Hello Lovelies,

I hope you're all well and having a good week so far! I'm going to be fairly busy over the Christmas period but I'll try to upload when I can. Work is hectic at the moment but I'm having fun getting back into the swing of writing and editing again. :)

I hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming as soon as possible!

Much Love,

Chelsea x

Paula White – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you like this chapter too. Much Love x

Gracie – Thank you! It was a great chapter to write. As was this one! I hope you like it. Much Love x

Reds77 – Thank you! I'm proud of all of them! They've each come such a long way. I think this really is the start of them moving forward and on with their lives. Greater things are on the horizon! Much Love x

Cypher7 – Thank you! That's wonderful to hear. I'm glad you're looking forward to the next story. Much Love x

DoloresDeeHowe – Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

SuzB – Thank you! The healing has commenced. I think this is the start of much happier times for all of them. I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

It was a weekend of two halves, following my reunion with José on Friday evening.

Christian and I spent Saturday at Bellevue, lounging around with the entire Grey clan. Whilst I was a little drained from the previous night's conversation and revelations, I was more than happy to eat, drink and be merry with the Greys. I needed it. We both did.

Surprisingly, the mood was light and relaxed, despite Grace and Carrick frequently checking up on Christian to make sure he was doing okay. Their parental concern and guilt was never far away, even though he was honest in his replies. He was doing better. Things were starting to settle down again. In time, they wouldn't feel such an intense need to wrap him up in cotton wool. He wasn't a victim anymore – he's a survivor.

After a busy Saturday socialising, we opted to spend Sunday at home. Just the two of us. No airs, no graces, just quiet tranquillity. Besides, it was time to put plans into motion and knuckle down on our expectations for the apartment renovation. We had put it off for long enough and we had already lost one designer.

Although, good riddance to trash.

Going from room to room, we mapped out what we hoped to change, making notes as we went along. It was mostly cosmetic, colour schemes and furnishings taking the brunt of our upheaval. We compromised on little things, no real disagreements putting a barrier between us. As ever, we were in tune with each other, our tastes blending in perfect harmony. Our tastes compliment each other.

We finished upstairs, working our way through the apartment bottom up. The last room we entered was the soon-to-be guest bedroom.

The former sub bedroom was empty, the bed and dressers already gone, leaving just the beige drapes and a white rug. It was bare but still carried the memories of the women who had stayed in it. I took a deep breath and let it slide off my shoulders. Once the room was decorated, there would be nothing left of his former life. No hint of any other woman ever being in here. The thought was comforting. It was a much needed fresh start for us.

"I think the bed should go over there," I said, pointing to the wall adjacent to the windows. "The sun won't blind whoever is staying over that way, and they'd still get to check out the views. It seems a shame to deny anyone the chance to see the day break over the city. I love watching it."

Christian didn't say anything in return, prompting me to spin around to check he was still listening.

He was grinning at me.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smirked, shaking his head. "I agree. It makes perfect sense to put the bed there."

"Right…" I hummed, suspicious of his demeanour. "We'll need a new dresser and maybe a loveseat. Or a desk. What do you think?"

"We could do both," he offered. He pointed to the windows. "The desk could go in front, if we move the bed closer to the door to make room. And the sofa could go against this back wall. We could turn this area into a snug, have that whole corner as somewhere to sit and relax."

"You've been watching too many home reno programmes," I rolled my eyes. "I've created a monster."

He snorted a laugh.

"What about colour scheme? What do you think will work in here?"

"I don't want anything similar to our room," I shook my head. "Which rules out greys, blues and purples."

"What about cream?"

"Too boring," I dismissed, scrunching up my nose. "It'd feel like a hotel room. Not nearly cosy enough."

"Okay," he sighed. "Um… What if we offset cream with a contrast colour?"

"That could work," I agreed. "What about yellow?"

"You know I hate yellow," he grimaced.

"You hate the colour of Mia's car," I corrected him. "I'm not talking about Big Bird here, more of a lemon."

He shook his head.

"Brown?" he suggested. "Chocolate? Deep shades?"

"I want light and airy," I muttered.

"Green?"

I paused. "What kind of green?"

"Light. Nothing dark," he smirked, picking up on my previous comment. I rolled my eyes again. "How about mint green?"

I scanned the empty space and tried to imagine it, the idea growing on me.

"We could add in some gold touches too," I mumbled, more to myself than him. "Picture frames, a new rug, little trinkets to dot around?"

"Sounds great," he hummed, scribbling the notes in the pad he had been carrying around with him. He flicked through the pages. "We've got a lot to work from. We just need to find another interior designer to help bring it all together."

"In that case, we're done," I smiled.

"Thank fuck," he said, blowing out a long breath. He closed the notepad and slipped it into his back pocket. "Can we get naked now?"

"Is that all you've been thinking about?"

"Surely that's a rhetorical question," he fired back, arching his brow. "That's all I think about, period. Every minute of every day."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the bedroom, taking me back into the hall. We had just rounded the corner, heading for the stairs, when my eyes were drawn to the closed door to my left.

My feet dug into the carpet, bringing the both of us to an abrupt stop.

"What is it?" he asked, snapping his head to me.

I remained staring at the door.

"Just leave it," he shook his head. He tugged me forward. "Come on, let's go downstairs."

"Christian –"

I dragged my gaze to him and observed the concerned look that had engulfed his features.

"We haven't decided what we're going to do with that room," I reminded him. "We need to –"

"We don't," he interrupted. He attempted to move me again but I slipped my hand out from his. "Ana, please, ignore it."

"We can't leave the door locked forever, you know," I said. "That's avoidance."

He pursed his lips.

"It's just a room," I told him. I edged closer to the playroom door and rested my hand against the cold mahogany. "It's like any other room in the apartment."

"It's not though, is it?" he huffed. "That room –"

"Is ours," I interjected. "It's half mine and I want to go in there."

"You know what used to happen in there," he mumbled, sheepishly. "The subs. How I met them. The link to Elena…"

"And?" I shook my head. "I know what you did in there. I know who you used to take in there and why. I accept it, I get it, and it doesn't change anything for me."

"But –"

"We haven't even been in there," I said. "Well, we've never done anything in there before."

"For good reason, too!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're not my sub," he grumbled. "You never were and never will be."

"I know," I nodded. I paused for a moment and lowered my voice. "Does it make you think of Elena? Is that why…?"

"I've disconnected her from that," he shook his head. "She introduced me to it, but she's not the reason I enjoyed aspects of that lifestyle. I know I can still enjoy that without being reminded of her."

I smiled to myself. I knew he had been working on this with Flynn lately.

"You think you can still do that stuff? It wouldn't bother you, doing it?" I asked. He slowly nodded. "So what's stopping us from going in there? Is just the subs?"

"It's not fair to ask you to go in there with me and do the things I expected of them," he whispered. "I won't put you in that kind of position."

"Is that an innuendo?" I joked, lightening the sombre mood that had developed between us. I held out my hands to him, waiting until he slid his palms over mine. "Christian, it's okay. It doesn't upset me, thinking of them."

"It can't be easy, though."

"No, you're right, it isn't," I sighed. "But you can't change anything. Am I looking forward to getting rid of anything they may have come in contact with? Yes, of course I am. I don't want to be reminded of the fact you've had sex with other women. I think most people would feel the same."

"I'm not sure I could cope if you hadn't been a virgin when we got together."

"You would have," I shook my head.

"How can you be sure of that?" he frowned. "I'd probably want to kill any man who had his hands on you. I can't even stomach the idea of you kissing anyone else, for fuck's sake!"

"You'd get through it the same way I do," I said. "I'm constantly reassured of the fact you love me. What we have is raw and intimate and passionate. This is more than just some fling or a business arrangement. That gets me through it. That's how I can accept your past."

"Really?"

"What we have is special," I nodded. "It's unique to us. We're traditional in some ways and a little kinky in others."

He dithered as he pondered his next question.

"You're still interested in the kinkier side?"

"I liked it," I told him, nodding proudly. I felt no shame in admitting it. "The stuff we tried… the spanking… you taking control… I enjoyed it. I was into it as much as you were."

"What about now?" he asked, hinting to the leather-clad elephant in the hallway. "Do you think you can handle it, after everything you've been through?"

I didn't hesitate.

I eased up onto my toes and kissed him, hard and fast, coaxing him to relax.

As I felt his shoulders drop, he reached above my head and pulled a key down from the top of the door frame. Taking the gold key in his hand, he pushed it into the lock and opened up the playroom door.

He stepped inside first, knocking on the lights. A part of me expected the room to look different somehow, but it was eerily familiar. Some of the equipment and toys had been removed, everything I had previously vetoed now gone from sight.

"I'd like to try it again," he confessed, his voice so low I almost didn't catch what he said. He turned to look at me, his head bowed to the floor. "I still want this… Well, I still want our version of this."

"Do you need it or want it?" I checked.

"Want," he clarified. "With you. Only you."

I smiled back at him.

"I'm kind of scared, though," he revealed.

"Me too," I nodded. "It's been a long time. A lot has happened."

"I'm scared it'll trigger you," he admitted. His concern stretched wider across his face. "If I tie you up, I'm scared it'll bring back memories of what happened in Maîtrise. I don't want you to feel like that again. The fear, the upset, the panic. It kills me seeing you fall apart."

I couldn't ignore the niggle in my stomach that shared the same worries.

"This is different," I said. "It will be different for us."

"How?"

"Because with you, I know I'm safe," I shook my head. "I know you're not going to hurt me."

"But if you start freaking out –"

"Then we'll stop and take a breather," I shrugged. "I have ways of rationalising my thoughts now. Rhian's helped me get a grip on my fears."

"I don't want you to have a set back, that's all."

I crossed over to him and slid my hands around his waist.

"If you can do this, so can I," I said.

"But –"

"I'm ready," I assured him. "I want to get back to how we were. Our mix of kink and vanilla."

He snorted under his breath.

"And I want to make this room ours," I added. "I think we need to redecorate in here too. It should represent us. I'm not a fan of the red."

He glanced around and nodded.

"I never liked the red either," he sighed. "I just went along with the plans. The designer used red in his mock ups and it stuck."

"He?" I frowned. "It wasn't Gia who –"

"God no," he shook his head. "She didn't know anything about this room. No, I had someone I knew from the community design this for me. I've known him for years."

"A fellow dom?"

"We met in a club," he explained, nodding. "I can ask him to redesign in here, if you want? We can talk him through some ideas to make it less… like a dungeon."

"It is kinda like a torture chamber," I smirked. "I'd like something more sensual. Warmer. More erotic."

"Sounds good to me," he purred and leaned down, pecking his lips to mine. My skin prickled all over, my senses heightening. "And when it's been redecorated, we can come in here and christen it properly."

I stilled.

"I want to christen it now," I whispered. "I want to play."

He studied my face, remaining silent for the longest time. I wondered if he was thinking of ways to worm out of doing this.

He sucked in a sharp breath and raised his hand to my face. He ran the pad of his thumb across my lower lip.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

I nodded.

"Lift your arms," he ordered, his voice taking on a deeper, sterner tone. It made my thighs press together, my knees buckling.

I did as he said, holding my hands up over my head. He took the hem of my t-shirt between his fingers and peeled it off my body, throwing it on the floor at my feet.

He moved his attention to my bra, cupping my breasts through the thin lace, my nipples hardening at his touch. He smoothed his hands along the band and unhooked it. I lowered my arms and allowed the dainty fabric to drop to the ground.

"I'll never tire of seeing you like this," he mumbled.

Carefully, he teased my sweats and panties down my legs, stripping me bare. He squatted in front of me and tapped my feet, silently gesturing for me to step out of the remainder of my clothes.

As he rose to his feet, he pressed light kisses from my pubic bone to my throat.

"Wait here," he hushed. "I'll be back in a minute."

I stared after him, watching as he sauntered from the room and closed the door behind him. I stood motionless, unsure of what to do.

Do I remain exactly where I am?

Am I allowed to move?

Where has he gone?

It was alien to me. When we had previously played, it hadn't been a formal affair. There weren't any rules. But in here, I didn't know if the same would apply.

Against better judgement, I sat down at the foot of the bed. I looked around me, seeing the bare walls where various canes and whips used to reside. We had gone through everything in here, traffic lighting the items I was open to trying and those I was adamant would never come near me. Only those that had been given a green or yellow sticker remained.

The door creaked open again and Christian returned. I rolled my head to the door and gasped at the sight of him bare-chested, wearing only a pair of silk pyjama pants. The midnight blue material shimmered as he strode towards me, the close-fit revealing the contours of his growing erection.

He came to a standstill in front of me.

"Am I allowed to sit down?" I tentatively asked. "Or do I have to wait for you to tell me?"

"No, you can sit," he smiled. He cupped my jaw between his hands. "You don't need to be at my beck and call."

I couldn't help but recall the finer details in the contract he had given me after we met.

We had tried to find a compromise, plotting a way to incorporate his need for control and play and my desire of a more conventional relationship. We had each devised our own contracts – his listing what he wanted, his rules and expectations. It stated that whilst in the playroom, I must not do anything unless he had first instructed me to do it.

No eye contact, either.

He held my head up, as if sensing what I had been thinking.

"Forget about all that," he said. "It's in the past. We make our own path, find our way of doing things. Find what works for us. Right?"

I nodded.

"How is this going to work then?" I checked. "Are you in control?"

"Yes," he replied. "But you never have to do something you don't want to. Don't feel like you have to do it just because I've told you to."

"I still have a say," I nodded, getting what he meant. "I still have control over my body."

"Always," he smiled.

"But you will expect me to be subservient?" I asked, choosing my words carefully.

"To a degree."

"Will you expect me to kneel at your feet?"

"Only if you plan on taking me in your mouth," he smirked, stroking his thumb back and forth over my lip. "We're still us, even when we're in play. I'm still your boyfriend. I'm still your Christian."

"Can I call you sir?" I whispered, straightening my back as a ripple of spasms spread through my core. I was primed and ready for him.

"If you want," he shrugged. "Whatever turns you on, baby."

My eyes dropped to his groin. I longed to rub my palms along the hard line of his penis, to feel him through the cool, smooth fabric.

"I haven't seen these before," I said.

"They're my playroom pants."

"You're what?"

"I used to wear a pair of jeans in here," he explained. "It was kind of like a uniform. It'd get me into character. They were some old, ripped Levi's."

"So how come you're not wearing them now?"

"I threw them in the trash," he said. "I got rid of them the night we first slept together. I saw them in my closet when I went to pick out some clothes for you to wear and I cringed at the thought of wearing them when I'm with you. I bought these instead."

"I think I prefer silk to denim," I muttered. "It's more revealing."

"I've had these since we started dating," he breathed. "They're finally getting their first outing."

I cautiously placed my hands on his hips, my fingers lightly pressing into the flesh above his waistband.

"It's been a long time coming."

"Speaking of coming…" he purred.

His hands moved to my shoulders and he slowly pushed me back, until I was laying flat on the bed. I shivered as my skin met with the cold sheets.

"Shuffle up to the headboard," he demanded.

I got into position and stared up at the decorative ceiling. His footsteps sounded around me, echoing through the semi-empty room, until his body finally came back into view. I glanced up at him and watched as he dropped a set of thick, figure of eight loops next to me.

"Are you happy for me to tie you up?" he asked.

He climbed over me and sat down on my waist, straddling me. He picked up the loops and dangled them above me.

I nodded.

"I need you to say it."

"Tie me up." I held up my hands to him. "I'm ready."

He took the loops and secured them around my wrists, securing the buckles so I couldn't pull my hands apart. Lifting my arms up, he began fixing the bonds to the headboard.

"Too tight?"

"No," I shook my head. I wriggled my wrists. They were surprisingly comfortable, the inside of the loops lined with padding.

"Try to pull your hands down," he ordered.

"What?"

"Just do it."

I attempted to yank my hands down and, to my surprise, I was able to unhook myself from the headboard, despite my hands still being linked together.

"It's made of Velcro," he explained, gesturing to the material still hanging above my head. "You can break free if you need to. Any time you want to stop, you can."

My heart throbbed with gratitude.

"Thank you," I sighed. He smiled back at me. "I love you."

"I love you too…"

He lowered himself and kissed me full on the lips, his hands working to reattach my wrists to the headboard. His kiss was deep and long, his tongue stroking mine into our precious dance.

Slowly, he began to spread his kisses along my jaw and throat, moving south. He licked the space in the middle of my chest, then used the tip of his tongue to trace the lower swell of each of my breasts. My back arched, my movement pushing my nipple into his eager mouth.

"We'll need a new safeword," he breathed.

"We have safewords…"

"They're not suitable anymore," he grunted.

I paused and glanced up at the ceiling again.

Red.

"You need to think of a new one," he added. "It has to be your choice."

He slid further down my torso, honing in on my belly button. It was hard to think with him teasing me like this.

"We can't go any further until you decide on one."

"Um…" I writhed, pushing my heels into the sheets. He blew a cool breath over my hips and I bucked under him. "Fuck, Christian…"

"Fuck won't work, you say it too often," he chuckled. "Think again, baby."

He sucked hard on the flesh above my mound, pumping my skin in and out of his mouth.

"Oh god," I groaned.

"Hurry up," he urged. "I'm desperate to bury my face in your delicious, beautiful little -"

"Fuck," I thrashed, gulping hard. "I… f…"

"Come on, baby. Whatever you want. The first thing that pops in your head."

"Flamingo!"

He raised his head and stared up at me, his brows pinching together.

"Flamingo?" he repeated. "Where the fuck did that come from?"

I burst into a fit of giggles, my stomach springing with laughter.

"You said whatever popped into my head," I snorted. "You said it earlier, when I showed you the photo Mia sent me. You said her dress looked like a flamingo had exploded all over it. It made me laugh."

He chuckled along with me, recalling the funny moment we shared over breakfast.

"Give me a second, I'll think of something else," I said.

"No," he smirked. "Stick with flamingo."

"But it's silly."

"It's random," he shook his head. "Which is what you need in a safeword – something you wouldn't normally say. Flamingo will be our safeword."

I settled back into the bed, trying to quell my giggling.

He eased further down, until he was neatly cradled between my thighs. He traced his tongue up and down my seam, swirling the throbbing point I desperately wanted him to suck.

"Ohhh… yes…"

"I love that sound," he growled between his frenzied lapping. "God, I could listen to you moan for ever."

His hands pushed under my buttocks and lifted my hips up, tilting me into his mouth.

"From now on, this room is only about pleasure," he murmured. "I want to see you crumble as I make you come… I want to hear you groan and scream… I want to feel you clenching, pressing your thighs together as I'm pounding into you."

"Christian…"

"There will be no punishments for us," he added.

I opened my eyes and glimpsed down, bowing my head to see him.

"You mean that?" I panted. "You can give up that side of things?"

"I'm far more interested in pleasure than pain," he nodded. A wry glint swam through his gaze. "But that's not to say I won't tread the line. There's a lot to be said for pushing boundaries, baby."

"Tell me about it," I exhaled. I held his gaze and shook my head at him. "You've changed so much."

He grinned.

"I know," he said. "I feel different. I feel happy… and content… I finally feel like everything is right in the world."

My body turned to liquid, his words completely dishevelling me.

"I always knew something was missing, I just didn't realise it was a person," he whispered. "I didn't know it was you. I didn't know you were the one who could fix me."

"You fixed me too," I whimpered, my eyes starting to sting. "Oh god… how can you be so sweet and say such romantic things when you're literally laying between my legs, with your face in my hoo-hah!?"

"Because your hoo-hah brings out the romantic in me," he chuckled. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll get back to showing your hoo-hah just how much I love it."