Another day, another session with Flynn. Christian had just finished recounting his latest conversation with Ana, the one where she had detailed her desire to see him love someone in this life, whether or not it was her.
At the time, he'd just been relieved that she wasn't pressuring him to feel those things for her. Because, as had always been his story, he was very unsure they were ever things he could feel. But the more he'd mulled the conversation over, it started to bother him. Was she setting them up for failure already? Did she sense something about him, about them, already that made her think love wasn't a possibility? It started to eat away at him, and the more he thought about it, the more he was sure she was laying the groundwork for an eventual separation. And if she didn't have faith in an eventual love for them, what chance did he stand to obtain those feelings?
He knew what he wanted, and he wanted to love and be loved. He wanted to love Ana and be loved by Ana. But now that he had these thoughts swirling about her bowing out, he was scared of letting himself get there. She was a better person than him; he wasn't like her. He would never survive it if he proclaimed his love to her and she couldn't reciprocate. It would slay him. He was a logical man. He understood on a logical level that life wasn't a fairy tale, and that there were many things in this life that could tear apart two people who were legitimately in love. There was no sure thing. Nothing was easy, nothing could be taken for granted. Love took work, he understood that concept. So sure, maybe 'forever' wasn't their personal path, but he'd like to do everything in his power to forge that path as far as it could possibly go.
He'd never been one to listen intently during his therapy sessions. To be quite honest, he'd maintained much of his teenage aloofness while sitting on John Flynn's red leather sofa. That was until recently. Now he always found himself sitting up straight, his attention fully on his therapist, ready and more than willing to really listen to everything the Brit had to say. And today was no exception to that.
With his ass on the edge of the seat and his elbows on his knees, he leaned a little closer as he finished up explaining his most recent musings to the good doctor. He really wanted to know John's take on everything Ana had said to him about their future.
Relaxing back into his own seat, John removed his bifocals from his face, folding them up and resting them on the side table to his right. He clicked his pen, the point retreating back inside of the housing. His dark brown eyes found Christian's blazing gray.
"As I've prefaced during many of our sessions, I am not here to give you any concrete answers, let alone easy ones. Especially regarding the meaning of other people's words." John started.
"I know," Christian rushed. He knew John couldn't tell him—yes, it does sound like she's setting your relationship up for failure, or—no, you're reading too much into it. He can't come here expecting a yes or no. He just wanted to talk it out.
"That being said, your Ana truly sounds like a remarkable woman." His Ana. God, did he enjoy the sound of those words. "From all the information you've given me on her, she sounds like a very bright, logical, realistic woman, yet one who gives of herself freely and lives for others."
Christian nodded.
"That being said," John trailed off for a moment, leaning forward again, making Christian imperceptibly do the same. "She sounds like the type of person who is so selfless, that it may come at the cost of her own self-preservation."
"Explain, please," Christian urged him to continue, his heart rate picking up.
"It's not that I think she's setting your relationship up for failure, so much as I think she's doing everything she can to set you up for success. It seems like Ana is doing everything she can to help you find your way. Doing and saying whatever she can to encourage you. But she may be sacrificing too much of herself. Everything for her seems to center around your needs and your comfort. Everything she does or that you two do together is done with you in mind. But when have either of you stopped to make sure she's being fulfilled in this relationship? Have you truly explored her wants, her likes, her needs, and made an effort to show her you are willing to satisfy them? You've taken her gliding, on your helicopter on your boat… all things you love and enjoy—"
"And she did too," Christian interrupted harshly, defensively.
"She may very well have," Flynn placated. "And it's fine- good that you wanted to show her those things."
"I want to show her the world," Christian interrupted again.
"And, again, that's perfectly fine. You should want to share your interests with her. And it's wonderful if she learns to enjoy them as well. But that's not my point. My point is, what have you done that's specific to her? You and Ana communicate intensely about you, but do you ever stop to ask about her? What have you let her teach you about herself?"
"She hasn't really… tried. If she mentioned something she wanted to do, I would of course be more than happy to do whatever she wanted…"
"But that's my point. She's so caught up in making sure you're happy, you're comfortable, that she is letting herself fall second. A perfect example is your sex life thus far. Obviously when it came to sex, you assumed her needs rather than discussing them, and you turned out to be wrong. And yes, she managed to be forthcoming with you about her needs. But it took time, and it came out in the midst of anger and hurt feelings because she thought you were turning her down. Is that how you want to learn everything about her as a person? On the heels of some fight because you never bothered to ask? That whole fight could have been avoided if you'd ever taken the time to ask her what she liked in bed. And we both know it's not because you were too shy to talk about sex. You did it all the time with your subs—sat down and talked it out and even spelled it all out in black and white on paper."
Christian ran his hands over his face in frustration. Was he really the selfish prick Flynn was making him out to be?
As if he'd read his mind, Flynn interjected, "People with those types of personalities make it hard to realize you're doing something wrong. She's likely, for the most part, perfectly happy attending to your needs. It's inherent in her to do everything possible to make sure you're taken care of. She's not silently brooding that you don't give her the same amount of consideration. She's focused on you and completely content being so. She might be this way because it's just how she's wired, or it might stem from her past psychological history, or a combination of both. Obviously, from what you've told me, she's suffered a lot of psychological trauma and mental abuse as well. Without talking to her, I can't begin to guess where she stands on her own issues. But I can say that it's not healthy for her to always put herself last. That's why she needs a partner who will put her first, as well. You need to show her that her happiness is just as important as yours. It seems like she is bending over backwards to make sure you grow and flourish while she might be wilting in the meant time."
"But that doesn't make any sense. She has fought me tooth and nail from day one. She's pissed me off more times than I can count. She's walked out on me more than once. She's had no problem telling me like it is and putting me in my place on multiple occasions. Her pushing me is what got me here. So it would make no sense for her to suddenly go from this fierce personality who defended herself to one who rolls over for my benefit."
"Again, I cannot give definitive answers without having time to speak with and get to know Ana personally. But I do know that some people operate very differently externally verses how they really feel deep inside. She may be full of conviction and fire outside, and be very insecure inside. Or maybe it's because of the way your relationship has evolved. Maybe she didn't feel the need to delve too deeply in the beginning because you two were essentially strangers at that point. Maybe she didn't feel she owed you anything, but now that time has allowed you to slowly build a connection, a friendship, and ultimately, a romantic relationship, her sense of loyalty to you and your growth has changed into something she now cares deeply about and for which she feels responsible to encourage. She likely just wants what's best for you, and is now happily willing to do whatever necessary to encourage your happiness as well."
They sat in silence while Christian mulled over everything John had said.
"We're out of time, I'm afraid," John finally broke into his train of thought. "But I would like to suggest that you discuss your fears of Ana leaving with her. I'd like to reiterate that, from what you told me, I don't think she's trying to set up your relationship for failure, but rather set up your personal future for success. But inadvertently, she might be doing both. You need to talk to her. Let her know what you're feeling, what you're concerned about, and see what she says. I get the feeling she's always going to be willing to be honest with you, and that's good for you, for her, and for you two as a couple."
-Went out with Kate to Mile High- XO Ana
Christian sighed, crumpling up the note he'd found on his pillow, instead of his girlfriend. He'd had his session with Flynn sandwiched between the end of his work day and a dinner meeting he'd scheduled with his corporate attorney. He'd headed back home with every intention of confronting Ana about his feelings regarding their conversation. But she wasn't here. She was out. At a Mile High. A club. His club. The club he'd just left.
He wished he'd known she was there. He would have—
…what?
Gone to the dance club level and joined her? Off the cuff, the likelihood of that seemed slim to nil. He knew the crowd his club drew. It was all twenty-somethings with deep pockets, all getting wasted and dirty dancing, making out as means of public foreplay before splitting off to their apartments for easy one night stands. It wasn't a scene he was interested in in the least.
Except… his girlfriend was there. So the more he thought about it… Yes. He would have joined her.
He imagined her there, calm and relaxed, laughing and happy. She was so easy going- so genuinely good. He smiled, thinking about her. Hell, he always smiled while thinking about her. He wondered if she was drinking… dancing? She looked so sexy when she was dancing. He started to imagine the way her hips swayed, her breast lightly bouncing, her hair flowing in soft waves around her shoulders. She was probably singing along with the music—she loved to do that. He imaged what she might be wearing- a dress and heels, he was sure. Something tight, something he could inch slowly up her thighs once she got home…
He felt his dick twitch as the thoughts blooming in his head. Now he was thinking of the little nooks and crannies of the club to which he could whisk her away in order to make good on his fantasy. He liked to keep his club clean of that sort of shit, but where there's a will, there's a way, and he knew the clubs' patrons always found ways to manage closet or bathroom hook ups.
The idea of the clubs other patrons latched on to his brain, and he felt the inklings of unease begin to unfurl. Other people. Other men. His sexy as fuck girlfriend was in a club right now almost certainly garnering the attention of countless assholes. Their eyes raking over her body, imaging the same thoughts he'd just been entertaining—wondering what was under that dress, wondering where they could take her for a quick fuck.
He felt his body bristle at the thought. He could trust Ana, of that he was sure. But the male clientele of Mile High? Not so much.
In a split second decision, he was in his closet, quickly changing out of his suit and into something more suitable for the club atmosphere. He would have denied it to anyone who asked, but he knew he'd spent the few extra moments to pick out something… purposeful. He may be just a pretty face, and one he resented most of the time, but tonight he was going to take advantage of the fact that he had the looks and body to leave the women swooning—even if it was only for the one woman he wanted to swoon.
The jeans he chose hung of his hips just right, the fitted plain white t-shirt, and the dark brown leather jacket. His hair was the perfect amount of disheveled, the stubble forming on his chin adding just the right edge.
He let Taylor know he was leaving and driving himself, his services not needed for the night. Still, his CPO followed him, grabbing a different set of keys from the utility closet. The ever present, ever ready Jason Taylor.
Christian made the quick trip to the club in his R8, a smirk on his face as the valet took his keys with a childlike grin. Yeah, it was a nice car…
He bypassed the line, the bouncer at the door immediately recognizing him, letting him through with an eager 'Hello, Mr. Grey." He got the same sycophantic reception from the club's promoter, the general manager, as well as a few waitresses, and he hadn't even made it to the VIP section yet, where he knew Kate and Ana would be.
And when he finally made it back to the closed off VIP area, immediately a tall, thin woman with honey blonde hair and a tiny little dress approached him.
"Mr. Grey," she smiled seductively. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you. Welcome. Steph, the promoter told me you were on your way back to my section. My name is Amanda. I'm the VIP Manager."
"Hello," he greeted tightly. Sometimes he wished he could be friendlier to people, especially his staff, but so many of these women made it so damn difficult. If he gave them an inch, they took a mile. A smile from him was all the encouragement some of these predatory women needed. They took it as a sign that he was interested. He'd once gone down to personally thank a managerial staff member for her hard work, just to make sure he was showing his appreciation to the staff that helped keep his business running. He'd commended her, telling her how impressed he was with her professionalism, her work ethic, her drive… She'd lunged at him seconds later, throwing her arms around his shoulders and planting her lips on his. He'd pushed her off immediately, and a praise for a job well done and turned into a firing in less than a minute. It was the last time he'd expressed his appreciation for an employee as anything other than a percentage increase on their paycheck, and even that wasn't done without HR present. But in his day to day life, he often found himself needing to come off as an asshole just to deter women from pursuing him more adamantly. He was used to it by now, but sometimes he wished he could just be… nice.
But his aloof reaction didn't seem to deter Amanda, as she saddled up next to him. "You picked a great night to come in. We have a very popular guest DJ in tonight. The crowd has been loving him. Is there anything I can get you? I've made myself available to service any and all of your needs this evening."
"No, thank you, Amanda," he said dismissively, his eyes searching for Ana among the crowd. It didn't take long to find her. Maybe it was the surreal connection they seemed to share. Maybe it was simple luck. But upon his first cursory glance to the VIP dance floor, he spotted her. He heard Amanda talking again, her tone laced with disappointment, but he wasn't really listening to her words. He did notice when someone came up to grab her, and she excused herself, promising to return. He huffed, then rolled his eyes to himself. By then, he would hopefully have Ana in his arms and Amanda would get the message and back off.
His eyes were still glued to the only woman in the room worth looking at. She was exactly as advertised in his brain- dress, heels, long flowing hair, and gorgeous plump lips mouthing the words to the song as she draped her arms over Kate's shoulders, grinding her hips against those of her best friend. He had no attraction what-so-ever to Miss Kavanagh, but even he couldn't deny the uptick in his arousal at the sight of Ana grinding on another woman.
But his eyes narrowed when he realized he wasn't the only one enjoying the show. Of course he wasn't. Because even though Katherine was the furthest thing from his type, he couldn't deny that he knew she was the epitome of beauty to many other men. So to see these two beautiful women, seemingly lost in their own world, scantily clad bodies moving in perfect sync to the pulsating rhythm of the music? Yeah, plenty of predatory male eyes were focused on the show.
And it seemed he wasn't the only one who noticed the male attention. Because before he could go out there himself, he saw the solid wall of male body and blonde curls weave its way through the crowd and stop in front of Ana. His brother, who he hadn't known would be here with the girls, handed each girl a shot glass. The three clinked them together before downing them in unison. Then Elliot leaned down to speak in Ana's ear, a wide grin on his face as he spoke. Kate and Ana laughed, then he said something else that causing Ana to roll her eyes with a smile and a shake of her head. She light tapped his cheek before placing a quick kiss on it, extricating herself from Kate and letting Elliot take her spot. She grabbed the empty glasses from them, then motioned to where Christian knew the bathrooms were then started to make her way in that direction.
He kept his eyes on her while he too moved toward the bathroom, watching her drop the shot glasses of at the bar on her way. He shot the bartender a glare as he ignored everyone waiting for drinks to take the glasses from Ana and speak to her for a moment. She seemed unaffected by whatever he said, then turned away, and Christian watched the asshole's eyes follow her before someone at the bar snapped him out of his trance.
Ana was slightly off kilter on her feet as she went toward the corridor of bathrooms, which meant she probably had a decent amount of alcohol in her system. He was suddenly relieved to know he was here to provide her with a safe ride home.
The hall with the VIP bathrooms was filled with small, individual rooms instead of one room with stalls. It was deserted when he reached it. Not knowing which one Ana had gone into, he leaned back against the wall to wait for her to come out. A moment later a door near him opened and he knew not enough time had passed for it to be Ana exiting the stall.
"Mr. Grey!" the VIP manager squeaked out, obviously surprised by his presence just outside of the bathroom door. He groaned internally. Couldn't it have been anybody but her? Her eyes shifted around for a moment, looking at the empty corridor, and he saw something flash in her eyes. Confusion, but then something almost… excited? Hopeful? He got the immediate feeling that she was considering the fact that he'd actually been standing out here wait for her.
He watched her back arch slightly, her breasts pushing forward. She swiped her tongue over her lips as he eyes descending from his face down his body, then back up. She took a brave step forward, her fluttering eyelashes revealing her eyes were now lit with lust. "Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Grey? Did you think of any needs that need servicing? Anything at all?" The low, husky lilt to her voice made him want to laugh in her face. Was she serious?
Before he could decline her desperate offer, another bathroom door clicked open, and out stepped the perfect specimen that was Anastasia Steele.
She was in a skin tight royal blue little number with some nude colors heels that made her legs look like they went on forever.
She wobbled on her feet a little, her arm shooting out to grab for the door frame like she thought she was going to fall. She let out a quiet giggle before twisting the bathroom door handle and softly closing, like someone would do if they were trying not to wake up a sleeping person. When she looked up, she came to a halt as soon as she noticed there were other people in the hall, and her eyes found his a moment later. She was usually so hard to read, but in her obviously inebriated state, her eyes were clear as day to him. They left his gaze almost as soon as they'd found it, instead opting to focus on his body. He didn't think he'd ever felt quite as much like a piece of meat before as he did under Ana's current gaze. She searched his body hungrily, her blue eyes taking on their customary darker depth when she was turned on. He could see it in her whole body, the way she squirmed slightly in her heels, her lip pulled between her teeth. And if he hadn't been able to tell then, she certainly made it clear when she finally spoke.
"Holy shit you look so hot," she let out with this husky, breathy voice, followed by a groan. The actual words, as well as her tone while she spoke them, shot straight to his groin, immediately conjuring up images of taking her back into the bathroom and defiling every inch of her delectable body.
And he might have too, if they'd been alone. But they weren't, and he was reminded of that fact when he saw Amanda stiffen up, like a wild animal when their hackles rise.
"I apologize, Mr. Grey. I'll take care of this," she said, turning to face Ana. "Miss, you have way overstepped your boundaries by addressing Mr. Grey in such a disrespectful manner. It's obvious to me that you've been overserved, so I will have to insist you leave the club immediately. If you choose not to, I'll be forced to have security remove you from the premises."
Ana's eyebrows shot up on her head in surprise as the vitriolic way Amanda was speaking to her. Her eyes darted to Christian for a moment, and then she dissolved into giggles again. Amanda huffed at her in annoyance, and Christian did everything he could to keep from showing any emotion on his face. He kind of wanted to see what drunk Ana was going to do. Normally she would have spat words right back at someone who talked to her so rudely. But instead, she was giggling like a little girl, and he was moments away from laughing at the whole thing himself.
"There is nothing funny about this, Miss," Amanda insisted, stealing a glance at Christian before continuing. "Now are you going to leave, or should I call over a bouncer to escort you out?"
Ana managed to control her laughing, taking in a deep breath and straightening herself up. She tried to plaster on a serious face, but it was obvious to Christian that she was barely hiding her amusement.
"I don't want to go," she said, her voice and face all pouty, reminding him of the time they went to Canlis and the waiter told her they were out of her favorite dessert. Amanda opened her mouth to talk, but Ana cut her off. "Maybe Mr. Grey will allow me to stay if I apologize." She turned toward Christian, her big eyes even wider like a sad puppy. "I'm so, so sorry Mr. Grey. I meant no disrespect," she said, stepping closer. "Please don't kick me out of your club."
Christian brought his hand up to his face, his index finger running along his bottom lip in an attempt to hide his smile. But he saw the way Ana's eyes darkened, watching his finger before finding his eyes again. He cleared his throat, assuming his CEO persona, pretending to be stern. "I don't normally stand for such disrespect." She inched closer to him, and he wasn't sure if she knew she was doing it. He knew Amanda was watching them, confused, because it was odd that she was getting closer and closer as they spoke. But he knew it was because she was just drawn to him, as he was to her.
"Am I forgiven, Mr. Grey?" she asks, closing the final bit of distance, slowly sliding her body up against his, absentmindedly arching her back so her breasts pressed against his torso.
His smirk finally broke through at the contact. "I suppose I could, Miss Steele," he murmured, placing a kiss to the top of her head. She looked back up at him with a smile. "Hi, baby," he mumbled, still aware of their audience.
But if Ana remembered Amanda was there, she didn't show it, or just didn't care. Because she grinned before curling her fingers around the back of his head and pulled him mouth down onto hers. Their lips fused then parted quickly, a flick of his tongue enough for him to taste just how much she'd been drinking. Her quick but loud moan was encouragement to both stop and keep going—keep going because he wanted to, but stop because if he didn't, he was sure she wouldn't. So, making the judgment call, he pulled away, placing a chaste kiss on her immediate pout as he did.
He dared a glance at Amanda, who was watching them intently, her face red, her arms straight down at her sides, her hands balled into tight fists as she fumed silently.
"I think we'll forgive Miss Steele for her indiscretion, this time," he said, watching her posture crumble and sadness fill her eyes
"Yes, sir," she said, her voice so remorseful you'd think she'd just been told a close family member had died.
"You can get back to work. Miss Steele was my only need, and now I have her."
He watched tears, actual tears form in Amanda's eyes as she nodded her head erratically and scurried away, clearly jilted.
He felt Ana's fingers tugging at his hair again as soon as they were alone, and urgently her lips found his. "I missed you," she mumbled against his mouth before pulling away again. "Wanna dance with me?"
"It would be my pleasure," he grinned, taking her hand and leading her back out onto the floor.
They'd spent the night dancing and drinking until the club closed. He'd never stayed at a club until it closed before. He'd gone out to bars with Elliot and stayed out late, but rarely to clubs, and never until closing time. But last night had been so much fun. Just simple, easy fun. Elliot and Kate welcomed him with open arms when he'd shown up on the dance floor with Ana. Periodically he and Elliot would leave to grab more drinks, and would sit back and watch the girls continue to grind against each other, much to Elliot's delight. More than once he made the joke of taking Ana home, and after the third time and punch to the arm, he finally stopped. Christian knew it was a joke—he'd even laughed the first time. But by the third time, the thought of his brother having sex with Ana made him queasy.
Christian has intended on driving the group home, but after a while decided to live a little and imbibe as well. He texted Taylor, letting him know he'd need to provide rides, and then let loose. And he'd had a great time. He'd laughed more in those couple of hours than he had in years, and when the night finally winded down, he was actually sad to go.
They made it out to the car before both girls managed to pass out in the back seat. Elliot had managed to rouse Kate enough to walk inside their building, but Christian wasn't as lucky when he'd gotten Ana back to Escala. She was out cold, so he was forced to carry her bridal style up the elevator and to their bed. He gently took of her dress, shoes and jewelry, tucking the sheet around her before tugging off his own clothes and climbing in beside her. She let out a contented sigh as she curled up into his arms, and before he knew it, he was asleep as well.
Of course, that only lasted so long. He was awoken from that peaceful sleep an undetermined amount of time later, his body tense and covered in a sheen of sweat. But unlike the countless nights before, where he was tense and sweaty from a nightmare, this night he was awoken with pleasure coursing through his veins.
It took a moment for him to realize what was happening, to fully recognize the fact that he was painfully hard, his erection sliding in and out of the most deliciously soft, velvet mouth, across the most delicate lips and tongue he'd ever felt. He let out a groan, still half out of it, and opening his eyes expecting to see the mess of brown hair in his lap. But instead he was greeted with a far different—and far better—surprise.
As he regained his bearings, he realized that hovering above his face, obscuring his view of anything else and obliterating his desire to see her head in his lap, was Ana herself. Bare and glistening wet, her beautiful plumped, pink pussy floated inches above his lips, begging for attention.
Immediately his hand wrapped around her thighs and pulled, forcing her down the few inches until his lips could meet hers. He could feel her smile around his cock as it was obvious he was awake now, but she never stopped working his erection with her expert touch.
He ran his nose down the length of her slit, taking the time to appreciate the fact that he could, well, appreciate this. That he could wake from sleep with someone on top of him and not feel unsafe, that he could be at ease with someone taking control, that he trusted her so much that he wasn't immediately concerned about being touched. He reveled in these thoughts for a moment, then let the thoughts flit from his mind to focus on her, his tongue reaching for her clit as one of his long fingers sunk all the way between her fold, making her moan.
"Ana," he murmured into the quiet as they lay in the bed, both having been completely sated from the rather raunchy sixty-nine-ing they'd just completed. Ana was no prude, but the alcohol, which was still coursing through their systems, had made them both that much more open to exploration. There had been so many fingers in various holes, and he couldn't remember the last time, if ever, a woman had ridden his face so fervently. There was a brief period where he thought he might suffocate to death between the cheeks of her ass. But shit… what a way to go.
But now she was nuzzled against his side, her head strategically placed on his arm so her face was not touching his chest. "Mmm," she hummed lowly, her voice evidence of the fact that he'd really tired her out.
"Are you happy?" he asked, his fingers tightening on the round of her shoulder, reflexively holding onto her, a silent, unconscious plea for her to ease his fears.
He felt her head drag along his arm, adjusting her position so she could look up at his face, confusion mixing with the sleepy look in her eyes. "Huh?"
He cleared his throat uncomfortably, then restated his question. "I just need to know. Are you happy?" Then added a tentative, "With me, I mean."
Slowly she eased up and away from him, his hand falling off her shoulder as she propped herself up on her elbow to look down on him. They looked into each other's eyes, both saying things to each other that words couldn't. He was insecure. He needed her reassurance. And he could tell by the way her eyes softened that she understood that immediately. Normally he'd be embarrassed about needing reassurance. It was so unlike him to be this insecure. But he just couldn't manage to find any part of him that was self-consciousness at letting Ana know his deepest needs.
The fingers of her free hand traced gently down his cheek, across the angle of his jaw before they left and were replaced by her lips. She placed a delicate trail of kisses along his jawline to his chin then up to his lips. Softly, slowly they melded to his, the kisses as intense as they were gentle.
"Yes," she whispered against his lips, her voice quiet, but firm. "Of course."
He moaned at the surety in her answer, then again at the feeling of her sinking her fingers into his hair and tugging as she continued to kiss him so tenderly. It was making his chest tighten, the intimacy of it all. She must have seen something in his face, sensed it, because she questioned him almost immediately.
"You believe me don't you?"
He nodded, reluctantly, making it known that he did, or—wanted to, at least. But there was doubt.
"Can I show you?" she asked in a hush.
He nodded again, his heart instantly racing in anticipation. Ceding control to her in the moment didn't feel scary. It felt exhilarating, and oddly right. He hadn't really yielded control, sexual or otherwise, to anyone since… her. But that had been different. This thing with Ana was nothing like allowing himself to be dominated by that bitch.
The thoughts of her were fleeting as Ana's lips met his again with added determination, but still the kisses stayed achingly slow. Lacing her fingers with his, her flawless body stretched out above him made him instantly hard. Her eyes shined with want and need. Her hair fell around her like a curtain, her skin flushed, her breast tight and nipples pert. Her torso arched down to those perfect hips which sat astride him. He felt her hot flesh resting on his lower abdomen, still wet from the mixture of his saliva and her previous orgasm. Long gone was the scent of her shampoo and body wash. She smelled of sweat and sex and it was better than any smell a company could bottle. It was raw and natural and alluring.
Her arms stretched up so their linked hands were resting next to his head. In the back of his mind he knew this move was for him, so that he knew where her hands were even when she was in control. His lips caught a nipple and she paused, letting him lave it gently, his tongue swirling around before his lips pulled then sucked. Deftly, her hips dipped and stretched, her body arching to catch his erection and align it with her entrance. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moved back and down onto it, sinking his length into her with one long, fluid motion.
Slowly their hips worked together, a deep grind providing enough friction to have both of them panting in no time. Fingers still linked, he moved their hands down, trapping hers behind her back, the move pushing her down so her nipples brushed against his chest. The feeling of the skin to skin contact sent zings of exhilaration through him, the feeling new and completely thrilling for him. He'd never allowed his naked chest to touch someone during sex before. It wasn't the same as her fingers on him, something he knew he still could not handle, but it was progress. He saw the questioning look in her eyes, the moment of worry pass through them as her breasts swayed across his skin. He could feel her tense in fear, her back arching to try and put distance between their upper bodies, but with her arms trapped the way they were, she had no leverage to move.
He bent his knees, forcing her to fall forward a little bit more, the full weight of her breasts now resting on him as well. A deep moan erupted from his throat at the feeling. Finding her lips again, his hips continued to work in tandem with hers. Higher and higher they climbed, their bodies hot and sweating, the friction so deliciously intense and satisfying. He opened his eyes, finding hers already open above him. He locked his sight on her, not wanting to look away.
He released her hands, and they moved immediately up, her left hooking around the side of his neck and her tight entwining in hair on the back of his head. He hitched his hands around her hips, actively tugging them down against his to that he stayed as deeply inside of her as he could possibly be.
Their mouths opened but they'd stopped kissing. Instead, their hot, panting breaths filled each other's mouths. Shit, he'd never felt something this intense before. They moved like that for what felt like forever, both of their bodies tense, actively pushing against each other with as much force as they could muster, pushing and pulling, grinding and digging. It was so deep and so raw and so fulfilling.
That was when he felt it. When her eyes were blazing into his as their bodies were fused together from top to bottom, he knew he felt that what she wanted him to feel, that she said was true. She was happy. She was feeling the things he felt when he was with her. This—them—what they were together, was so much more profound than he ever thought realistically possible. Panting, shaking, moaning. There was no pretense between them. It was just them, stripped bare- body, mind and soul. No one else knew him like she did, knew what he had been through, or understood what they'd been through together. She was everything to him. She was his first thought in the morning, his last thought at night. She provided him comfort and happiness with nothing but her simple existence. He'd questioned his role in her life, but right here, right now, without flowery words or promises, her eyes, her body- they told him everything he needed to know about how she really felt about him. Their depth bled from her soul her veneration of him. She was without a stitch of clothing, but the most naked thing about her was her gaze. She was completely open to him, bestowing upon him her absolute trust and faith. She was wordlessly handing over every piece of her on a silver platter- her body, her soul, her heart. She trusted him with it all.
And as delicious as her body felt surrounding him, it was his mind, and the realizations he'd just come to, that slung-shot his body to the brink of orgasm. The lucky man he was, he'd been witness to enough of her own orgasms by now to know when she was about to erupt, and he was relieved when he unmistakably saw that tell-tale look in her eyes too. Wrapping his arms around her tiny waist, he hugged her tightly against him, grinding his erection so deeply it took his breath away like a sucker punch to the stomach. His lips caught her moan as she came around him, her insides shaking, coating his cock in her warm wetness as she coaxed from him the most intense orgasm he'd ever experienced. Deep inside of her his dick pulsated wildly, the spurts of his cum so vicious he was sure she had to feel them slashing her inner walls. They were both panting out moans, placing quick groaning kisses on each other lips as they remained adrift in their post-orgasmic highs for long minutes.
The methodical grinding of their hips systematically slowed until they were both finally still. They remained fused together, their hips, their sex, their torsos and chests, his hand tightly wrapped around her waist and her fingers curled in his hair. Her forehead rested on his shoulder and his face nuzzled her cheek next to her ear.
Overwhelming contentment washed through his body like he'd just injected the world's greatest drug in his veins. "God, I love you," he muttered into her hair.
He felt her body go rigid on top of him, her breath stopping in her chest, her fingers taking a sudden death grip on copper curls, her muscles tight with instant stress. He felt his heartbeat skyrocket as he realized what he's just said. Neither of them moved. His lungs started to ache and burn as the oxygen dissipated but he failed to exhale and take another breath. They both just stayed completely still, her head still cocked to the side, not daring a look at him. He knew he was staring wide eyed, mouth agape at the ceiling.
What had he just said?