Chapter 25: Mr Grey will see you now
AKA: The one with the proposal

At least I had the courage

to lose myself in something

I truly wanted

The three days following Elliot's birthday celebration in The Grace seemed to fly by as I did some planning.

I couldn't believe we were on that day again: the 9th day of the month.

For August the 9th marked both four months ever since our first scene, and three months ever since the interview.

Oh, what three months they had been! I finished college, got my first professional job, got fucked fifty ways till Sunday, told Kate about it, learned to make love, fell in love, argued several times with a Dom and CEO, flew in a private jet, a chopper and a glider, sailed, fucked in air and at sea, went to a Ball and New York, visited both of my parents, and moved in with the love of my life—who didn't happen to be the man of my dreams.

All in all, it had been a very productive trimester, and I was planning on ending it with a bang.

Ros was happy to help. That Wednesday, she devised a fake problem that would force Christian to stay at work longer than usual. As soon as I had left the publishing house that afternoon, he called me to inform me with disappointment he'd need to stay a few extra hours at the office.

Giddy, with my inner goddess on command, I hurried back home—to Escala—put on the black baby doll Christian had gifted me a month before, and the dress I had worn to my interview with him: light grey, with mid-length sleeves and mesh near the bottom.

It was time to make my man's fantasy come true.

On Monday, I'd dropped by Kate's apartment on my way home to ask her for the questions she had written for Christian's interview. She had given me a funny look but had been happy to print me a copy.

"Whatever you want this for?" she had asked.

I could only blush and evade her eyes, making her chuckle with a knowing look.

"Have fun!"

And there I was, walking towards Grey House with Sawyer, with a black purse hanging from one of my shoulders and a paper bag with croissants in my opposite hand—my non-embarrassing excuse to pay my boyfriend a visit.

There were a few people still leaving the tall building. Its majestic size had once led me to believe the CEO must have had a… tiny peen complex, but now I knew better.

I noticed two muscular guys dressed like my CPO were standing by the door. Sawyer greeted them with a nod, and they answered in kind.

I approached the receptionist in the main floor, yet I wasn't sure what the protocol was. Luckily for me, Sawyer took over by informing the blonde my name. She quickly typed it in her computer and what she saw made her eyes widen slightly. From one of her desk drawers, she took a security pass. This one didn't read VISITOR, much like the first one I had used, but instead, it had my name and a small picture of me smiling in what I believed to be the masked ball. Green, bold letters read FULL ACCESS. I blushed as I accepted the security pass, and off we were to the top floor.

In the lobby, we found Andrea putting her personal belongings in her purse, ready to leave for the day.

"Oh! Sawyer! Miss Steele! Was Mr Grey expecting you?"

"No. I come bearing a snack," I explained with a blush, rising the paper bag. "I hope he's not too busy."

"Not for you. You are to go in whenever you please," she informed me kindly.

"Oh," I blushed. "I wouldn't wish to interrupt if he's in a meeting or a phone call."

"I'll check," she answered with a reassuring smile.

She walked towards the door opposite to the elevator, knocked quietly and opened the door slightly before saying, "If that'll be all, sir, I'll be taking my leave."

I couldn't hear his answer.

"You too, Mr Grey. And Miss Steele is here to see you."

When she turned to look at me, she had a wide honest smile plastered in her face.

"Mr Grey will see you now," she said.

"Allow me to escort you downstairs," insisted Sawyer non too subtly as I made my way to Christian's office, blushing and biting my lip.

Playing along, my boyfriend was standing by the large window behind his desk when I walked in. He looked handsome in his back suit, much like he had the day I had met him. His grey eyes zeroed into my blue ones.

"Miss Steele? A pleasure to meet you," he said, walking towards me before extending his right hand in greeting. I was glad he had caught on and realised I was there to enact his fantasy.

I automatically bit my lip as I tried not to beam and extended my hand to shake his.

"Mast—Mr Grey," I stuttered.

"Good afternoon, Kitty. It is a nice surprise to see you here," he spoke deeply, not letting go of my hand and stepping closer to me.

I looked at him like a mouse standing in front of a snake as he invaded my personal space.

When he let go of my hand, it was to reach behind me to close and lock the door.

My breathing accelerated.

He took a couple of steps back and asked, "Shall we?" motioning toward the white couches.

I could only nod before following him.

Once I had sat down, I remembered my excuse croissants. I placed them on the coffee table and Christian gave me an inquiring look. I shook my head so he wouldn't ask and ruin the… scene.

I hadn't bothered with the mini-disk recorder, but I did take the list of questions from Kate, a small notebook and a pencil from my large purse. I cleared my throat before beginning.

"You're very young to have amassed such an empire, Mr Grey. To what do you owe your success?" I asked, trying to sound as professional as possible.

He clicked his tongue in fake disappointment.

"You wouldn't believe how many times I've heard that question. That's not very original."

"Maybe I'll be able to get some unprecedented answers out of you," I flirted, blushing as I recalled Kate had made fun of me because of that epic line.

"Maybe you will," he conceded before giving me a short, standard answer.

"Do you have any interests outside of work?" I asked next, hoping for a sincere answer.

"I have varied interests, Miss Steele. Very varied..." He was clearly going to make me work for it.

"But if you work so hard, what do you do to relax?"

"I fly, sail and indulge myself in other... physical pursuits," he told me, undressing me with his eyes. I flushed all the way to my breasts.

"Physical pursuits?" I asked innocently. "Like football or swimming? Or maybe working out?"

He smiled salaciously.

"I do work out, Miss Steele. But I do prefer more… indecent activities," he answered as one of his hands found my naked knee. I gasped.

"I see." I cleared my throat.

I skipped the questions about manufacturing and farming technologies. While I would later like to know how his answered had changed now that he had realised he wasn't heartless but generous, it wouldn't match the sensual mood we were creating.

"Do you have a philosophy? If so, what is it?" I asked instead.

"I don't have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle—Carnegie's: 'A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else to which he is justly entitled.'"

"So you want to possess things?" I asked with an ironic smile.

Unexpectedly, he blinked and, instead of answering positively, he said, "I don't think 'possess' is the word, no… Carnegie doesn't speak about owning things, but of seizing every given opportunity to achieve great success in life. I have been recently re-reading his words, you see," he continued looking intensely into my eyes, not with lust, but love, "and he also said that 'the mind like the body can be moved from the shade into sunshine.'"

I gasped. Only he could make such a romantic declaration in the middle of roleplaying.

I covered his hand—still in my knee—with mine.

"So, bottom line, I want not to possess things, but to keep my eyes open to any good opportunity. Much like I did the night we met, Kitty," he added, both smutty a mushy.

I smiled shyly before returning to my questionnaire.

I skipped the question about adoption once again, but the next one gave me pause.

"Did you have to sacrifice your family for work?" I asked.

"Only at first," he answered sincerely. "When GEH was barely months old, it was as needy as a baby."

I nodded before smirking and arriving at the last question.

"Are you gay, Mr Grey?"

"I think you know the answer to that question, Kitty," he answered, his hand travelling further up my leg and underneath my dress. "What I would like to know is why that's relevant to my business."

"I don't think it is," I answered, trying to keep my posture as his thumb caressed my inner thigh, "but I'm sure the college students that will be reading this interview are terribly curious about your sexual orientation."

"Why don't I show you?" he proposed before he kissed me passionately.

His hand found my covered sex and caressed it, as his other hand held my face.

I pushed him away unforcefully.

"We've already gone through this, Sir," I said, standing up and taking a few steps away from him. "I'm not the kind of Sub that you want."

"But you are the woman that I need, Anastasia," he answered, standing up and approaching me like a predator.

"But the contract you— "

"Fuck the contract," he answered before kissing me passionately. I didn't bother to fight him and gave myself up to the pleasure of his tongue battling mine.

As his lips began to travel down my chin and neck, I said, "I'm not going to ask 'how high?' when you ask me to jump, Mr Grey."

"I gathered as much, Kitty. You're not much of a Submissive, are you?" he asked, his fingers finding the zipper of my dress.

"Not really," I conceded as he lowered the zip.

"Lift your arms," he ordered.

I smiled in amusement. "What's in it for me?"

"So this is what it will be like?" he asked with laugher in his eyes.

"I'm far more complicated than what you think, Sir."

"I doubt it. I'm aware you're the most complicated person I know," he said as his eyes bored into mine and his hands caressed my arms, trying to gain their compliance. "A tiger in kitty's clothing, innocent looking but dangerous and with claws."

He gripped my wrists and rose them suddenly. "May I take off your dress?" he asked with a smirk.

"Help yourself."

I held my arms up as he reached for the bottom of my dress and lifted it, revealing my black lingerie.

"Damn," he muttered.

"Do you like it, Sir?"

"You are divine, Anastasia," he replied, his eyes ogling my body before returning to my face.

"Thank you, Sir. You clean up nicely. Now I'd like to see what's underneath," I said, grabbing the lapels of his suit and pulling him towards me.

It was my turn to devour his mouth as I removed his jacket. His hands roamed free over my naked skin and the lace of my baby doll as I unbuttoned his shirt, marvelling on his trust on me—three months ago, this would have been impossible, but now I was allowed to touch him with no reservations.

As soon as his white shirt had joined his jacket on the floor, he picked me up and took me to his desk. Once he had sat me on top of the sturdy wood, he took a step back to gaze at me.

"I've never fucked a woman in my desk before, Miss Steele, and I'm afraid that after today I won't be able to focus on my work again."

"I'd hope so. I'd like to think I'm more stimulating than Excel sheets."

"Oh, you are, baby. Much more so."

After some work, he managed to get me completely naked. With a lewd smile, he sat on his chair. His long, enticing finger caressed his lip and I, still seated on his desk, crossed my legs and reclined slightly, supporting my weight with my hands.

He would have none of it, though, and rolled his office chair closer to me. He gripped my ankles and coaxed my legs open, placing both of my feet on his armrests.

"You are most exquisite, Miss Steele, and I can't wait to taste you."

And so did he. He bent slightly so that his mouth was closer to my most private area and pleased me like only he knew how to. He teased me and led me to the edge of the cliff before letting me fly, my orgasm all-consuming after his order: "Come now, Anastasia."

When I recovered, Christian was already fully naked. He helped me get off the table, asking, "Are you ready for round two?"

"Of course, Sir."

And so he took me on his couch—another first—whispering words of encouragement and commenting on how beautiful I was and how lucky he was to have me.

Exhausted, we finally collapsed on the couch, his weight on top of me warming and comforting.

He kissed my shoulder before turning to look at his coffee table.

"What's in the bag?"

"Oh. A snack." I blushed. "My poor excuse to visit my boyfriend at work after office hours, when there's no one around," I added, caressing his naked back. "I don't think anyone bought it."

He chuckled.

"No person who knows us would fall for it, love. Is it a happy coincidence that I got held back today of all days?"

"Mmm… no. Seeing as how I interviewed you exactly three months ago, I asked Ros to create a diversion. I guess that's another person on the list who knows," I reflected, biting my lip.

He freed it by biting it himself.

"There's no shame in fucking like rabbits, Anastasia."

I chuckled.

"That doesn't mean I'm comfortable with people knowing we're naked in your office right now."

"I'm the one who will get teased by Ros tomorrow," he pointed out. "But I'm very proud to have taken you in my desk and couch. We'll do the door and at least one of the walls next time."

I laughed.

That Saturday—three months after our first 'date'—began as usual: we woke up early, went for a run and had breakfast together. It meant the world to me Christian and I had this routine I could rely on. It may have seemed silly and even tedious from the outside, but I actually looked forwards to it. It was one of the very first activities Christian and I had shared out of the playroom, and one that still stayed with us, and probably would for a long while.

Christian had some job to do that morning, so each of us went to our respective offices—I still couldn't believe I had a home office—to work and get our responsibilities out of the way as fast as possible. I had only been working for an hour and a half, engrossed in a manuscript, when Christian showed up at my door. He didn't have a hard time coaxing me into the playroom, and we stayed between the sheets as long as we could before I had to get started on lunch.

A few hours later, Christian surprised me by letting me know we'd be going out. He insisted I was dressed more than fine in my comfortable white dress and hurried me to the garage.

Oh, the irony.

He looked relaxed and casual in jeans and a light grey polo.

We got into his convertible, the Audi R8 'Spyder.' I put my hair up as we exited the underground garage, and we put on sunglasses as soon as we were outside.

"Are we going to London?" I probed.

He chuckled.

"Not that far."

"Elliot's apartment?"

"A bit further away," he answered as he got incorporated into Pike St, driving on the opposite direction to the Sound.

"Your parent's house?"

"A bit closer," he replied.

I huffed, having run out of ideas.

After a few minutes, Christian took a turn left and we drove northeast though Madison St, all the way to the Washington Park, where we took a right in Lake Washington Blvd.

The view was full of lush green grass, tall trees and well-kept large houses

The further we drove, the greener the scenery became. Most houses were well hidden behind dozens of trees and tall bushes, but I could tell they were huge. Suddenly, we were driving by Lakeview Park, with an amazing sight of Lake Washington at our left. From our vantage point at the edge of a cliff, I could see blue water extend for kilometres.

We didn't stop, though, but kept driving for another few minutes, lavish houses barely visible every here and there behind green leaves.

Eventually, Christian slowed down before turning left, not on a corner but into a driveway. The private road was also hidden behind trees, and short but steep, keeping the house well hidden from view: it was sand-coloured, three storeys high, had large windows, and looked very well kept. Off to the right, there was a large garage, with a first floor above, which I'd later find out had a guest house.

Christian parked next to a red car and a woman in her late thirties with dirty blond hair walked out of the house.

Christian and I climbed out of the short car, and my boyfriend led us to the lady.

"Mrs Darling, this is my girlfriend, Anastasia Steele. Baby, this is Mrs Darling, an estate agent."

"An estate agent?" I asked, shaking the hand of the kind-looking woman—who, for a change, wasn't ogling my man.

"Yes, beautiful. I've been thinking about investing in a house. For us," he added, squeezing my hand.

A house?

I gaped at him.

"Shall we?" invited us Mrs Darling, gesturing towards the door.

I fell in love with the house the instant we walked into the main room. It was large, with enough space for a few couches, and had huge windows that covered two storeys, giving an amazing view of the backyard and the water body behind it. Off to the right, there was an enclosed pool, hidden in plain sight under a palace of glass.

"Wow," I breathed. To the left of the house, we were shown a huge home office, larger even than Christian's home office at Escala, and a library. Next to the library, there was a study with a great view of the backyard and a lot of natural light. There was also a small half-bathroom accessible from the living room, and another one available from the backyard.

On the opposite side of the house, we stepped into a large outdated kitchen with tall windows that showed the backyard and lake behind it, plus a door that led to the lawn and another one, to the garage and guest house.

The house didn't have the open concept Christian seemed to favour, but the living room was communicated to the kitchen and the dining room through wooden double sliding doors. When left open, they looked like archways. Plus, the fact that the living room had vast windows and was two storeys high made said room seem enormous.

"Where does that door lead to?" I asked, referring to a door hidden off to a side of the kitchen.

Mrs Darling opened the door to show us a short corridor with two doors a and a set of stairs.

"The stairs will take you to the basement," answered Mrs Darling. "It holds the laundry room, a storage room, a small bathroom, and what used to be a recording studio. The children of the current owners were very fond of music, and they installed their studio downstairs—soundproof, as not to disturb the rest of the family or the neighbours."

Soundproof? asked my inner goddess excited.

Christian and I shared a conspiratorial look. It would seem we would get our BDSM dungeon. I smiled wickedly.

"I can show it to you afterwards," suggested Mrs Darling, clearly giving the rooms no importance. "It could be a good music room or gym," she continued. "But first…."

The door to our left led to a smaller room with a long bar and sufficient space for Christian's billiard table. The remaining door led to the dining room, large enough for a dozen people. A double door led us back to the living room, and from there we took the wide stairs to the first floor.

To our right, above the offices, there was the huge master room with a view to the backyard and lake, its own large private bathroom, two walk-in closets and balcony. I could see Christian and I spending here every night, showering together or getting ready for our workdays. I beamed at him, and he smiled back at me widely.

On the other side of the first storey, accessible through a corridor with a direct view of the two-storeys-tall living room and the lawn, there was a family room with two attached rooms.

"This used to be a gym," explained Mrs Darling pointing at the first room, "and this an art studio," she continued.

Up we went once again, arriving on the last floor. It had a sitting room and six—six! —extra bedrooms, with an en-suite bathroom and walk-in closet each.

All the bathrooms and the kitchen seemed outdated, the wooden floors needed to be replaced, and a new coat of paint was necessary for most of the inside of the house, but all in all, it was a beautiful home.

"May we take a look at the basement?" asked Christian, and Mrs Darling was happy to show us the spacious laundry room, a storage room that looked like a huge closet, a small but full bathroom, and the large former recording studio. The wall and glass separating the control room and recording room had been removed, leaving behind a rather spacious soundproof room that would be perfect for a playroom. The only question was how to move all the kinky furniture there.

"How do you like it, baby?" asked Christian once we were back in the living room.

"I love it Christian! It's perfect!"

"I'm glad you like it. I'll put an offer for it."

"Alright," I answered with a smile.

I couldn't believe I'd be moving by the lake with this gorgeous, sweet man!

"Why don't we take a look at the backyard?" he suggested.

We stepped back to the kitchen and through the door that led outside.

The yard was as big as the one in Christian's parent's house. We walked through the lush grass to the water's edge, where there was a dock large enough for The Grace.

The light started to diminish, and I turned to look at the sun setting behind our future home. The sky was turning yellow and orange among the trees, the view different but just as magnificent as from Escala. It was awe-inspiring and hope-inducing.

I turned to look at Christian with a smile plastered on my face, but was surprised to notice he wasn't standing next to me: instead, he was down on one knee, looking at me nervously. Behind him, the sky was turning purple above the undulating darkening water.

I gaped at him.

My subconscious screeched.

"Anastasia Rose Steele," he began, and my knees grew weak. "It took me a while to figure out I loved you, but when I did, there was no turning back for me.

"I fell in love with your smiles and your laugh; your compassion and your stubbornness; your blush and your bravery; your lips and your touch; your heart and your quirks. You're my sunshine and my rock; my healing balm and my inspiration. And I hope—I trust—I am the same to you."

Tears of happiness began to fall down my cheeks.

"And I know that we've been together for a short time, but you captivate me in ways no soul ever will. We are not blind fools who fell in love: we knew what we were walking into when we decided to be together against all odds, and we grew together in ways that we couldn't have had imagined.

"You are everything I want and everything I need, and I don't want to be a single day without you.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Grow with you. Have a family with you. I want not to give you the moon and the stars, but to go for them with you."

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my sight from the tears clouding my vision. With my hands covering my mouth, I wondered what to answer. My heart—and my inner goddess and subconscious—insisted I say 'Yes,' but the few neurons of mine that weren't focused on Christian's romantic speech insisted this was too much too fast, and not a decision to be taken lightly based only on sweet words.

"But before I ask you a very important question, I want to tell you that I've had the chance to think about this for a while and I want to let you do the same as well. I don't want to rush you—and I know how much you like thinking things through.

"So Anastasia Rose Steele, would you give me the honour of thinking about marrying me?"

I smiled and nodded.

"I'll think about it," I agreed with a teary smile.

He stood up, beaming and also crying.

I hugged him tightly.

"I love you. Thank you for giving me a while to consider this. I.. Wow!... I truly didn't expect this. I can't imagine my life with anyone else but…"

"I know, beautiful," he said, kissing my forehead. "I believe in marriage, and in staying married to the same person—you—for the rest of my life. I don't want you to have any doubts."

I looked up at him.

"I love you, and any doubts I may have all derive from my parent's faulty marriage—not you—. I don't doubt you, or our commitment to each other. The moment I realised I love you, I knew no man could ever compare to you, and resigned myself to loving you from afar from the rest of my life. I didn't believe you'd ever allow yourself to love me back, yet look at us now…"

I gulped loudly, knowing what the right answer was.

After all, while I hadn't expected this, I had given it some thought.

"Someone once said that if we wait until we're ready we'll be waiting for the rest of our lives. And while I don't know if I'll ever be ready to marry, I'm ready to say I will love you for the rest of my life, through good times and bad."

He looked at me full of hope.

"I love you Christian Grey, and I'd be ecstatic to marry you. Let's begin the rest of our lives together."

He picked me up and twirled me around, making me laugh.

"I was hoping you'd say so," he told me, placing me back on the grass.

He looked for something in the front pocket of his jeans and showed me an engagement ring.

I gasped.

A large cushion-cut blue sapphire laid in the middle of a platinum ring. Small diamonds and purple iolites accentuated the metal of the ring on either side of the sapphire.

I didn't want to know how much the ring had cost.

"May I?" he inquired, asking for my hand—literary.

I rose my left hand and he slid in the ring.

"A perfect fit," I muttered.

"I may have measured your ring finger while you were sleeping," he confessed, making me chuckle.

"It's beautiful, Christian. Thank you," I said, tears still falling down my eyes.

"I'm glad you like it. The sapphire is the September gemstone," he explained, hugging me, his eyes on mine. "I gathered you're not the diamond kind of girl."

"I love it," I reassured him.

We kissed passionately in the backyard of our future home under the light of the twilight.

"Can we get married here?" I asked, twirling around. "The backyard looks very well kept, and the paint of the outer walls of the house seems new." I turned to look at him, shining with happiness. "I want to start the rest of our lives in the home in which we'll grow old together."

"Sounds good, baby. We can rent the same white pergolas and portable restrooms my parents do. And meanwhile, we can get started on fixing the two upper floors of the house."

We stood looking at our future home, his arm around my waist and my head resting on his shoulder.

"When would you like to get married?" I asked softly.

He snorted.

"I'd marry you tomorrow if you'd have me."

"I can't get a dress and a full wedding planned in 24 hours, even with Kate's, Mia's and Grace's help."

"What about in a month? The weekend after your birthday."

I looked at him. He can't be serious.

"In a month?"

"Why not? I love you, and I'm not going to change my mind anytime soon—or ever—. I'd better strike while the iron is hot."

"I'm not going anywhere. And truly, I'd rather not spend a whole year planning our wedding."

"A year?" he asked horrified.

I chuckled.

"Let's get married in a month."

"Let's."

"Without the press finding out…" I added.

"I'm good at hiding from the press," he assured me.

We walked back to the house hand in hand. Mrs Darling, who we had completely forgotten about, was standing by the living room windows with glistening eyes.

She smiled kindly at us when we walked in, and I blushed upon realising she had just seen us get engaged.

"That was beautiful," she informed us with a hand in her heart. "I hope you don't mind, but I took a few pictures, thinking you may want them. I'll email them to you later, Mr Grey."

"Thank you, Mrs Darling," he answered beaming with pride and joy.

I mirrored his infectious smile.

"I was thinking maybe we could share the good news with my parents tomorrow—at Bellevue, I mean," Christian said as soon as we started driving back to Escala.

"About the house or the engagement?" I asked him, beaming with happiness. What at amazing day It's been!

"About the engagement," he answered, smiling at me. "I don't want to tell anyone about the house until it's paid for. I wouldn't want to jinx it."

"Wouldn't it be better to have Elliot take a look at it first?"

"Hmm… You're probably right. I'll see if he's got time Monday morning. I wouldn't want to lose our dream house."

"So we've been invited to have lunch at your parent's house tomorrow?" I asked.

"No, but I was thinking we could drop by for coffee. Mum will be ecstatic. And the sooner we begin with the planning, the better."

"Yes. There're some things that we should decide before being attacked by Mia," I said as we entered Madison St. "The size of the wedding, the colour, the menu… At least we've got the location."

"I'd prefer a small wedding, and I'm willing to bet so would you."

"With only close family and friends," I agreed. "Maybe a few co-workers. Colour…" I continued, "Maybe navy blue and grey? And you could use that nice tie of yours."

"You've got yourself a deal, baby. And we can let Mia deal with the menu."

"Sounds good. The bridal party… I'd like Kate as my Maid of Honour, and Mia as my Bridesmaid."

"And I'll have Elliot as my Best Man. And… Ros as my Groomswoman?"

I giggled.

"She'll love that," I assured him, squeezing his knee. "Who would have thought we'd have an easier time planning the wedding than entering in a relationship?"

He smirked at me as he stopped the car at a red light. "We already knew we have similar tastes, Kitty."

I bit my lip.

"Will you ever explain to me why you call me Kitty?"

"Maybe as a wedding present."

"Or an engagement one?" I probed.

He chuckled. "That's what the ring's for."

I huffed.

Soon, we were driving back into Escala's underground garage.

I was planning on calling my Dad as soon as we were upstairs. My stomach was a ball of nerves. Yet it would seem I had forgotten about engagement sex…

The moment the elevator's door closed behind us, Christian pressed me against one of its silver walls. His hands caressed my cheekbones and neck as my hands buried into his hair, lush and soft.

"I love you so much," muttered Christian as his lips abandoned mine to begin a trial of kisses on my neck. "You belong with me, and now we'll make it official."

I could only moan.

The elevator's door opened behind us and Christian led me to the penthouse, through the living room and to his—our—bedroom.

Breathless, he took a step back.

"Did you know I love you in white?"

I looked down at my white dress and snickered.

"I gathered as much; my wardrobe is full of white clothes."

"Maybe it was an unconscious wish to marry you, even when we were no more than Dom and Sub," he joked with a wink, caressing my sides lovingly as my hands rested on his strong shoulders. "But when I bought your wardrobe, all I could think about was how sweet and angelical you'd look in white. And you do. You look young and free. It's lovely and enticing."

I smiled shyly.

"You look like a sweet, innocent kitty," he added, grabbing my hand and guiding me to the edge of the bed.

We sat down, the sexual frenzy replaced for a loving look and a soft voice that caressed my ears.

"When we first met in the club, you were shy and demure. You looked like a kitty—a Kitty that didn't stand a chance—," he explained, eyes dark with desire as he remembered. I smirked, thinking about how he had underestimated me, and how much fun that had turned out to be. "You didn't have much experience, and I wanted to be your first in as many things as you'd allow, not thinking for a second you'd be my first in plenty of things, too.

"I knew how lucky I was when you agreed to be my Sub: you were sexy and docile."

He snorted, making me chuckle.

"And sometimes you'd get mad at me and look like an angry kitten. Pissed off but not dangerous. Those were the times when you'd bite back your retorts. But every now and again you'd get so mad at me that your submissive act would falter, and you'd show me there's a tiger hidden within. It turned out my complacent but brave Kitty was a fierce tiger in disguise!"

Well, that explains the nickname.

"The first time the tiger came out to play it was a surprise to me. I was so dazed! I didn't admonish you for it, partly because of the shock and partly because I felt I disserved it. I surprised myself; rarely do I let someone talk to me like that. But I had been trying to convince you to let me punish you in a way you didn't deem acceptable, so I felt to blame.

"While I hadn't allowed any Sub to talk to me like that before, the thought of ending the contract didn't even cross my mind. I was so enticed with you! Part of me already loved your body, your bravery and how you looked like when you came. But that day I started to fall in love with your smart mouth without even realising it."

He reached out to caress my cheek, and I noticed I was crying happy tears.

"You were my favourite Dom," I told him. "I was fairly new, and hadn't had had a Master for longer than a month; I was still trying to figure out what I wanted and how this new piece of me fit in my life… Other Doms seemed to tiptoe around me. They were either afraid to touch me to roughly or uninterested in an inexperienced Sub with a never-ending list of limits. But you were never like that; you challenged me and showed me a passion I had never felt before. And I fell in love with your hands," I told him, holding them in mine. "And your sexy voice, and your feet—they're very nice," I added, and he chuckled.

"But sometimes you pushed too hard, yet I was never afraid to push back. It was worth being with you because you had taken me to places I didn't know existed. And I may have liked to provoke you and piss you off."

"May have?" he asked, tickling me.

I giggled.

"You were always so in control, all Dom-CEO-big-boss. I loved making your restrains come down, if only for a little bit."

"It did take me a while to notice it," he conceded. "You are a siren, and I was too enticed with your naked body and the way you arched it when you came to notice much more," he justified, reaching to caress me once again.

The sweet conversation was over for the moment, and I devoured his lips.

He answered in kind and I reached out to remove his t-shirt. As it came up, it interrupted our kiss. Christian made the best of the situation by standing up and taking me with him. Off came my dress, his jeans and our underwear.

We hurried back into bed, desperate for each other. Yet as soon as he had me where he wanted me—underneath him, with my hair spread all over his pillow—he slowed down.

He kissed my cheeks, my nose, my chin and my neck. One hand caressed my breast, while his lips found my opposite nipple. I moaned and sighed, my hands roaming all over his back and hair, unsure whether to pull him closer to my breast or push him further south.

He did eventually start to move, his lips, tongue and hand exploring my belly. He kissed my hips before going lower. I moaned when his mouth found my clit. His tongue played with it as his fingers slid into my cunt and I arched off the bed, needing more. His free hand caressed my inner thigh.

He made love to me with his mouth and hands as my fingers found my breasts.

"Christian," I moaned as I reached my crescendo.

"Yes, baby," he muttered against my flesh. "Come for me, love."

I moaned loudly as I orgasmed for the first time as his fiancée, the experience as outstanding as usual.

His lips travelled back up my belly and sternum before he reached his face to look into my eyes.

"You have many talents, Mr Grey," I muttered as I caressed his glistening lip.

"Thank you, Miss Steele. I am not done with you, though," he said before kissing me, my taste on his lips.

"Good. Because I don't feel thoroughly fucked yet."

He took it as the challenge that it was and he slid home. We grunted, sighed and moaned as we gave each other pleasure, "Right there," and "I love you," muttered several times in between.

"Faster, Christian!" I begged eventually. "I need more."

And so his thrusts accelerated and his thumb found my sensitive clit.

"I'm close, beautiful," he said.

"Oh, me too," I answered.

In less than a minute we were coming together, screaming each other's name like we would for years to come.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Any recognizable dialogues from the first scene come from Fifty Shades of Grey, by E L James.

Also, the reflection of Carnegie's quote isn't my own. I did some research and paraphrased Ray Mondtoh, who has a blog.

If you haven't cheched out my Pinterest yet (user: JustValeP Fanfiction) go now! There's pictures of the house and Ana's ring.

I did create the house myself, using Sims 4 of course. I'm no architect, I just did it for fun (don't expect much from me).

I did some research, and apparently, the fanciest areas are by Washington Lake and not the Sound, so that's how I chose the location.

Recommendation: The Stanger I Married, by Sylvia Day.