Author's Note: Get ready for a roller-coaster ride. The sh!t hits the fan in this chapter. I love epic smackdowns and this is pretty much the smackdown for this storyline. I worked hard on this, so please be kind :)

I know that Ana is a jumbled mess here, but don't hate on her too much. She is genuinely torn and conflicted. I hope this chapter offers some insights into her thoughts and illustrates that she's only human and has the same weaknesses that many of us do. We all know what we should do in relationships — that doesn't mean we always do it.

Thank you as always for the awesome reviews!

Cwalk74 — You hit the nail on the head of where I'm coming from with this story. It's awesome when people really get what you're trying to do!

Eleanor Wyatt — Thank you. I strive to make my stories relatable, so that means a lot.

Sansanchez — Not ranting. That's definitely what Ana can't wrap her mind around: How do you compartmentalize sex and not develop any feelings? And yes he took her choices away, and that is the crux of her resentment.

Millarca666 — I never thought about it but that's a great Catch-22 you point out: If he had told Ana in the beginning about the full extent of his subs, she probably would've run and they wouldn't of gotten together in the first place. But because he didn't, his relationship is threatened anyway. I'm with you. I would've run for the hills too.

FanFicFanWI — I'm totally with you on not making Ana out to be a supermodel – too easy. Glad you liked the penis line :)

ShadoeCoon — I agree that Ana is less assertive in the books. I try to keep that in mind but yes I prefer to write her as a stronger character. It's just what I know (and it's funny how some people still think I make her too weak. Guess you can't please everyone).

ShadoeCoon, VRB Mariposa and Ianieloveu — I completely respect your viewpoint, but I think it's only normal for people (women and men) to be nosy about their significant other's pasts. Some people prefer not knowing. Others have to know, and because Ana feels she has been kept in the dark for so long, she wants to know everything that was hidden from her.

Again, I realize Christian's past is in the past, but I always thought that in the books, it wasn't realistic that Ana would just be cool knowing that a ton of hot women slept with her man. It's only natural for this knowledge to bother a lot of people. Just my opinion.

But it's not so much the women that are the issue — it's the trust thing. As anyone who's been in a relationship knows, once the trust is gone, it's hard to repair, and that's really what this story is all about. I hope you enjoy it and would love to keep hearing your thoughts!

"Do you want me to pick up some Chinese for dinner?" Christian asked hesitantly.

"No. I ate something earlier." Eyes cast downward to avoid his judgmental gaze, Ana took her snifter and headed toward her spot on the balcony.

Christian battled every urge to interrogate her on what that "something" was, knowing that she had barely eaten for the last two days, but he wisely refrained. Now embarking on his third day of the silent treatment, however, Christian was at his wit's end.

He had given Ana a wide berth since dropping his Thanksgiving bombshell on her, watching helplessly as his comatose girlfriend walked around their apartment like a zombie. She'd only ventured outside once the other day, to visit Kate. Christian grimaced. I can only imagine how that lovely little conversation went. Otherwise, Ana slept in all day and migrated to the balcony at night, staring aimlessly at the moonlit sky, as if the answers to her quandary would somehow magically materialize if she stared long and hard enough.

It was a chilly evening but the temperature inside was even more frigid. As he had done the past two nights, Christian wordlessly came on the balcony as soon as the sun had set to drape a warm, oversize blanket over Ana's shoulders. He left a plate of her favorite fruits and cheeses on the small table next to her lounge chair, hoping against hope that she would appease him and take a few bites.

"It's getting cold," he said, his face falling when she stubbornly refused to acknowledge his presence. "I'll be in the study if you need anything." He stole one last forlorn glance back at her, willing Ana to look at him, but she wouldn't budge. Christian's body sagged in defeat as he wandered back inside.

Like a statue, Ana locked up the cauldron of emotions that were tearing her insides apart. On the first night of her balcony escape, she drank her customary tea with milk. On the second night, she indulged in wine. Tonight, she had graduated to brandy.

I'm going to be a full-blown alcoholic when all this is said and done, Ana snorted derisively before pondering what "done" meant to her.

Do I leave him? Can I leave him? I love him. The thought of living without him is unbearable. The thought of living with a liar is just as unappealing.

Ever since Christian's deception had been unmasked, Ana obsessed over the parade of impossibly beautiful women who had blindly acquiesced to fulfill Christian's every base need and desire. Instead of whips and chains, she made him do dishes and give her foot rubs. Not exactly sub material.

How can I possibly compete with women willing to do whatever it takes to please him? He swears there's no competition but what about six months from now, five years from now? What if I'm a mere infatuation — a novelty before he goes back to his old ways? I'm pale. I'm lanky. I'm awkward. I think comma and grammar jokes are cool. Let's call a spade a spade: I'm a dork. I always have been. Before Christian it didn't faze me, but now my dorkiness is on constant display. He gets hit on by sophisticated women left and right. Will I always be looking over my shoulder, waiting for his next submissive to scoop him up?

Ana fixated on an unknown point in the distant skyline, her mind trying to make sense of the revelation that Christian contracted out a series of women like they were pieces of rented furniture.

People don't change their spots and addiction is a relentless, reoccurring beast. When he gets bored of me and craves more, where will that leave me? Nowhere. I'll be that idiotic girl who left Harvard to follow her horny, cheating boyfriend across the country and study in Seattle. I traded in Ivy League for 365 days of fucking rain. I don't have a job, money, friends or even a freaking apartment. I'm right where Christian wants me to be — at his mercy. He was my first lover, my first boyfriend, my first everything. I'm a total novice at life and I let my emotions guide me, instead of my head. What do I know about sex and relationships, especially with a man who fucks like a rabbit and probably knows more positions than the Kama Sutra?

Ana took a long draught of her brandy. It burned her throat, though not as much as the questions searing a hole through her brain.

Chemistry fades. Will I have to experiment with full-blown BDSM when he needs to spice up our sex life? Can I put myself through physical pain in order to give him pleasure? How much of myself do I have to sacrifice to make him feel satisfied?

Her harpy subconscious made an unwelcome appearance. If you don't do it, someone else will gladly step up to the plate.

"Oh shut up," Ana berated herself. Jesus, now I'm telling myself to shut up. Inner voice Ana. Save the outer voice for the looney bin. And while you're at it, perhaps cut back on the brandy.

But the brandy tasted pretty damn good, so she took another swig, the alcohol doing more to warm her up than the blanket ever could. She introspectively swirled the amber-colored liquor, trying to imagine anything but that manila folder of secret submissives. But in the stark evening stillness, Ana's mind invariably drifted back to the bevy of women who had shared the man she loves.

He says he didn't do anything other than fuck them, but it wasn't just a one-night stand or anonymous club encounter — he repeatedly slept with the same woman for months on end. You can't just confine your emotions to the bedroom — or playroom — no matter how much you tell yourself that 'it's just sex.' After a while, it isn't. It's more. These women knew him. They knew his body, his reactions, his temperament, his feelings, his mind. And he knew them, whether he admits it or not. There was no way he didn't converse with them at all, empathize with them. There was a connection, a spark, a mutual understanding and … affection. Even in a demented BDSM way, his 'interactions' were underlined by a fundamental sense of caring. He may have enjoyed inflicting a type of pain on them that I can't even begin to imagine, but he also kissed their lips, their breasts, their …

STOP Ana! You're torturing yourself more than any medieval sex device ever could!

Ana took a ragged, cleansing breath of air. As much as the image of Christian sharing his body with other women made her blood boil, it was his betrayal of silence that gutted her.

He kept this information from me for nearly a year. A year. I could forgive him for the women — they came before me — but how do I forget the lies? I trusted him completely, but now that trust is shattered. Every word he's ever said to me I believed verbatim. I never questioned anything. But now? All that's been destroyed and he's left me with nothing but doubt. It's the doubt I can't get over. Have I been a naïve fool for trusting this man so wholeheartedly? Have I sacrificed my independence for someone I hardly know?

As Ana mulled over her limited options, she was confronted with the harsh reality that she had grown completely dependent on Christian. He paid for her school, for her home, for the clothes on her back and even the food that she refused to eat. She was barely 19 and had hitched her entire future to an exceptional but exceedingly complicated man who had willfully concealed his past from her.

No longer able to stomach her disheartening musings or the fruit-and-cheese platter Christian had left for her, Ana finally took herself and the plate back inside.

Christian jumped when he heard the balcony door sliding open. "Oh. Hi baby. I didn't expect you to come back so soon," he said, putting down the mail he was opening back on the kitchen counter. He instantly noticed the untouched plate of food.

"Ana, I'm trying to be sensitive here but you need to eat," he scolded her with a mix of disappointment and frustration.

"I'll eat later," she dismissed him, curling up on the sofa. He jaw ticked as he suppressed his agitation.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked timidly. Please don't make me go baby.

"It's your apartment," she said in a tone laced with bitterness.

"It's our apartment Ana. Everything that's mine is yours." Including my heart so please stop trampling all over it.

"If you want to stay out here that's fine. I won't banish you to the study," Ana said, her willpower softening.

"Did you have fun with Kate?" he ventured cautiously.

"It hasn't exactly been a 'fun' few days Christian," Ana snorted. His shoulders slumped, duly chastised. "I'm pretty sure Kate wants to put your balls in one of those BDSM contraptions."

The unexpected sound of Ana's laughter, even if it was at his expense, filled him with joy and Christian promptly seized his chance to sit next to her on the couch. He kept a safe distance but relished the feel of her being so close to him after three wretched days apart.

She eyed him speculatively. "I didn't share the gory details if that's what you're afraid of. She doesn't know about your lifestyle or anything like that. I wouldn't do that to you. I just told her that you weren't completely honest with me about your past and that you had hurt me."

Christian felt his chest constrict as his breathing grew labored. "I know baby and I hate myself for hurting you," he whispered. "I understand if you need to talk with your friend, but thank you for not divulging everything since she is dating my brother. I appreciate it."

Ana grunted but otherwise remained resolutely mute.

"Are you going back to class Monday?"

"I don't have a choice. Finals are coming up."

"Do you need help passing professor Canard's econ test?"

"No I need a miracle," she replied, taciturn and terse. Christian plowed ahead. This was the most Ana had spoken to him in nearly three days and he wasn't going to squander this precious reprieve.

"I can't deliver miracles but I can help you bone up on free-market capitalism and supply-and-demand models. Numbers and business are my forte. Real life and people, not so much — as you're well aware."

She quirked her brow at him but Christian detected the faint smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. He subtly leaned in, magnetically drawn to her. Ana kept her eyes firmly fixed on her lap but her body felt the scorch of his gaze.

"I'm painfully aware of your … deficiencies when it comes to matters of the heart."

"I didn't have one until you came along," he said earnestly, scooting in as close as he could without spooking her away.

Ana sighed. And now you're breaking mine.

She didn't need to say it out loud — Christian saw the condemnation written all over her face. No longer able to keep the tide of his regret at bay, he began to unravel, tears threatening to swamp him yet again.

"I'm so incredibly sorry," he rasped, his voice raw and stripped to the bone. "Please Ana. I'm begging you to find it in your heart to forgive me. I will never, ever break it again. Please, you have to believe me. This separation is fucking killing me!"

The crushing vulnerability of his plea finally broke down the walls Ana had carefully constructed over the last few days. Every time she had ignored Christian, she could feel his pain as if it were a knife being twisted into the pit of her stomach. The rift between them was physically exhausting. Torn between devotion and doubt, she buried her face in her hands and began to sob uncontrollably.

"No baby. I'm sorry. Please don't cry," he beseeched her, rushing to her side. "I can't bear to see you cry for one more minute because of me."

He tenderly pried her hands away from her tear-streaked face. "Don't hide from me. I love you. Every part of you."

Looming over her as he caressed her cheeks with a feather-light touch, the bond between them was palpable — and heady. Christian snapped, no longer able to repress his inherent need for the woman who had captured his soul.

He slammed his lips on top of hers, craving her taste, her very essence. Ana reciprocated and opened her mouth to him, the haze of lust clouding her judgment. Their teeth clashed and their tongues dueled with each other, insatiable after a three-day absence.

"God yes," Christian gritted, his weight swallowing her petite frame as he frantically reacquainted himself with every part of her body that his hands could get a hold of. "I missed you. So. Damn. Much."

Ana wanted to deny him and her feelings, but her body instinctually molded to his, two dysfunctional halves of a whole that somehow functioned better together than apart.

"I want you so much," he garbled out between needy, wet kisses, his tongue exploring every crevice of her mouth while his greedy hands roamed her torso, squeezing and kneading her breasts.

Christian tore his lips away to nibble on the supple swell of her neck, his movements born of an urgency to reconnect with the woman who was a refuge to him — the one person who could shelter him from the storm of the outside world.

His breaths were hot and heavy, his rock-hard erection stabbing her almost to the point of pain. Christian dragged his lips back onto hers, kissing her with wild abandon — his tongue probing and demanding. The low rumble from his chest resonated in Ana's groin and a flood of moisture escaped her traitorous body. His desperation was disarming and Ana found herself yielding to it.

Caving to temptation, she wrapped her legs around him and granted him access to the place he coveted most. His stiff member began to grind into her core relentlessly, igniting every cell in her body.

She was responsive and drenched, making him so hard for her it hurt. Unable to withstand the throbbing ache any more, Christian clumsily fumbled with his jeans, releasing his massive erection with an audible sigh.

Disoriented herself, all Ana could concentrate on was relieving the ache between her own legs. The soft sounds of her keening were like music to Christian's ears. "I need to be inside you" was all he could get out as he violently yanked down her yoga pants and panties, trying not to accidentally scratch her delicate skin in his haste. As soon as her pants were barely past her knees, Christian nestled himself between her legs and slid into her without preamble or patience.

Shaky and sweaty, Christian stilled to recover from the blinding euphoria of being one with his love again.

Her lips parted to accommodate her accelerated breathing, Ana finally surrendered to the feeling of completion that Christian inspired. She knew it was wrong but she needed to feel him inside of her, filling the empty void that had been gnawing away at her for days.

When he looked down into her sapphire orbs, she gave him her trademark shy smile. Christian's heart soared and he thought it might burst at any moment.

"Are you alright?" he managed to utter, his chest heaving with the exertion of holding back.

"Yes," she moaned. I'm also weak and pathetically horny.

Her name a benediction on his lips, Christian began to thrust in and out of her warmth with laser-like focus, his body dominating and reclaiming its other half.

"Oh fuck," she gritted as she cradled him closer. His enormous size and girth had always overwhelmed her, but this time he felt even larger than usual. It was as if she could feel every inch of his thick member as he pulsed and swelled inside of her. With rapt fascination, she watched as the sinewy muscles on his back flexed and worked overtime to take everything her body had to give him.

Murmuring words of devotion against the milky hollow of her throat, Christian began to batter his cock into her, his movements driven by a desperate ferocity she had rarely witnessed before.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he said before crashing his lips down on hers. His tongue hungrily feasted on her mouth as pumped in and out of her, his control in tatters.

"Love. You. Only. You," he chanted as he rammed into her mercilessly.

Ana reciprocated, tightening her legs around him as she gave herself over to the man who had captured her heart.

"Take me Christian," she whispered in his ear, obliterating the last of his control.

"Fuck, I'm sorry baby," he gasped, struggling for air, every muscle in his neck chorded and taunt. "I can't … I can't hold off …"

He slammed his eyes shut to delay his pending release but it was no use as he erupted into one of the most intense orgasms he'd ever experienced. "Oh Jesus," he screamed, fisting her hair roughly as he detonated like a freight train inside her silken walls. Ana felt the reverberations of his muffled screams against her shoulders, both warming and chilling her to the bone.

Christian's body jerked for a solid minute, gripped by a never-ending climax that both robbed him of coherent thought yet at the same time replenished his soul. Ana held his quaking body tightly, her nurturing instincts kicking in. In the sanctuary of his arms, she found a temporary respite from the problems that had plagued them. If only we could stay like this forever.

Sweat had soaked through their shirts, their breathing was erratic and their bodies continued to tremble from their explosive encounter. When sense finally returned to him, Christian began to nuzzle and kiss Ana's neck as he gently pulled out of her. His lips ghosted down her breastbone and descended past her naval as he hummed in appreciation. He was eager to worship every inch of her body for the rest of the night and make up for the one-sided pleasure he'd just experienced.

As he reached the apex of her thighs, his ultimate destination now clear, Ana tensed, pulling the discarded blanket over her to cover her naked vulnerability.

His brows knitted together in confusion. "What's wrong baby? Let me finish and take care of you."

"No Christian. Please don't. That's not what I want," she said, the fog of sex dissipating as the reality of their situation crept back in.

He quickly tore himself off of her. "Ana, I … I don't understand. We … I thought you wanted to do that," he said, alarmed by the prospect that he'd forced her into something she wasn't prepared to do.

"I did want to do that," she reassured him, quickly tugging her pants back up. "But that doesn't mean I was right for wanting what I did. It doesn't make things right between us.

Her change of heart eviscerated what was left of Christian's sanity. He tucked his now flaccid member back in, zipped up his pants and began to pace the room, his hands furiously combing through his just-fucked hair.

"Talk about some fucking mixed signals Ana! What the hell was that?"

Ana visibly shrank. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, head bent down in shame. "That was my fault. I shouldn't have allowed that to happen."

In two long strides he was back in front of her, clasping her chin in his hand to tilt her head up.

"Yes you should have," he said forcefully. "I love you. You love me. And we should be together!"

"It's not that simple Christian," she said ruefully.

"It can be if you just let it," he yelled, releasing her chin in exasperation as he resumed pacing the room. "Can't we resolve this already? You just let me fuck you for God's sake but you won't forgive me. Where's the logic in that shit? It's my past. I can't change it. What's done is done!"

Ana bristled at his dismissive attitude, her anger back with a vengeance. "That's the biggest cop-out ever. Imagine if I had the past — if I slept with over a dozen guys — and I tried to feed you that lame-ass line. Imagine for one second being bombarded with pictures of me sucking some…"

"ENOUGH! I get it Anastasia," he seethed, the mere thought so repugnant he felt ill. "I don't need you to paint a fucking visual for me."

"Then quit with the double standards and don't be surprised when I get a wee bit upset over your colorful past. Hell, you have a problem with me going to a damn sorority party with Kate, but I'm just supposed to be honky dory with the fact that you did God knows what with God knows whom."

"Anastasia, why do you feel the need to get drunk at a rowdy party to experience college?" he demanded in an attempt to turn the tables on her.

"Ummm, because it's college and that's what normal people do." Nice deflection Grey but it's not going to fly.

"Being normal is overrated — as are frat parties," he muttered contemptuously.

"I'm going to put your arbitrary definitions of 'normal' and SORIORITY — not FRAT — parties aside for now Christian. The point is that you went off and 'explored' your sexuality and sowed your wild BDSM oats, but now you're trying to limit my experiences, no matter how harmless they are."

"What the fuck are you hinting at?" he roared, startling her. "You want to sow your wild fucking oats? You want to 'experience' another man's dick in you?" Christian's jaw was set so tightly Ana thought he might inadvertently chip a tooth.

"No Christian. Calm down! As usual you take two and two and get 44. I want to go to an innocent party every once in a while and hang out with people my own age."

"I've done the party scene Anastasia and there's nothing innocent about it. It's not for you," he informed her condescendingly.

"Would you like to also eat dinner for me while you're at it? That way I don't ever have to sample food since you've already tasted it for me."

"Don't be stupid Anastasia."

"Don't be irrational Christian," she parried back.

He threw her a murderous glare. "I don't appreciate your sarcasm."

"Consider us even because there's a ton of crap I don't appreciate about you right now. For one thing, you want to shelter me from enjoying college because of your own paranoia."

"I want to protect you from drunk frat guys — yes. I won't allow you to place yourself in a compromising position and I make absolutely zero apologies for that," he shrugged.

"Which is the height of hypocrisy considering that all I'm asking for is to be in a room with people of the opposite sex — not in a 'compromising position' with them. Meanwhile, remind me what you did with the opposite sex when you were younger? Oh yeah, that's right. You beat and flogged them! Not to mention the fact that you're still cozy with the woman who beat and flogged you — and took advantage of your mother's generosity in the process."

Christian rounded on Ana, planting his hands on either side of the couch as he loomed above her, a menacing snarl on his face. A part of him still felt protective toward Elena, but more than that, he despised Ana's characterization of her as a child molester because it implied that he was a hapless victim.

Ana flinched under his withering stare but didn't blink, her eyes alight with molten fire as the two engaged in a silent showdown. After a minute, Christian finally spoke, his voice ominously low.

"Anastasia, I'm warning you. Don't go there. I'm not 'cozy' with Elena and you're way out of line commenting on her relationship with my mother. That's none of your business. For the last fucking time, stay out of it."

"No, I'm warning you," Ana spat out scornfully, refusing to back down. "If you dare defend that woman and insult me one more time, so help me God I will walk out that door right now and never look back."

The vehemence in her voice surprised him. Christian opened his mouth but exerted enough restraint to close it when it dawned on him that she might carry through on her threat. He stepped back but his concession did little to mollify Ana's pique.

"You have such gall Christian. You throw a hissy-fit when I so much as talk to another man. Meanwhile, you expect me to just roll over and accept your sick friendship with Elena."

"Elena is not the monster you keep painting her out to be and, may I remind you, I ceased all communications with her because it made you uncomfortable. So — at your own instigation — she is technically a former friend."

"And apparently your former pimp," Ana said, scrunching her nose in disgust, as if the room was filled with noxious fumes.

"Yes Anastasia — get over it already! We've been through this countless times. She was a positive influence on my life. She taught me discipline. She handpicked submissives for me. Good lord, get it through your thick skull that what we had at the time worked for both of us and now it's over. Your immaturity level about this is astounding. Why do you insist on making this into such a big deal?"

"That's what I'm talking about," Ana yelled, her jaw slack in incredulity. "How can you be so blasé about this? It IS a big deal to me, because quite frankly, it's fucking weird. Excuse me but I just can't wrap my head around the fact that a former lover hired a harem of women to share my boyfriend."

"The only thing I shared with other women was a bed — and most of the time it was barely that," he fired back matter-of-factly. "Is that harsh? Sure. I'm a red-blooded male who had needs. I make no excuses for it."

"You're also pretty cold-hearted when you want to be," she mumbled, averting his gaze. Christian spied the flicker of hurt in Ana's eyes and regretted his blunt words.

"I'm sorry. My point is that we didn't share anything other than sex."

"They also shared your time," she huffed glumly.

"And we share a life," he exclaimed, pointing his finger between the two of them in an exaggerated fashion, his nerves shot. "The only thing they shared was my dick. You wanted the truth. There it is Ana, in all its unvarnished glory. The truth is it's called fucking. A lot of people do it."

She glowered at him, indignation coursing through her. "No shit Sherlock. Don't patronize me. That's what we just did as well."

"No Ana. What I just did was lose myself in my girlfriend whom I love, respect and adore. Before her, I fucked submissives who were a means to an end."

The feminist in her cringed, but Ana opted to hold off on giving her boyfriend a long-overdue lesson in women's rights. "Well, whatever your definition of fucking, you did a lot of it," she griped.

"Yes I did," he thundered. "I got off and I got them off in the process. We fucked in ways you can't even begin to imagine. Is that what you want to hear? Happy now?"

"Thrilled," she grumbled, pulling the blanket protectively around her as she crossed her arms, reinforcing the barrier between them. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Christian.

"What do you want me to do Ana?" he barked. "Go back and delete my past? Unless you can build a fucking time machine, then learn to accept that I had sex before you. I didn't treat those women like shit but I also sure as hell didn't give two shits about them either. They served a purpose and when it was over…"

"You discarded them," Ana said, a somber tinge to her voice that jolted him out of his rage.

Christian expelled a panged breath, realizing that Ana's empathy was directed not at him but at the women he used. In that second, he wished he could erase not only his past, but the disappointment in his girlfriend's eyes.

He took a seat next to her on the couch, his posture contrite and conciliatory. "Baby, I was a different man before you," he began softly. "I'm not necessarily proud of who that man was but it was how I operated. It was all I knew — until you came along and changed everything I thought I knew about myself."

The intensity of his stare temporarily threw her off kilter and Ana couldn't come up with a smart rebuke. She fiddled with the frayed edges of the blanket while Christian capitalized on her silence.

"Why do you let these phantom women get to you? Why do you let your insecurities get the best of you?" he asked gently. "They're no threat to you — nor is Elena. Up until last night, I hadn't seen or spoken to her in months and I have no intention of contacting her. She's out of my life. You are my entire life. All I care about is you. It's been that way from the second I laid eyes on you. Can't you see what you've done to me — how much you've altered my entire existence? You not only gave me a life — you make me look forward to actually living it every day. I love hearing your voice, making you laugh, knowing all your little mannerisms and idiosyncrasies. I love that you order margaritas just so you can lick the salt off the rim. I love that you get equally excited whenever you hear a song from a boy band in the '90s or a jazz song from the '20s. Did you know that you pucker your lips when you're trying to concentrate or that you let out a high-pitched wheeze when you sleep?"

Her lips twitched, encouraging him to continue his monologue.

"I wake up in the morning and the first thing I want to do is look over to see your crazy, mussed-up hair and groggy eyes, even if you're crabby and bite my head off for waking you up five minutes early. Any time something happens — funny, annoying, bad or good — you're the first person I want to share it with. And at the end of the day, I can't wait to see you, talk to you and then hold you in my arms before we go to sleep. I want to spend every day with you until my last breath."

A lone tear trickled down Ana's cheek. Sensing the tide had finally turned in his favor, Christian reached over and covered her hand with his as he pressed on with his heartfelt soliloquy.

"You've brought me a kind of solace I'd only ever dreamed of. Hell, do you even know how many hours I've spent just watching you sleep in our bed? It calms me. And it's not just peace that you've brought me in our bed," he winked, his voice thick with arousal. Ana imperceptibly squeezed her thighs together but Christian picked up on it. Emboldened by her response, he lovingly stroked her cheek, relieved when she didn't recoil from his touch.

"You have nothing — and I mean nothing — to worry about in that department. I mean fuck Ana. Look at what you do to me — the effect that you have. You turn me on like no one ever has or ever will. You obliterate all of my self-control. I could climb inside of you and die a happy man. I can't even be this close to you without wanting you. Just look at me," he said, crudely motioning to his still-significant erection. "I could make love to you for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be enough for me!"

A flash of red seared her cheeks, but this time she wouldn't be swayed by her boyfriend's charismatic declarations of love.

"It's not just the women Christian," she sighed. "I can't deny that they're definitely a part of it. Even though I know I'm being petty and obsessing over something that neither of us can change, I'm only human, so of course your previous sex life intimidates me. It would be a lot for anyone to take on. Granted, most people have a past, but yours isn't exactly typical. You didn't just sleep with women — you made them submit to you. You had them sign intricate contracts that dictated their actions and transformed them into robots whose sole purpose was to please you. They were vessels, not people. I understand that's exactly what they signed up for and they derived pleasure from it, but it just feels dehumanizing and creepy to an outsider like me. It adds this whole new dimension to your life that up until a few days ago I never knew existed."

"That's not fair. You knew I practiced BDSM when we met Ana," he quietly pointed out.

"I know, but it still confounds me. The contracts added this impersonal layer to you that I wasn't prepared for. One-night flings I can handle — I accepted those. But I can't fathom how you didn't develop some kind of attachment after months of sleeping with the same woman."

"We didn't exactly…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You didn't sleep," she pre-empted him, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Yes I do," he exhaled. "It's hard to describe baby. I cared for them in a general sense. I felt that ensuring their well-being was my obligation as their dom. But otherwise, there wasn't a deep-seated attachment and the minute I sensed one forming, I backed off. Because I didn't love them. They weren't meant for me. It sounds simplistic but it's true. When I met you, I fell in love and I changed. I don't understand why women make things so complicated. You're the one I want. I don't know what else you want me to say."

"I'll ignore the dig about lumping all women together and I accept that you changed. I get that the women are my issue to get over and not yours," Ana relented, resigned on the matter. "But that's not the crux of what's bothering me."

Christian swallowed anxiously. "Then what baby? What is it? Talk to me so we can put this crap behind us."

"Isn't it obvious?

He gawked at her, genuinely dumbfounded, which only amped up her frustration.

How the fuck can he be this oblivious? Ana flung the blanket off of her and defiantly stood in front of him.

"It's the lies Christian! For nearly a year you hid the truth from me. A solid year Christian! It's not like I never asked you either. But whenever the subject came up, you stonewalled me or skirted around it. I always just assumed you weren't comfortable talking about BDSM or Elena, but now I realize it's because you were deliberately keeping this huge part of your past — of your personality — from me. I can wrap my mind around the women — but I can't figure out why you couldn't trust me enough to just tell me the truth!"

"I wanted to Ana," he swore, standing up to face her. "A million times. Hell, that's why I initially started seeing Flynn."

Ana astutely picked up on his slip, narrowing her eyes at him. "And what pray tell did he advise you?"

"To tell you," he reluctantly admitted.

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because my fear of losing you overrode my desire to be honest with you. I've explained this to you before," he said, increasingly irritated with this line of questioning.

"That's no excuse. You've should've known this would eventually blown up in your face — spectacularly I might add. You're way smarter than this. I mean, were you ever going to tell me or were you just going to cover this up for the rest of our lives?"

"I was going to tell you eventually," he mumbled.

"When?" Ana persisted. "After we were married?" She arched a sarcastic brow at him until she saw the guilt-ridden expression on his face.

"Whoa, back the truck up! Were you planning to trick me into marrying you?" she asked, horrified.

Christian froze. Well, forget about another fuck in your future now Grey. You've just screwed yourself — royally.

"Ana I'd never 'trick' you into marrying me," he replied, growing heated again. "I would hope that you'd marry me because I'm the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. I would hope you'd walk down the aisle knowing that your husband is committed to honoring and cherishing you for the rest of his days."

"What about vowing to be honest?"

Christian faltered, knowing he was on shaky ground. I kinda, sorta was honest doesn't really have the same ring to it.

"It was never my intention to deceive you," he began, steeling himself for her inevitable rebuttal.

"That was precisely your intention," Ana said, flailing her arms in frustration. "It was your intention every time this topic came up and you failed to mention it. It was your intention when you saw a psychiatrist and ignored his advice. It was your intention when this was eating away at you but you chose to stay silent." Incensed, she went for the jugular. "A lie by omission is the most cowardly type of lie."

Christian winced but quickly regained his poise. "Wanting to protect the woman I love is not cowardly Anastasia."

"It is when you dupe the woman you supposedly love!"

"Enough damn it," he bellowed, towering over her, the veins in his neck pulsing. "I'm done with this conversation. I've apologized, I've groveled and I've let you get away with saying a lot of bullshit Anastasia, but don't ever fucking question my love or my loyalty toward you."

But that's exactly what she was doing — the realization hitting them both at the same time like a visceral punch to the gut.

"How can I not Christian?" she croaked, her voice trembling. "How can I not question what you say to me? Do you think I want to doubt my boyfriend? I've always felt like we could confide in each other no matter what, but now there's this nagging voice in my head that wonders what else you've conveniently left out because of your fears. It's a slippery slope. Would you ever cheat on me and keep that from me because you were scared it would result in losing me?"

"I would never," Christian stammered, his eyes as wide as saucers — aghast that she could even entertain such a notion.

"In my heart, I don't believe you would do that either. But here's the thing — I don't know what to believe any more. We've overcome so much but this is different. It's irrevocably shaken my faith in you and that can't be restored because you swear on the Bible not to lie to me again. I know you want to protect me. But I've got to protect myself as well," she said, dramatically jabbing her finger into her chest. "I can't continue to be naïve because it could wind up destroying me and my future. I've always believed every word you've ever told me, but now — how? Tell me. How can I?"

Christian had no more words to win her over — the color and fight drained out of him.

"I don't know Ana," he said despondently.

"I don't either."