Author's note: song is by Barns Courtney. A bit of a poetic license, as it was released years after FSoG is set, but I like it.

Thank you.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Saturday morning, I wake to Christian kissing the back of my neck, and I comment, "Wow, you wake up fast."

I feel him smile against my skin, and he says, "I do when you're next to me."

I grind my butt against the iron rod pressing at my back, and say, "I wasn't talking to you, darling. What time is it?"

He's kissing my shoulder, while one hand glides around my midriff, and he says, "I think you know what time it is."

"Yes." There are definite benefits of living with him.

I giggle when he suddenly spins me, so that I'm facing him, but then I'm hit with a wave of dizziness and nausea. It must be evident on my face, because he asks, "Ana?"

Could this be morning sickness, so soon? "God, I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Fuck. Uh, just stay there. I'll fetch you some water."

Even the mattress flexing as he leaps out of bed is unpleasant. I'm not game to open my mouth enough to tell him. Instead, I lie still and focus on my breathing, my mouth clamped shut. Seconds later, he's back, and says, "It's a bottle with a straw. I'll hold it. You should be able to drink some without actually sitting up."

We manage it without spilling any water, and I soon feel a little better. "Thank you. Do you think this is morning sickness? I thought that happens around six weeks?"

"Six weeks, as they judge due dates. It can hit only two weeks after conception."

"Oh, right. I've been doing research, but there's so much in my head, that it gets mixed up."

He traces the line of my face with one fingertip, and says, "You're a better color now. I'm glad you're doing research. That should make things a lot easier, because we'll mostly be on the same page. And it looks like we'll have to take morning sex off the table for a while."

He doesn't sound upset, but I feel compelled to say, "I'm sorry."

"Hardly your fault, Ana."

"I'm still sorry. I was really looking forward to being able to have sex whenever we want."

He breathes a laugh, and says, "Me too, but you're here now, so all is right with my world."

Looks like my happy tears are going to be part of daily life with Christian.

Thanks to Christian's willingness to care for me, I enjoy the luxury of breakfast in bed, so maybe morning sickness is a good thing. Of course, he's hovering nearby. As I finish the last portion of oatmeal, I ask, "Have you done some renovating in here? I don't remember that dark strip around the bottom of the walls before."

"Not just in here; those permanent changes I mentioned when you first visited. If you're feeling up to it, I'll finally give you that tour, and I'd appreciate some feedback. You should be able to find your way around the apartment easily, without even your cane. I want you to be comfortable here."

He really is wonderful. I smile, and tease, "You were pretty confident then, that I'd move in?"

He chuckles, and says, "I think you know that, where you're concerned, I'm rarely confident of anything. And you'd best behave yourself, or we'll find out if your stomach can tolerate me fucking you."

Now that the nausea has eased, that permanent hunger for him has again become a priority. I can't immediately think of a cheeky comment to provoke him, so rely on my instincts yet again, and poke out my tongue at him. For a few seconds, there is not a sound in the universe, and then it seems like I can hear the crackling of a bonfire. I feel and hear him leave the bed. "Christian?"

"Let's test the new décor. Don't use your cane. If you find me, you can have me."

Playful Christian. I'm already glad that I moved in. "Yes, sir."

His apartment is even bigger than I thought. He's not in the kitchen, but Mrs. Jones asks, "Ms. Steele?"

"Uh, just looking for Christian. And please call me Ana."

"All right, Ana. I'm Gail. I'm afraid that I don't know where Mr. Grey is right now. The oatmeal worked for you? Unfortunately, you'll only find out by trial and error what eases the nausea."

I forgot that she knows about the pregnancy, but I'm glad of it. "Yes, thank you. That was perfect. Is it possible to put some dry crackers or something by the bed? Mom said that helped her."

"By this evening, there'll be a small refrigerator near your side of the bed, with everything you might need."

"Oh. Christian ordered that?"

"Yes, ma'am...Ana."

She seems so nice, but this still feels weird. "Look, Gail, I've never had someone waiting on me before. So, please, if I'm making your life difficult, just let me know, okay?"

"It's all right, Ana. Jay mentioned that you have concerns. But you've already made my life more pleasant, and I'm happiest when working. I'm glad you and Mr. Grey found each other."

I smile at the thought that I'm basically playing hide-and-go-seek with her boss, and say, "Me too. Jay is Taylor?"

"Yes, but I'm not surprised you didn't know that. He's a little old-fashioned about some things." She loves him. I'm certain of it.

I laugh, and say, "I noticed. He reminds me of Dad. And you two live here, in this building?"

"Yes. Thanks to Mr. Grey's generosity, we have an adjoining two-bedroom residence."

I shake my head slightly, saying, "I feel like Alice, through the looking glass."

Her laughter is cinnamon cookies, fresh from the oven. "I know exactly what you mean, but you'll get used to it. Can I get you anything?"

I'm keeping her from her duties. I recall something Christian said, about Gail not working on weekends. She must be making an exception for today. "Oh, sorry, no. Thanks, for listening."

"You're welcome, Ana."

I've barely found my way back into the corridor when I sense Christian, just before he says, with laughter in his voice, "Hey, baby. Forget something?"

I reach out a hand towards him, and he accepts it, drawing me into an embrace, as I explain, "No. Just making friends with your housekeeper. She tells me that I'll soon have even less reason to leave our bed, thank you."

His laugh is rich and warm, and he says, "That's not why I ordered it, but I see what you mean. And you're welcome. Just let me know if there's anything else you need. And Mrs. Jones is our housekeeper. This is your home too. When you've had a chance to settle in, she'll want your input on how you want this place run."

"Run?"

"Oh, menus, any personal touches to the décor, which nights you'd like to cook, how you want her to wash the vibrators, things like that."

My mouth drops open. I only close it when he starts laughing. "So, she doesn't really wash the sex toys?"

"No, though she does clean and launder the red room."

"So, who washed...oh, they did."

"Yes. You okay?"

"Yeah. It's just a lot to consider."

When I'm quiet for a while, he asks, "Is it your turn to hide now?"

He seems relaxed, so I slide my arms around his waist, claiming, "No, I found you, and you're mine now."

"Not that I'm complaining, baby, but you only found me because I wondered what was taking you so long, and followed the voices."

I laugh, saying, "You really don't like losing, do you?"

He shrugs, and says, "It's a Dominant thing." At these words, I realize that the fear is gone. We've only had gentle sex since Wednesday, but I suddenly need more. Confident that he'll understand, I clasp my hands behind my back, arching my body against his. I feel him tense, and he asks, "You're sure? Not still scared for Blip?"

Shaking my head, I say, "You'll protect us."

He's suddenly carrying me, and vows, "Yes, I will." At this rate, I'll never get a tour of his home...our home.

He doesn't let my feet touch the floor until we're in the bedroom, and announces, "Your prize, Ms. Steele."

At first confused, I then realize he's referring to the fact that I technically won our latest game. "I'm in charge?"

"As always." I hadn't even noticed, but he's right. Once he got over his initial fear of hurting me, we've always gone at my pace. I'm thinking back over our brief time together, that already seems like a lifetime, when he asks, "Ana?"

I smile, and say, "Thinking about fucking again."

I can hear his joy when he says, "An admirable use of your time, but will this thinking turn to doing at any point? I'm getting old here."

I reach for him, and encounter his waistband. With my hands so close to his torso, I can feel the tension in him, and soothe, "Just want to explore, below the waist."

He relaxes, and laughs a little, saying, "I'm okay with that."

"I thought you might be."

These feel like the pajama pants I once borrowed, and I idly wonder if he has twenty pairs of them too. I slide them down, over his hips, and then kneel before him. By then, his breathing is already accelerated. I glide my hands up the outside of his legs, and then discover a patch of smooth skin just inside his hips. I linger there, enjoying the feel of him, while he twitches slightly. I think he's ticklish. "Fuck, Ana, you'll be the death of me."

Delighted that he's enjoying my touch, I reach for his cock with both hands, to discover he's so ready for me that two hands will be needed. "I've never done this before, so let me know if I'm getting it wrong, okay?"

His voice is strained, when he jokes, "So far, so good."

With him always so intent on my pleasure, I've barely had a chance to explore this part of him. I gently stroke the length of it, marveling at how soft and hard it is at the same time. There's a drop of moisture on the tip. It feels good, warm and silky. Guessing that he's looking down at me, I rely on my instincts again, and look up, to suck his essence from my thumb. His guttural moan is my reward, and I'm able to honestly say, "Mmm, you taste good."

His hands are framing my face, and he jokes, "We aim to please."

"Yes, we do." My aim is good, and I lick the rest of the moisture from him, before taking him into my mouth. By then, his hands are threaded through my hair, and he's trembling. I've read about this, but soon forget all that, again relying on instinct as I guide him past my lips, as far as I can, and back again. He soon joins in, gently thrusting into me, and we find a rhythm.

Suddenly, he stops my movements by grasping my hair, and pulls me from him, as he growls, "Enough. I want inside you."

I wipe my mouth, smile, and point out, "You were inside me."

He takes my hands, and becomes iron when I lean on him to stand up, as he says, "You know what I mean."

Not actually upset, because I know it'll be fun no matter what we do, I chide, "And I thought you a man of honor."

"What?"

"I won, and you're denying me my prize."

It's enough that he stills, and then says, "All right, but on the bed. My legs were about to give out."

"You really enjoyed that?"

He chuckles, and says, "Your sweet mouth sucking on me like I'm a candy cane? Yes, Ana, I enjoyed that." When I hesitate to ask for what I want, he begs, "Baby, please, if you want to stay in charge, stop biting your lip."

Sudden, tight need for him takes hold of me, and now I'm the one who's trembling. "God, Christian, how can one sentence from you make me want you so bad?"

His face is close enough to mine that I can feel the heat coming from him, when he inhales a deep breath, and says, "I don't even need that. Just breathing you in is enough."

I lean forward, until our lips touch. It feels odd, when he doesn't immediately take control. He really is determined to be anything I need. "I love you."

He groans, and says, "Baby, you're killing me here."

Remembering something else I once read, I suddenly know how to get what I want, and to help Christian get past the last of his fear. I sink to my knees again, sit back on my heels, straighten my back, and glance down while resting my hands on my thighs. I hear his sharp hiss of surprise, and then what seems like an eternity of silence. Eventually, he asks, "Your research cover the term 'topping from the bottom'?"

He sounds more amused than angry, so I keep my gaze down, and simply say, "Yes, sir."

He gently caresses my hair, as he asks, "Here, or the red room?"

I want the red room. I've always wanted it. But I understand him a little better now, so I suggest, "Surely, that's up to you, sir?"

He chuckles, and says, "Good girl. Do you remember the way?"

Quickly scanning my memory, I say, "Up the stairs, first door on the right."

I hear him moving around the room, and almost ask why, but remember trust. A few seconds later, he puts a key in my hand, gently closes my fingers around it, kisses my hair, and instructs, "Go there, now. Strip down to your panties, and wait beside the door in this pose."

Happier than I would have thought possible, I remember what he said when I agreed to move in. "Finally."

As I make my way to Ana, I know what to expect when I open the door. I genuinely don't know how many times I've done this, but it must easily number in the thousands. Still, the sight of my love, in only panties, kneeling patiently by the door, is enough to stop me in my tracks. For a few seconds, there is not a thought in my head other than gratitude, that the strongest woman I know is willing to yield to me. I'm entirely confident that this is where she wants to be, but I remember how nervous I was the first time, so I gently shut the door, and then rest a hand on her hair, to ask, "Why are you here?"

"Uh, because I think it will be fun, for both of us?"

"Is that a question?"

"No. No, sir. I know you'll make it fun."

"Yes, I will. Now, I was serious when I've cautioned you against speaking out of turn during a scene. Anything we attempt will be more pleasurable if you focus on input, not output. But, for us, there will only ever be one rule in here: immediately obey my commands. Think you can do that?"

I'm reassured when she hesitates only a breath, before saying, "Yes, sir."

I bend down and kiss the top of her head, to conclude, "And you don't need to 'sir' me. I like it when you say my name." Ana opens her mouth to speak, and then closes it, as she smiles. "I wasn't trying to trick you, baby. What were you about to say?"

"Thank you, Christian."

It's almost too much for me then, this overload of emotion. I take a shuddering breath, in a bid for control, and finally remember who I'm supposed to be in here, so leave Ana to wait while I make my preparations. Remembering Greene's caution about stress levels, I quickly come up with a scenario that should only test Ana's limits a little. I put on the music, and glance at her. She cocks her head to one side, as she listens. It's adorable. "The song is called 'Fire'." She smiles, and I agree, "Yes, I thought it appropriate." I get back to setting the scene, saying, "Sometimes, the music will be part of the scene. Today, I'll just let this play on repeat in the background." I'm soon ready, and only then remember that she doesn't have her cane. Suddenly unsure, I say, "Look around. What can you see?"

"Uh, that massive bed. I can sort of see the rest of the furniture. I think I see you." I move one arm, and she says, "Yes, I see you now."

Good enough. "Come here."

Ana stumbles a little, getting to her feet. She's not used to kneeling. Only my many years of practicing control keep me in place when it seems like she needs help. This room is about empowering her, as well as me. When she's close enough, I explain, "There's a padded bench in front of you. Stand against the end, and bend over until your belly is resting on it, arms stretched out along it."

I'm almost undone when she nervously bites her lip while processing my instructions, but then she visibly relaxes, and does exactly as told. "Well done. Either side of your legs are knee rests. Use them." After she's in position, I put enough space between us that she won't hear my shuddering breath at the sight of her laid out like a meal for me, and then ask, "How do you feel?"

"Exposed, a little nervous, and really turned on."

I can't help a light laugh at that, and say, "Hold that thought for a few decades or so, and we should be fine. I'll bind you now. Charlie if it's getting too much, okay?"

"I will."

Despite my now slightly trembling hands, she's quickly strapped in place. I fetch the flogger, and let it glide across her back. "How does that feel?"

"Uh, okay, a little scratchy, like your evening stubble. It short of tickles."

I smile and promise, "It won't tickle the next time you feel it." She tenses, but only for a moment, and soon nods her consent as best she can while immobilized like this.

That scared little boy tries to stop me, but her needs are stronger than him, so I make sure of my grip, and bring the flogger down across her back, dragging it slowly across her skin as I withdraw it. She spasms in response to the blow, but says nothing, so I strike her again, and she utters, "Charlie."

Fuck. She shouldn't need the safeword so soon. It's not a command to stop, so I resist the urge to free her, instead asking, "Because?"

"It's just...it's a lot to process. Can you go slower?"

And suddenly I'm the one who feels like it's my first time. I should have thought of that, given her inexperience. "Yes, baby, I can do that. Describe it?"

"Uh, it's not exactly pleasant, but not painful either. It feels like my skin is waking up, after a long sleep."

Exactly as intended. "Good." Reassured, I think of an amendment. "Nod when you're ready for the next blow. Just tell me when you've had enough. Okay?"

"Thank you." Only seconds later, Ana nods, and I strike her again. By the fourth, her breathing is rapid, and she's straining against the bonds, to no avail. After the fifth, she says, "Enough."

I reward her slightly pink back with a kiss, and ask, "Still where you want to be?"

She smiles, and says, "Depends. Are you ever going to fuck me?"

I instill fire into my words, as I promise, "Right now, I'm going to punish you, for cheekiness."

Her mouth drops open, her pupils dilate as the adrenalin courses through her system, and she whispers, "Oh." She really wants this.

Her skin will cool down soon enough, so I don't bother freeing her legs, instead shredding her panties, provoking a small yelp from her. "Okay, baby?"

She gasps a laugh, and says, "Oh, yes."

I rest a firm hand on the back of her neck, so she can't even lift her head, and bring my palm down on her ass. She bucks against her bonds, but makes no sound. I soothe her with my hand, and ask, "More?"

"More."

It's barely audible. She's lost to sensation now. I spank her again, a little harder this time, sending a reciprocating jolt of pleasure through me at the contact. I again soothe her with my touch, letting her set the pace. When she tries to nod, I bring my palm down on her quivering ass once more, and she grunts, "Enough."

"Any bad pain, sweetheart?"

"Only between my legs, where I need you to be."

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that."

I move the stirrups outwards, exposing her still more, and she moans, "Oh, God!"

"No god in here, baby." By the time I'm in position behind her, I'm trembling again. I caress her butt with both hands, my thumbs playing in her slick juices, and comment, "Quite a view back here."

"Christian, please."

My name from her lips, as she begs for more, threatens to derail me. "God, Ana, you...I'm lost to you."

"Oh, I like that, but I'm not feeling your proof."

So I slowly enter her, and ask, "Sure you've had enough of gentle?"

"Fuck, yes."

I reach one hand around and press my fingertips against her clit, eliciting a moan from her. And then I thrust into her as hard as I can. She cries out, so I hold myself there, letting her process, and she gasps, "I'm okay."

"No, you're incredible." I slam into her, again and again, every stroke forcing her clit against my fingers. She comes only seconds later, calling my name. I'm barely aware of gripping her hips in a bid for control, somehow managing to slow my pace, and gasp, "More?"

She giggles—really not helping my control—and says, "More orgasms? Yes, please."

She's so tight around my cock, that there's a sucking sound when I suddenly withdraw from her, and then she shudders through another orgasm. I wasn't expecting that. She really is very responsive. I wait until it subsides, and then kiss her butt, before explaining, "The feelings are more intense when you're spread-eagle like this. I'll free you now."

"Mmm."

As I undo the straps, I cheerfully vow, "If you fall asleep right now, Ana, we're never coming back in here."

She laughs, and says, "Unlikely. Though I'm not sure my legs will work."

"Just take your time." She's soon free, and I say, "Stand." I hover only long enough to make sure that her legs are actually working, and then I walk over and sit on the sofa, to command, "Come here." When she merely looks around the room, I add, "Foot of the bed." Her gaze zeroes in on me, so I move one arm until she smiles and walks towards me, her arms relaxed by her sides. It's still an incredible rush when she does that. Any other time Ana walks without her cane, she always has her arms out, in search of any obstacles. I don't know that I can ever explain what it feels like to see this proof that she trusts me completely. There's nothing that compares. But I suspect she understands. She always has.