're finally getting somewhere and I don't want him to stop now. Even as my insides are screaming, What. The. Fuck.

"These women, subs, we have an arrangement to fulfill sexual desires of pain and pleasure. They sign non-disclosure agreements and a contract. There are limits from both parties – things we're willing and not willing to do. The whole premise of the agreement is to push boundaries of pain and pleasure."

Fuck.

I try to find my bearings as I try to process all of this information. Yet all I hear is pain pain pain and I understand why he kept trying to push me away. I thought his big secret was about his scars, but apparently not. Apparently he likes to have painful sex with contracted women. Where does one find these women?

"So…these women. They want to be hurt?"

He nods his head.

"And you hurt them?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"It's not…I don't…it's not to hurt hurt them. I mean, it's not done with malice or violence. It's about pain and pleasure – the two are intertwined."

My mouth gapes as I try to process this. Now I understand why he was so afraid to tell me, but if I'm being honest, it doesn't seem as bad as he's making it out to be. These women…they want that, so…oh god I don't know what I am saying! Am I supposed to be one of these women? Does he want to hurt me?

"I'm not explaining myself very well." He grumbles in frustration. "I've never had to explain this before."

"You're doing fine." I reply quietly. Gathering my wits around me, I ask, "How exactly do these relationships work? What do you do? Where do you find these women?"

The shock on his face is telling; he wasn't expecting me to ask questions. His assumption that I would immediately ask him to leave irks me; if I'm being honest, I'm less scared, and more curious if anything. Confused, but curious.

He proceeds to further explain his lifestyle to me: special agencies that cater to the BDSM lifestyle. Complete discretion. Complete control over the other. Pushing limits. Pain to achieve pleasure. Safe words. Restraints and toys. Scenes. His playroom.

I feel myself pale as words continue to fall from his lips. My brain is overloaded with information and words I've never heard before. It's overwhelming, but I find myself asking in a tiny voice, afraid of his answer, "Do you want me to be a sub?"

"What? No!" He replies adamantly. "God no!" He closes the gap between us, needing physical reassurance for…him? Me? Both of us? "That's just it though…I've never known anything but that lifestyle. That night when you asked me to make love to you…I didn't know what to do."

I blush crimson at the memory of just how skilled he was in making my body sing for him. "You didn't seem like you didn't know what you were doing." The corners of his mouth slightly twitch upwards, and I can't help but smile myself. There's no denying the chemistry and heat we share when we're together.

"So…where do we go from here? You're a Dominant, and I'm not. And I don't think I could be a submissive…the idea scares me and I just don't think that I could be one." I lament sadly. Why did this have to be his big secret? And there's the impasse – the crux that he's known all along. We live two completely different lifestyles, neither of us knowing how to be a part of the other's.

"I know." He shakes his head, but actually smiles. "Plus, you could never be a sub."

"You don't know that." I say peevishly. Irrationally, I feel offended; piqued that he would say that.

"That." He smirks, and I can't help hide my confusion. "Submissives are submissive; they are obedient, compliant, trained to give up control. You, Anastasia, are anything but submissive." He actually has the gall to chuckle, adding to my indignation. What is the matter with me? "Easy there tiger, that's exactly what I mean. You're fiery, bold, witty, independent, and that smart-mouth of yours would get you into a lot of trouble if you were a sub. All those things are what I like about you, it's not meant to insult you." I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, not yet convinced. "Ana, would you ever let me tell you what to do without questioning it? Would you ever do exactly what I tell you to do? Control everything about you?"

I take a minute to contemplate his words. It would only be in the bedroom, or playroom, right? He couldn't possibly control everything about me, could he? It would almost be like a game, a sex-game. How bad could it really be? It almost sounds fun, but he seems so serious about it. And suddenly it feels like a challenge calling my name. My stubborn name. Trying my hardest to keep my voice under control, I allow my gaze to find his, undeterred by his smouldering grey eyes imploring me.

"What if I try?"

(CPOV)

I gape at her as the words try to settle in my head.

What if I try?

Why does she feel the need to constantly shock me? It's frustrating and sexy in the most complicated way. She's watching me with those blue eyes, beseeching me to cave. She must know the power she already wields over me. I've just told her I like to control women…and here, the most defiant girl I've ever met wants me to control her?

"Ana, I don't think you understand." I start, because she can't possibly be agreeing to be my sub. I don't want her to be my sub. But I also don't know what else there is for us.

"Then make me understand." She scoots closer on the couch until she's resting in my lap. She toys with the collar of my shirt, her eyes big and longing. "What would I have to do? I want to be with you. Isn't that what you want? Your letter, the flowers. Don't you want to be with me?" Her voice is light and buttery, saying words I want to hear. Having her close to me impedes my judgement and all I can think about is tying her up and fucking her hard. Her soft wet body wrapped around mine, calling out my name over and over again. In one swift move, I could have her clothes off and legs spread before me, begging me to fuck her.

"Ana, you're mistaken."

"I'm not mistaken!"

"Maybe you should research it some more. I don't think I did a good job in explaining it. I don't want you agreeing to anything; there's nothing to agree to. But maybe once you've gotten a better understanding of it…then we can talk some more. Tonight, if you'd like." Playing with the hem of her shirt, I can't believe how confused and utterly overwhelmed I feel. Why would she say that?

What if she agrees? What if she doesn't?

"Okay." Her sweet voice sings, before she gently kisses my lips as if it's a done deal. She's smiling at me as if this conversation never happened.

"Okay?"

She nods her head. "I'll think it over, and then we can talk." The airiness in her voice unsettles me; it's like she just agreed to go for a walk in the park, not to become someone's submissive. "Do you need to go to work?" She asks, her small arms draped over my shoulders and I realize that I do.

"Tonight then." I sigh, wrapping my arms around her and giving her one last squeeze. Planting a slow, searing kiss on her pouty lips, I savor the taste of her mouth on mine before lifting her off my lap. This could be the last chance I have at this, at her, and I want that kiss to burn through her, body and soul. After she truly gets an idea for what kind of messed up shit I'm into, no doubt she'll run. Again. And I'll have lost her. Again.

Fuck.

As she pulls away, her blue eyes are dark and wild. She has on her secret smile, the one that tells me she is up to no good. I wonder devilishly if that sexy little vixen from the other night wants to come out and play. She looks like she wants to devour me, and I want her to. It's that same look she had in the tub, and I feel my dick twitch at the memory.

She notices.

Before I can stop her, fuck she moves fast, she's sliding off my lap and she's down on her knees pulling open my slacks. Her tiny hand reaches in and pulls out my dick, hard as can be. She eyes it mischievously.

"Ana don't…" I say lamely, but I already know neither of us will be able to stop it. She feels so good and looks so determined. It's sexy as hell as I watch her stroke me in fascination.

Her hand glides up and down my dick a few times testing its weight and size, before she opens that sexy little mouth of hers and wraps her lips around me. She feels so soft and warm; I groan as she begins to suck, her tongue tracing the path of throbbing veins. Her mouth is an expert at pleasing me, and I lean back, completely at her mercy. I can no longer think about how bad this is – I cannot lead her into my darkness – but she feels so fucking good that the selfish bastard in me tells me to shut the fuck up and enjoy this beautiful girl. Commit to memory everything about her, about this moment. And I do.

I run my fingers through her silky hair, pulling her closer. My balls tighten and my cock slides further into her mouth, deeper down her throat. Shit, she can go deep. Her lips find my balls and I mewl at the wetness of her mouth. She's working harder now: sucking, licking, teeth grazing, and I grip her shoulders tightly unable to decide if I want to push her away or pull her closer. I still find it hard to believe she's never done this before – she's too damn good at it. Her head bobs up and down; slurping noises escaping the suction she has around me. I don't have time to think as I feel that sudden rush of blinding light sneak up behind me and my entire body spasms and jerks, cum filling her sweet little mouth. She greedily licks me clean – fuck, she's naughty – and smiles approvingly as if she's just accomplished some great feat. Looking up at me cunningly, her tongue traces her now swollen lips, eyes alight. I haven't cum that quickly in years, and I'm equally impressed as I am embarrassed.

"Have a good day at work." She purrs as she stands up and heads to her room, leaving me there with my dick out and mouth open.

Fuck. Who's in control now?

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! Reviews are greatly appreciated! I have never taken a botany class or claim to be a flower expert. Please ignore any glaring discrepancies in flower meanings :)