A/N: Wow, just shy of 1500 reviews! That blows my mind. I know I'm really slack at replying to your reviews, but please know that I read and appreciate every single one. It's a busy time for me here but I'll try to keep the updates regular, but don't expect updates every few days :(
As for the chapter, I hope you all enjoy it. Exciting things coming up :)
Jen - Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Take 29 - Nominations
Soundtrack: Feist - Fire in the water
APOV
My chest is heaving and my are eyes wide with an emotion I can't quite pinpoint; something between nervousness and excitement; and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared also, maybe a bit of trepidation mixed with wild arousal. Add all of those together and I've got myself a heady cocktail foaming at the brim and about ready to spill over.
Christians's thumb remains in my mouth, forcing my jaw to remain open, keeping my mouth available to please him as he wants. My eyes dart sideways trying to catch a glimpse at his face. What I do see causes a surge of desire to flood every inch of my body. His gaze is intense, predatory, and I've never felt so desired. His lips are twitching with a palpable hunger and his nostrils are flaring with every harsh inhale.
His hold on my jaw tightens as he leans in to kiss me. I'm expecting him to let my jaw go but he doesn't, instead he glides his tongue into my mouth and runs it along the roof - slowly, painfully slowly and I shudder, my body heated and on full alert.
My hands rise, ready to grab hold of his head and hold him to me, but he pulls away before I get a chance.
"Get on your knees." His voice, although colder than usual, has my heart pounding rapidly and my core throbbing deliciously.
With this thumb having been removed from my mouth, I am free to tilt my head to his. My eyes immediately catching his, and those stormy gray windows of emotion show me everything. I love you. Trust me. And I do. I really do.
I run my tongue across my lips, seeking some moisture on the dry flesh as I lower myself to the plush cream carpet.
Christian's shadow looms above me, unmoving. I can hear his sharp intakes and feel his cool exhales breeze across my back.
Suddenly he's kneeling behind me, his fingers dancing over my shoulders. "I'd never hurt you Ana. I'd hurt myself before you... But there's a thin line between pain and pleasure."
"Okay. I trust you Christian." My mouth opens involuntary, obviously a step ahead of my brain. My voice is small, meek, but reassuring enough to have him continue.
With his hand resting open and flat on my head, he stands and walks around to my front; his bulging groin prominent inside the constraint of his jeans directly in my line of vision. His legs are parted, his thighs tensed with need. The perfectly defined muscles of his abdomen are sucked in with each heavy breath and the atmosphere swirling between us is thick with longing and a craving for each other. This is it. This is what I've been pushing for.
"Undress me," he demands, his hand still firmly planted on the top of my head; keeping me from looking up to see his face. My fingers are itching to touch him, so I jump at the invitation, thrusting my hands forward to his jeans. The button has already been popped open so I fumble with the zipper; my over-enthusiastic fingers yanking the silver toggle at a weird angle causing it to catch on the fabric.
His fingers tighten on my scalp, gathering my hair together and using the tight hold to angle my head up. "Slow down," his eyes gleam with amusement but quickly it dissolves back to dark heated gray and promises of naughty, naughty things.
Having had my head released, I quickly resume the task of undressing my man. I successfully lower the zipper, teasing him a little by running the tip of my finger down his length as I do. "Don't touch," he barks, "not until I say you can."
"Yes, Sir," I say, doing a miserable job of hiding the teasing tone of my voice. God, I just can't help myself today.
"Ana, Ana, Ana." He scolds, his head shaking from side to side slowly, threateningly even. "When will you learn." It's a statement, not a question and his tone has my core clenching with need. He's on his haunches in an instant, his eyes locked with mine, his mouth curled up with a salacious grin.
"Don't push me, baby. I'm hanging on by a thread as it is." He raises his hand, stroking my jaw tenderly with his knuckles. "Now is not the time for your smart mouth." He pushes himself back up to full height after pressing his lips to mine softly. "Let's keep that mouth occupied. Now undress me." He repeats his command from earlier.
I don't hesitate, running my hands up his thighs, over his stomach then back down to hook my fingers into the top of his jeans. Slipping my hands beneath the denim I push the fabric down his legs; my hands skimming his toned thighs and leaving the bunched denim at his knees.
The hardness beneath his boxer briefs grows noticeably causing my mouth to water and my hands eager to release him. I pull his briefs down, freeing his erection from the constraining fabric. The moan that breaks free of my mouth surprises even me; the low growl of appreciation echoing around the room.
"Fuuucck!," Christian groans. "You like that," He grits through his teeth as I grab hold of the base and squeeze him, "I want to see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock..."
I oblige, happily, parting my lips and running my tongue up the entire length of him, flicking the tip teasingly. He twitches in my hand urging me to continue - which I do, eagerly.
I take him in my mouth, licking, sucking and moaning; any restraint I may have had long gone. I want to please him. I want to make him see stars and have him yell my name for the rest of the hotel to hear how much I please him.
"Slow down," He growls, but his words are choked, raw with need -indicating he loves what I'm doing, exactly how I'm doing it. When I fail to obey him; my hand fisting tighter, stroking faster, my mouth consuming him with a passion only he can ignite in me; his hands fly out to grab my wrists and I'm being yanked to my feet, all of the air leaving my lungs in surprise.
After pulling up his jeans, and with a hand pressed firmly on my back, and another still holding my wrists I am led across the living area of the hotel room and into the bedroom.
"Perfect," Christian mutters behind me having stopped at the threshold of the room. My guess is that he approves of the brass headboard.
"Get on the bed, face up," He gives my back a small push in the direction of the bed but must change his mind and grabs hold of my hand and pulls me back to him instead.
Cupping my face his kisses me; my legs turning to jelly at the intensity and possessive nature. He doesn't hold back, devouring my mouth with slow, gentle licks but fierce, consuming bites and sucks. My breaths turn to whimpers; his hands being the only things keeping me from falling to the ground in a puddle of useless mush.
Christian breaks the kiss as abruptly as he started it, taking a second to gaze into my eyes before stalking off toward the bathroom and leaving me breathless and alone.
It takes a moment for my senses to return to their usual state. I shake myself off and do as I'm told; crawling onto the bed and lying back. The ceiling stares back at me, a bright white doing nothing to distract or occupy me as I wait. No tiles to count or patterns to trace, just white.
After what seems like an hour, but more likely a few minutes, he emerges from the bathroom, bathrobe in hand and something concealed in his jeans pocket.
He stops just before the bed and holds a hand up, his forefinger pointing towards the ceiling. Making a circular motion with his finger he commands me to turn over without saying a word. His eyes narrow as I lick my lips, but I turn over and lay on my stomach. Breathing in the scent of lavender wafting from the sheets, I relax as much as I can, hold my breath and wait for - what will no doubt be - a wild ride.
Rustling and banging can be heard, but I have no clue what he's doing. The noise is soon drowned out by a haunting piano melody. He's put his iPod on.
With my eyes closed and focusing on the music - lyrics of fire in the water caressing my ears; it's not until soft fingers reach the ticklish spot behind my knee, do I realise that I'm no longer alone on the bed.
A hand on each of my legs skim up my thighs slowly, thumbs digging into my flesh. They travel up beneath the fabric of my panties, where he flexes his fingers and kneads the pliable flesh with the pads of his thumbs.
Relaxing into his soothing motions, I sigh, letting myself melt into the bed only to jerk my head up when my ass radiates with heat, the stinging pain of his rigid hand smacking my flesh causing something between a scream and a pleasure induced moan to escape my lips. It hurt, I'm not going to lie, but it felt good. Too good. I find my bum wiggling on its own to request another slap.
"Fuck, baby. You like that don't you." His hands begin to massage my thighs as his mouth licks and nips at the reddened flesh. "Look at you, writhing and moaning for more." Another slap has my mouth opening but no noise escaping. He's never hit me this hard. I love it. All the nerve endings in my body are tingling with sensation, screaming for touch, any type of touch. Pleasure, pain. I want it all, I need it all - from him.
He crawls above my body and takes each hand in turn and ties it to the brass headboard. When I'm secured tightly, he shuffles back, grabbing my ankles and pulling me down the bed causing the restraint on my wrists to tighten and grip my skin.
"Christian..." His name leaves my lips on a pant.
"Hush, baby." I feel his body hover over mine then his lips are kissing the nape of my neck. "I'm going to blindfold you, but I want to hear you react to me so I'm going to leave your mouth free. What's your safe word?"
"Truffles." I whisper, turning my head to the side so he can hear me.
"Good girl," lifting my head gently he places one of my scarfs over my eyes as a makeshift blindfold. He secures it firmly at the back of my head, being careful not to get my hair caught in a knot.
"It makes me so hard seeing you like this," he pushes his cock into my back, rolling his hips so that I can feel him.
Beyond the capability of speech, I whimper, arching my hips up to meet his roll. The act results in another spank, softer than the last but equally arousing.
"Please," I manage, begging him to do something, anything to take the edge off.
"I said, don't talk." His sharp tone silences me, then he's gone. I feel the dip of the bed as he crawls off leaving me breathless and wanting yet again.
When he returns, he grabs hold of my hips, pulling my torso off the bed and bending my knees. With my ass now in the air and my cheek firmly planted to the mattress I am open to him, exposed and vulnerable. His hands grip my ass cheeks firmly and his tongue runs over the flesh; painting a trail of wetness that ends with a hard bite.
Chilled liquid slides down my back as I shiver; a trail dribbling down over my sex where Christian positions his mouth to catch, lick and devour. His tongue laps and circles slowly and I am helpless to him; a panting, whimpering mess.
"Please," I beg on a drawn out breath, my hips pushing myself harder against his mouth. The single word earns me a slap to my core, the tip of his finger hitting my heated bundle of nerves. My body is wound tight, seeking release.
As if reading my mind and wanting to punish me he slides two fingers into my aching sex and pumps hard - twice; taking me to the precipice, then leaving me alone once again before I have a chance to fall into a beautiful oblivion.
Trickles of sweat run down my neck, every inch of my body shaking with an urgency that's not being fulfilled. Just take me damn it!
I suck in a breath, a bit of heat momentarily pinching the skin on my back. Then again and again. A path trickling down my spine, one pinch after another. The feeling is not painful, uncomfortable maybe, if only for a second at a time. Wax maybe?
The slight stings stop and his hands grab at my thighs, straightening my legs so that I am lying flat so he can turn me over, my arms twisting as he settles me into my back. I can feel his breath against my chest, his face above my breasts but he doesn't touch me.
"Kiss me," the way the request leaves my mouth would be embarrassing if I didn't know this man intimately. Raw and primal. A woman craving her man fiercely.
"Mmmm," He hums, running his lips across my jaw, "I don't kiss su..." He begins, and I know what he's going to say. I thrash my head to the side away from him putting distance between us and effectively stopping his sentence.
His fingers grab my chin and force my face back to meet his. "I'm not your sub," I seethe, angry at him for placing me in the same category as them.
"No you're not." He sounds apologetic, worried almost. "You're my everything." I sense his lips moving closer to mine so I turn my head again, forcing his fingers to let go of my chin and getting my mouth away from his. He growls from low in his throat and takes firmer hold of my face, bringing it back to his where he proceeds to kiss me. I tuck my lips in pressing them together tightly and restricting his access. Suddenly his finger pinches my clit hard and I'm gasping in shock. Taking the opportunity to attack my open mouth he angles his lips over mine and kisses me - hard.
"I'm sorry," He breathes, slowing the kiss down and cherishing my tongue with his. Unable to deny the pleasure in it, I moan into his mouth, accepting everything he offers. We'll talk about this later!
His lips eventually leave mine to pave a line of kisses down to my breasts. He pinches, tugs, kisses and bites until I can barely stand it. If my hands were free, I'd be pulling his hair out in frustration right now.
When I can take it no more and I'm about to scream at him to 'fuck me already' he moves back, grabbing something from the table beside the bed. Moments later he's thrusting two fingers inside me at the same time that the heated pinches that trailed my back start on my breasts. Definitely candle wax. He's dripping the wax onto my nipples and the pleasure, combined with the working of his fingers in my pussy is utterly maddening. My release is so close but just out of reach.
"Christian, please!" I resort to begging again. My whole body is shaking, desperate and writhing wildly. The ties on my hands are pinching my skin causing me to wince.
"Hey... Baby, settle down." Gentle hands stroke my face, pacifying me, calming my harsh breathing. "I'll take care of you. I'll always take care of you."
I draw in deep breaths, focusing on his fingers which are still working my core; twisting, turning, sliding and circling.
I nearly cry when his fingers abandon me, in fact I'm about to kick him with my foot out of pure, desperate frustration when slippery fingers glide across my mouth. "Suck." I open my mouth to receive his fingers, wrapping my tongue around them and licking hungrily. The pleasure laced growl of approval coming out of his mouth has me lifting my hips, seeking his heat. Oh god.
"Spread your legs, baby." He demands, settling himself between my thighs. His impressive length rests on my belly, hard and hot.
His hands grab hold of my legs and place them over his shoulder, angling my core upwards. "Your greedy little pussy is swollen for me," his thumb finds my clit and rubs slow circles. My hips buck and roll with pleasure. 'I'm going to fuck you so hard." His erection teases my entrance, barely pushing in then repeatedly withdrawing .
"Just fuck me!" I cry, being pushed beyond my limit of patience.
His thumb leaves my clit and seconds later I'm getting tilted slightly to the side and being spanked. One. Twice. Three. Four times. Slap. Slap. Slap.
My chest expands as I suck in air. A tear slides down my cheeks, not due to the pain, but the overwhelming frustration.
And then it happens. He pushes his erection inside me so achingly slowly that my body convulses, exploding with the pure pleasure of finally having him. My mind goes blank, my breath hitches in my throat and my eyes roll back. I am floating, incoherent, blown to oblivion and shaking uncontrollably. Pleasure, absolute heaven.
"You're so fucking sexy when you come." He's thrusting hard, gripping my hips painfully.
"Christian..." I whimper, trying to focus on his face, my mind still foggy.
"Again, baby. Again."
"I can't..." I cry out, my core too sensitive.
"Yes you can." He growls, relentless with his powerful drives.
"No..." I shake my head.
"You can, and you will!" He barks, tightening his grip on my hips and driving me up the bed with a violent thrust.
"Ahhhh..." My breathing is so erratic my lungs have resorted to short bursts and gasps.
"Damn it Ana, Now!" He yells as a hand reaches out to pinch my over-sensitive nub. And despite my reluctance to let go, I can't control it. White heat floods every inch of me and I explode spectacularly, screaming his name while squeezing his neck with my calves.
When I come to, exhausted and shivering Christian is lying above me, his weight pushing me into the bedding. I would think he was asleep if I wasn't for his erratic breathing.
"You're shivering." He chokes, his voice still raw from exertion. He places a soft lingering kiss on my lips before forcing himself up. My wrists are released carefully, his hands massaging every inch of my arms and hands, getting the blood flow started. Next he removes my blindfold. I don't open my eyes, I don't think I can.
Leaving me alone for a second, he comes back, nudging me awake and holding out one of my sheer white sleeveless gym tops.
"Put this on." His dominating, bossy demeanour having been replaced with doting boyfriend. "Baby, you're shaking like a leaf."
Pulling me upright, he slides the t-shirt over my head, leaving me to push my arms through. I do so while he sits on the edge of the bed, eyeing me cautiously. His eyes scan my body, resting on my face.
"How was that?" He asks, looking nervous yet amused. I must look a sight; still panting like a thirsty dog, hair a mess, body still shaking from the incredible ride he's just taken me on.
"Fuck." I breathe. His eyes widen as I stalk across the bed towards him. Unsure of what to do with himself he just sits there, mouth slightly open as he waits for me to reach him.
"Ahhh..." I catch a glimpse of worry pass over his face before I tackle him to the mattress and kiss him like my life depended on it.
When I manage to peel myself off him, he's grinning. "I take it you liked it then?" I blink, nodding my head slowly with a completely satisfied grin adorning my still flushed face.
"You can do that to me again... anytime." I purr, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing myself to him. His hands palm my ass, as he lets out a sigh of relief.
"I'm loving the sex hair," he chuckles, lifting a hand to my head and ruffling up my already disheveled hair.
"Come on Mr. Sexpertise, you can help me clean up. Then we'd better head back to the house before my dad sends out a search party." His hands skim my back, his touch like velvet on my over-sensitive skin.
"Come on then." He groans reluctantly, "as much as I'd like to keep you here forever, you're right."
"I love you." I add, reassuring him that we are good. What he did was amazing, nothing like the whips and chain images I had conjured up in my head. Although, I'm sure having been a spontaneous event that he wasn't very well equipped to play as he usually would. My curiosity and fantasies of his playroom have been piqued even more.
After a soothing shower, we dress back into the clothes we left dad's in; not wanting to raise any suspicion, and head back to the car, but not before dropping the key back to Taylor. I'm glad it's him who booked the room. I can only imagine the scandalous headlines if we were to have booked a room in person; leaving the sheets scattered with droplets of candle wax and smelling of the wine he poured down my back combined with sex. Poor Taylor. As apologetic as I am for the state we left the bed, my relief at not having my name directly linked to the sheets overrides. Note to self: Next time Christian transforms into alpha mode - strip the bed first.
Not wanting to return without a realistic story, we make a detour and drive through Grass Valley so that I can point out as many attractions as I can - which isn't a lot. I don't venture out often while I'm here, wary of the public finding out where my dad lives and invading his space. Ray lives a very solitary life. He loves being alone so to bring my life to him would devastate me. I don't want my celebrity to be a burden on anyone, most of all my dad.
The sun is setting by the time we arrive back. Sawyer is sitting out on the deck alone. My cabin sits in darkness so either Kate and Elliot are inside with dad or they've left. I hope not, I was hoping to talk with Kate tonight, clear the air and let her know where my head is at.
Christian cuts the engine and turns me to him by placing a hand on the back of my neck. His face is alight with a crooked smile that has my mouth curling at the corner to mirror his satisfaction. "Thank you for this afternoon, baby." His lips brush mine and the current runs between us, so strong I can barely breath. His lips part to capture mine and desire runs hot through my veins. It takes every ounce of restraint to pull myself away.
We are only here for another night and I need to spend that time with my dad, not locked up in my room losing myself in Christian again and again. Not yet anyway. I wonder if Kate and Elliot would object to pitching a tent tonight?
Christian pulls his sweater over his head and hands it to me; using his chin to point at my wrists. The red marks left from being restrained, although light, are very much noticeable. "I don't particularly want to know if your dad's hints at owning a gun are legitimate."
"Fair enough," a little giggle leaves my mouth, "you could have just asked me. But for future reference, my dad could pierce your manhood blindfolded."
"Good to know," he winks, his mood altering in a nanosecond; from smug to nervous.
"I won't tell if you won't," I drag Christian's sweater over my head and push my arms through the sleeves, not bothering to fold them up, instead letting the fabric hang loose over my hands. The marks will fade soon, no doubt be gone within an hour.
With my red wrists concealed and Christian wrapped around me from behind, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, we walk across the gravel to dad's house.
Inside - what Christian calls the wooden room - dad and Elliot are talking up a storm watching re-runs of old football games while Kate has her head in front of her laptop and her phone wedged between her shoulder and ear. She is talking to someone excitedly, and her face breaks into a huge smile when she sees me.
"Okay... Wow... Sure... I'll talk to her and...okay...thank you." She hangs up and starts squealing, literally, jumping around and screaming; gathering the attention of everyone in the room. Sawyer pokes his head in through the ranch slider his body staunch and his eyes scanning the room furiously.
"Jesus, babe. What's up?" Elliot stands and walks over to her.
"Oh. My. God. Ana you did it!" She yells, flinging her hands in the air and rushing over to me, nearly bowling me over in the process.
"Did what?" I laugh, her mood somewhat contagious.
She holds her hand up and takes a few deep breaths, indicating she needs a minute.
She looks around the room, her eyes settling back on me. Everyone's breath hitched in their throats.
"The nominations are out." She blurts, barely containing herself.
My heart thuds in my chest with nervousness and I have to take a deep breath myself. "And?" I squeak.
She picks up a piece of paper from beside her laptop.
"Deep." She begins the paper shaking in her hands. "Up for cinematography, music - original score, original screenplay and directors. Also, actor in a supporting role - Tom Hanks, Best picture... And..."
I jump when Christians's hands clutch my shoulders. I place my hands over his and hold my breath.
"And..." Dad growls, the anticipation frustrating him.
"And Best Actress in a leading role - Anastasia Steele." Kate shouts.
Everything goes blurry. The animated noises around me sounding as though they are underwater. My hands cover my mouth, but I can't find anything to say.
"I'm so proud of you, baby!" Christian turns me around and cocoons me in his arms.
"Fuck me." I pant, trying to replenish the oxygen I lost while holding my breath.
"Mouth!" Ray booms, laughing. "Ah, fuck it. I'm fucking proud of you Annie. Come give your old dad a hug."
CPOV
I watch Ray wrap Ana in his arms, whispering in her ear and stroking her hair. I hear the word Mom, and it takes everything in me to hold back the emotions threatening to spill; knowing that in this minute, the one person Ana would want to be here to share in her news isn't. I gulp back a tear as I watch Ray wiping the steady stream falling down Ana's cheeks.
"Best leading actress!" Ana screams, turning back to me and launching herself into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist. "I mean it's only a nomination and I probably won't get it but..."
"Are you serious? Baby, any actress than can make me cry deserves a god damn award."
"It's just... Wow... To have my work recognised..." With her arms firmly roped around my neck, she buries her face in the crook of my shoulder. "I wish Mom..."
"I know, baby, I know," I rub soothing circles over her back as she lets her emotions drain by letting her tears fall freely. Tears turn into hiccups which then turn to laughter followed by a very long chain of curse words.
"Way to go Ana!" Elliot hoots, a beer held up in the air in celebration.
Ray's POV
I watch on as Annie clings to young Christian like he's her lifeline; my heart heavy with an overwhelming sense of pride.
It wasn't too long ago that my Annie clung to me like that. When Carla died, fuck, all the life in Ana's eyes drained. My heart broke a little bit more every damn day. It was only when Ana took to the stage, did that sparkly blue return. Carla's death hit us both hard, but Ana coped by stepping into the shoes of someone else on stage. For a few hours each night she could pretend that she hadn't just lost her mom, her idol.
I was worried about her for quite some time. Wondering if my letting her cope by trying to chase Carla's dreams was healthy. If Carla hadn't passed away would Ana have chosen a different path in life?
I did the best I could, raising a young girl on my own, but the doubts were always there. Should I have pushed other interests on her. Did I let her spend too much time down at the theatre? Have I raised her to be strong enough and confident enough to cope with the pressures she faces? Is she humble enough to stay grounded and true to herself?
I look at her now, bubbling into her man's shoulder; the same way Carla would have cried, elated to have even been nominated, laughing with her friends not caring about the black streaks streaming down her face, wearing an oversized sweater, drinking beer and swearing like a sailor, and I know- I did a damn fine job, and with Christian by her side, I know my Annie's going to be just fine.
"Truffles. My baby girl deserves truffles!"
