I am so sorry for not posting sooner. I really hate it when life gets in the way of writing. As always, thank you so much for the kind reviews! It means so much to me! Had some requests for romance so, this chapter is my response. Please review and let me know how I did.

Chapter 14: Romance, Sex & Laughter

Ana's POV

I hate shopping. And shopping with Caroline Acton was an education. By the time we finished, my head was swimming with all the designer names – Versace, Dior, Marc Jacobs, Stella McCartney … just to name a few. And the designer price tags to go along with those names was staggering! $540 for one bikini, $2,989 for an evening gown, $1,998 for a smart everyday dress. And adhering to the list Christian had given her, Ms. Acton made sure I had multiples of each. Five bikinis, nine everyday dresses, three cocktail dresses, three evening gowns. Not to mention all the beautiful under garments, nightwear and shoes. It was unbelievable. All totaled, my new Amex card got a $40,000 baptism and Christian was elated when Ms. Acton called him to say that I hadn't given her a hard time. She actually pulled out her cell phone and called him as she handed the damn card back to me!

I don't think that I will ever get used to this superfluousness. It all seems sort of unnatural in a way. That one person should have so much money to spare. And at such a young age. When Christian told me that I would have to learn to be rich if I agreed to marry him, he mentioned that I had never been hungry. His implication was clear. He works as hard as he does because he never wants to be hungry again. He never wants to find himself in the poverty stricken situation his birth mother was in. Indigent and without any hope of something better. The thought is sobering. It brings to mind the image of a scared, hungry, copper haired little boy in filthy tattered clothing and it makes my heart ache.

Oh, my poor Fifty. He only wants to take care of me. He said once that he wanted to give me the world. Such a sweet thing to say, and I know that he meant it. But I just wish he could understand that all I want is him. I don't need all the designer clothes with the outrageous price tags. Yet, he says it's all 'part of the package.'

I take a deep breath and sigh as I sit in the back of the SUV, thankful that Sawyer is driving. My feet hurt from all the shopping and I am ready to get back to Escala and into a soothing tub of bubbles. Part of the package. Hmm. I suppose Christian has a point. He is one of the most prominent businessmen in America. I guess it wouldn't do for his wife to be in dime store clothing while he's rocking Hugo Boss and Giorgio Armani. But still, it seems a little frivolous to me. I have never been into designer labels. That's more Kate's thing. Jeez, my closet is going to rival Kate's soon! Or worse – Mia's! My subconscious looks at me in disapproval over her half-moon glasses. I can't say I disagree with her but, things have been so good between me and Christian these last few weeks – with the exception of our fight over the wedding vows, of course – and I don't want to do anything to upset the groove we've settled into.

He has been so loving and attentive since I said 'yes.' Yesterday, to my surprise, he had called Mrs. Jones and instructed her to have a romantic dinner waiting for us after work. It was spread out on a blanket in front of the roaring fireplace and we ate with our hands as we fed each other stuffed mushrooms and seared sea scallops with a wild mushroom butter. And for desert, strawberries with a decadent chocolate dipping sauce. Some of that sauce ended up being used in very interesting ways! I blush just thinking about it. Remembering the taste of chocolate and Christian. The feel of his tongue on my... Oh, my! My thighs press together as those images run through my mind's eye.

We pull into the garage at Escala and I have never been so happy to be home. It's well after five on Saturday afternoon and I know from Ms. Acton's phone call to Christian that he's home and waiting for me. The elevator opens and instead of being greeted by Taylor, which is the norm, I am shocked to find Christian waiting for me with a big smile.

"Christian," I say questioningly.

"Good evening, Anastasia." His voice is soft and full of humor as he steps toward me and pulls me into his arms. He kisses my hair, inhaling deeply as his arms tighten around me. "I missed you today," he murmurs softly.

"Oh, I missed you, too," I say as I nuzzle his chest. He stiffens slightly but he kisses my hair once more. His reaction is light years away from the way he used to freeze or flinch when I would try to touch or nuzzle him. He really has come a very long way in such a short amount of time but, I notice that he still isn't comfortable with anyone else touching him but me – besides Mia, of course.

"How was the shopping," he asks with a small mocking smile on his face. He knows I hate shopping, the bastard.

"It was excruciatingly painful," I say with as straight a face as I can manage.

He laughs out loud and it is such a wonderful sound, I can't help but laugh at myself. "Oh, my poor baby," he says softly, raising my chin so that he can kiss my lips. "Let me see if I can do something to make you feel better." His voice is suddenly very seductive and I feel my heart rate quicken."I have something for you." He takes my hand and leads me out of the foyer. I think we're heading for the bedroom but, to my surprise, he turns and enters the library.

We walk past the large pool table and over to the opposite side of the room. Where a long table used to sit covered in Grey family photos, there is now a beautiful white wooden desk with an attractive white leather desk chair. On the desk, I see my laptop, several manuscripts I have been reading for work that were sitting on my bedside table, and a framed picture of me and Christian. The one that appeared in The Seattle Times newspaper along with our engagement announcement. On the corner of the desk sits a small bowl of fresh pale pink roses. I stand speechless for a few seconds as it all sinks in. He's created a work space for me in the library, much like his own study. I turn to him, my eyes wide with wonder. "Christian!"

"Do you like it," he asks softly, his voice laced with equal measures of hope and anxiety.

"Oh, Christian, this … was so thoughtful." He looks relieved, and for some reason, I'm overcome with emotion and I feel my eyes threaten to spill over with tears. This is such a sweet gesture; I can't believe he's done this.

"You're always bringing your work home with you," he shrugs. "I figured you should have a proper work space. I thought about converting one of the spare bedrooms but … well, I know how much you love books. I thought you'd be happier here, among friends."

"Oh, Christian!" I practically leap into his arms and his lips find mine in an instant. His left hand weaves into my hair, holding me in place as he kisses me passionately. We are both breathless when he pulls away. "I can't believe you did this for me," I murmur against his lips.

"Anything for you, baby," he whispers. "You know that." He kisses me again as his hands roam over my lower back, down to my behind. I moan softly when he gives me a light squeeze. He releases me suddenly and looks down at me with eyes like smoldering embers. Then he turns and walks slowly to the entrance of the library, closes the door and locks it. When he turns toward me again, his look alone nearly makes me combust.

With measured, deliberate steps, he walks back toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. My breathing shallows as I'm unable to look away. He is so good at building my anticipation. The look on his face is pure, unadulterated lust and I am a quivering mess. Moist in all the right places.

When he reaches me, there are no words. We don't need them. He takes my arms and lifts them above my head, lightly trailing his fingers down the length of them as his hands travel back down to the hem of my t-shirt. With one swift movement, he lifts it up and over my head. Then he runs a finger beneath the strap of my bra, from the top of my shoulder to my shoulder blade. He bends and kisses my neck as his hand finds the clasp of my bra and unfastens it.

I can't stand the anticipation any longer and reach out to reciprocate. Slowly, I take hold of the bottom of his t-shirt and begin to lift. He says nothing as he watches me intently, and he lifts his arms and takes a step back to help me remove his shirt. My hands reach for the clasp of his jeans as he takes my face in both of his hands and kisses me, his tongue exploring my mouth persistently.

He pulls away suddenly, his eyes burning with passion. "I want you now, Ana." His voice is husky and urgent. He reaches for the zipper of my denim skirt and it falls to the floor a second later, followed by my panties. Before I realize it, he is seated in one of the overstuffed chairs and he's pulling me onto his lap so that I'm sitting astride him. His hungry mouth finds my breast as he sinks slowly into me, and we begin to move.

Christian's POV

"If that's how you say 'thank you,' maybe I should surprise you with gifts more often," I whisper as I kiss Ana's temple. God, I love this feeling … holding Ana close to me as our breathing slowly returns to normal. It's like the greatest high in the world.

We're still sitting in the chair in the library, post-coital and sated, and she lightly nuzzles my chest. The action makes me stiffen involuntarily, but it feels … nice. Different. I'm still getting used to it … Ana touching me. I have often tried to explain the sensation to Dr. Flynn; the pain I feel when someone touches my chest or my back. The best way to describe it is to say that it burns like fire. Even when they're not touching my skin directly, it burns like hell. The pain is excruciating and real. Flynn, of course, has his theories about why I describe the sensation in that way. He could be right; I don't know. But Ana's touch is different somehow. Different from Mia's even. With Mia, I still feel that burning pain but, I tolerate it. But with Ana, it's like … a scorching ache. An ache that I crave.

Ana giggles, bringing me out of my tortured musings, and I smile. "You attacked me, Mr. Grey. Not the other way around," she says, and she lightly kisses my chest. I don't protest because the action sends flaming shivers throughout my body and I'm lost for a moment. I silently gasp and tighten my arms around her reflexively. "Besides," she continues softly, "I don't want a bunch of gifts. I just want you."

I tilt her chin up so that I can look into her amazing blue eyes. "You've got me, Ana. You've had me since you fell into my office." She looks up at me with such love in her eyes and it is almost unbearable. What the hell is she doing with me? How is it possible that she's still here? That I haven't run her off with all my fifty shades? "Come," I say distractedly as I help her off my lap. I don't want to examine those questions any further. "Bath then dinner. I had Taylor go that new delicatessen you like."

"You are spoiling me, Mr. Grey." She smiles sweetly at me and I can't help myself. I stand and pull her into my arms, kissing her deeply.

"Anastasia, if you let me," I whisper to her, "I will spend the rest of my life spoiling you."

Ana's POV

His gaze is so intense and his sincerity takes my breath away. I don't know what to say. So I say nothing as I watch him bend gracefully and pick up his t-shirt from the floor. He hands it to me. "Put that on," he softly commands and I absentmindedly realize that he's left his jeans on during our encounter and it makes me think of the soft, ripped jeans he usually wears in the playroom. The thought makes me smile as I pull his t-shirt over my head. He takes my hand and leads me out of the library and to our bedroom. He continues into the bathroom and proceeds to run a bath. Soon the entire bedroom is filled with the sweet, exotic aroma of jasmine.

We're quiet as the tub fills and I find myself watching him move silently around the bathroom as he removes his jeans and his briefs. He examines his reflection in the mirror, rubbing a hand over his five o'clock shadow and determining that he'll let his shave wait. He really is perfection. Just the most beautiful man I've ever seen and I can't believe that he's mine.

His eyes meet mine suddenly and he grins at me. "See something you like, Miss Steele," he asks with a smirk. Still unable to find my voice, and feeling a little shy at the moment, I mutely nod my affirmation with a small smile. Why am I blushing? It's not like he hasn't caught me looking him over before. He turns unexpectedly and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close as he nuzzles my neck and my ear. His teeth lightly tug at my earlobe as his hands travel beneath the t-shirt I'm wearing to find my bare bottom. I moan softly and thread my fingers through his hair, desire exploding from out of nowhere. Then in one swift movement, he lifts me onto the countertop between the two sinks, taking me by surprise.

He stands between my legs as his teeth latch on to my bottom lip and I groan loudly before invading his mouth with my tongue. I kiss him hungrily as his hands venture beneath the t-shirt once more, this time finding my breasts. He tugs and teases their crests until both are large and hard. "Ah!" I cry out at the intensity of his manual assault but the feeling is heavenly.

"Hush, now." His voice is soft but commanding and he covers my mouth with his own, kissing me passionately as he places his hands on my knees and pushes my legs further apart. With one forceful thrust he's inside me, moving hard and quick, setting a pounding rhythm that sends me soaring. In no time at all, pleasure builds and pierces my core, radiating out from deep within me. I am lost as my body takes over, exploding around him as I call out his name.

…...

We sit in the bathtub facing each other. The water is almost overflowing, it's so full. Christian is massaging my feet and it feels so good after wandering around shopping all day.

"I talked to Elliot this afternoon," he says. "He wants to give me a bachelor party next Friday night."

I don't respond right away, even though I know he's watching my reaction very closely. He continues, "I told him that I didn't want a bachelor party but, he seems to think it's his duty as Best Man." He smirks slightly and I know that he's trying to hide his feelings. The fact that his brother wants to throw him a bachelor party pleases him. And I know that it shouldn't bother me but, it does. Especially since I know that he's not going to be happy with what I'm about to say.

"Yeah, I got a phone call from Kate while I was shopping." My voice sounds hesitant, even to me. "She mentioned Elliot's wishes. Sounds like he's got a wild night planned."

Christian gives me a smile and says, "Elliot wouldn't know wild if it bit him in the ass. Don't sweat it, baby. It'll be harmless."

I take a deep breath and forge ahead. "Um … Kate is actually planning a bachelorette party for me too," I say quietly.

Christian stops rubbing my foot and looks at me with a frown. "You mean a bridal shower."

"Um … no. I mean a bachelorette party." Oh, no. Here we go. I know that in Christian's mind, a bridal shower is so much more preferable with its cake and gifts and women playing silly shower games. I smile brightly and try to lighten the mounting tension. "She said bridal showers are for proper old ladies who get married in their thirties," I say with a laugh. Only Christian's not laughing. He's scowling at me.

"And what will this bachelorette party entail," he asks gruffly.

"I don't know. She mentioned maybe going to a dance club. Having a few drinks. She even joked about a male stripper or two," I say lightly, knowing that he's going to go ballistic.

"What!" He practically yells at me.

"Christian..." I begin, but he cuts me off.

"Absolutely not, Anastasia!" He is glaring at me. "I don't like it."

"Well, I don't like the idea of you having a bachelor party either," I say truthfully. "But I would never try to stop it from happening." His lips set into a hard, thin line and I know he's not happy right now. But I keep talking, "I know that Elliot is planning on exotic dancers and such for your party. Where do you think Kate got the idea? Besides, both of our mothers will be there. How wild could it possibly get?"

"That doesn't make me feel any better." He glares at me again.

"Well, as I said, I don't particularly like the idea of a bachelor party either. But I trust you, Christian. Why can't you trust me?"

"I do trust you, Ana." His eyes are burning with a mix of sincerity and fury. "I trust you implicitly. But I don't want you surrounded by a bunch of strange men. It's them I don't trust!"

I sigh. "Christian, you don't trust any men around me unless they're family or security," I say quietly.

He opens his mouth to respond but, quickly closes it again. Then he frowns and runs a wet hand through his hair. "You're right. I don't." He sits brooding for a moment, looking alternately down at the bubbles in the water and back up at me. I can tell he's mulling something over in his mind. Finally he mutters, "I don't see why you can't just have a regular bridal shower. Leave it to Kate to do something to piss me off!"

I sigh again, letting my head fall back as I look up at the ceiling and groan in frustration. When I look at Christian again he is pouting. Oh, he looks so sexy when he pouts! I can't help my giggles and his pout grows deeper.

"What is so funny," he growls at me and my giggles turn into full out, side-splitting laughter. He frowns at me and then he can't hide his smile. Soon he is laughing with me and it feels so good. I raise up on my hands and knees and move over to him, sloshing water over the sides of the tub and onto the floor. I sit astride him and take his face in my hands.

"I love you so much, Christian," I say breathlessly with a big, goofy grin on my face.

"Oh, Ana. I love you too, baby." His grin matches my own as he leans in to kiss me.