Chapter 3:

There was a bit of an awkward silence as he digested the information.

"Well, that would be as good a reason as any to turn your back on love." Christian stated after what felt like a lifetime. "I also don't do the whole love thing." He took another bite of his mouth. "I have a more singular interest."

"And what would that be?" I asked looking back down at my drink to keep my eyes off his mouth, I could almost feel his smile. Now I wasn't so sure I wanted to know the answer.

"That is something we can discuss at a later time in a more appropriate setting." My heart rate perked up at the thought that he wanted to get together again but my stomach twisted knowing that whatever he was looking for wasn't something he wanted to discuss at a coffee shop.

"Well, you have caught my attention," I look into his eyes and straighten my shoulders trying to appear confident. "What is so bad that it can't be discussed here?" Christian mimics my postures and folds his hands together placing them on the table.

"You can say that I have a bit of a proposition for you." His smile grew wider, "I know you have to head back to Portland today, but what are your typical days off?"

"Saturdays and sundays." I take my final drink of coffee making that god awful slurping noise.

"I would like to have dinner with you at my place Friday evening. We can have dinner and discuss it more then." Wow, Christian wants me to stay the night with him. My stomach knots at the idea of it. Would we have sex? Fuck, what if I am not good at it anymore. What if I was never good at it? My brain starts going a million miles an hour. Christian continues on breaking me of my over active brain, "I would of course work out transportation for you. I don't expect you to drive all that way again."

"Um, yes." What the fuck, the words left my mouth before my brain truly processed what was going on. "Though I don't mind driving myself," I readjusted in my seat, "I would like to have my own car in case I need to leave." Christian chuckled and nodded.

"Are you already expecting the worst?"

"I have been in enough social situations to learn that it is always nice to have an escape plan." There is something about this man that is giving me strong red flags but those red flags are also so hot. That could also be my body talking. It has been years since I have had sex. I might as well be a born again virgin.

"Well Ms. Steele, I believe we have a date, until then let's get you on the road and home." Christian begins to stand picking up our garbage and throwing it in the nearest trash. I follow him out, we walk to his car, I tell him where I am parked so he can drive me to it. His chauffeur opens up the door for us and I climb in first. I move all the way over to the furthest window. The seat dips as Christian climbs in too. He tells the gentleman where I am parked then rolls up the privacy glass. As soon as the glass is fully shut the tension grows. I can feel him next to me, he smells fresh and masculine. It's intoxicating, before I could control my mouth I blurted out.

"Are you going to kiss me now?" I don't know what came over me. The close proximity, the heat between my legs, or the fact that I have never felt this much attraction to anyone before.

"No Anastasia, I won't kiss you now." At that moment my confidence balloon deflated. I am so embarrassed, the hurt threatens to spill over. What was I thinking, I thought he liked me. What the hell was I doing right now, this isn't me. This is the exact rejection I try to avoid. "I need you to sign some paperwork before anything like that can happen." He continued.

"Paperwork?" I look over at him confused, "I know I have been out of the game for a while but when did this kind of interaction need paperwork?" He faces me as well staring at me with those intense eyes.

"I need your legal consent before I can touch you." I thought he may be joking but the way he was staring at me told me he wasn't. As lost as I was, I wasn't going to push the subject. I have a feeling this has something to do with his reputation. With that kind of status this must be some sort of liability thing. We pulled up next to my blue 2015 Kia Soul. I reached for the handle but Christian's drive beat me to it.

"Oh thank you, uh," I step out onto the pavement, "What is your name?" I ask him.

"It's Taylor ma'am." I smile at him and he gives me a slight one back.

"Well thank you, Taylor." He does one swift nod and I turn to the trunk where Christian is unloading my suitcase. I open my back end and he places it in. Shutting it, I turn and bump into Christian. He grabs my shoulders to steady me. We are so close now, my hands are balanced on his chest and his steel grip holding me in place. I look up and meet his eyes, they are wild with what I can only think of as desire. I look at his lips and bite down slightly on mine to keep from reaching up the fraction of an inch to kiss him.

"Fuck the paperwork." Christian says hungerly before pushing my back on to the cool metal of my car. His mouth closed over mine, it was as if he needed it as bad as I did. His tongue traced my bottom lip asking me to let him in. I did and if my arms hadn't been pinned to my side, I would have wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened it further. I whimpered when he pulled away, I hadn't gotten my fill yet.

"Wow," I pant, he lets go of me and adjusts his jacket.

"It seems I lose my control around you." Christian runs his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, me too." I bring my fingers to my mouth touching my swollen lips.

"I will see you next weekend, Anastasia." He says tucking my hair behind my ear and then turning to leave me panting and alone.

The week went by very slow, the normal routine of life took back over. Beat my alarm, got ready for work, went to work, left work, ate food, and then went to bed. The older I get the more I realize why parents say don't be in a rush to grow up. Finally, Friday had arrived, I was beyond nervous. I left work at 5:00pm on the dot. By the time I made it to Christian's home it was almost 8:30pm. "Good evening, ." He greets.

" ." I greet politely following him to an elevator and after tapping a number into the keypad, the door opens. It's warm inside which was a nice change from the Seattle temperature. All mirrored glass, I can see an infinite number of Christian's everywhere I look. Moments later, we are in what seemed to be an all white foyer. A dark wood table in the center is decorated with a bunch of white flowers. There are paintings all over the walls, I watch Christian open a set of double doors. The white theme seemed to continue across the corridor where there is a direct entrance to the main living room, double the height. I don't think I've ever seen anything this huge. There is a far wall that is glass and leads onto a balcony that overlooks Seattle. A U-shaped couch faces a state-of-the-art fireplace, which is lit. To the left an entryway to the kitchen, with a breakfast bar with six seats.

A couple steps away from the kitchen is a dining table surrounded by sixteen chairs. I haven't known Christian long but something tells me he has no use for sixteen chairs.

"Would you like a drink?" I peel my eyes away from the gallery that is Christian's house.

"Yes, whatever you are having is fine." I am still captivated and feeling out of place in this enormous room.

"Pouilly Fume okay with you?" I turn to him hesitant and unsure.

"I am not an expert on wine, Christian. I will trust your judgment." My voice is soft, I am in total shock. I just want to book it out of here. This isn't normal people rich, this is a level of rich I can't even fathom. I don't know what I am doing here.

Christian hands me the glass, "for you." The glass is heavy, at least 2.5 pounds of crystal. I took a sip and just as I suspected, the wine was good. I take another gulp greedy for some type of courage. "Are you hungry, Anastasia?" I turn my attention to him and away from the different sculptures and art that decorate the living room.

"Oh, no thank you." I couldn't possibly eat now, "This place is very big."

"It's big." He agrees, chuckling with amusement over what I have said. I tip my head back and finish the wine. "Woah."

"Thirsty," I reply after swallowing the last gulp. "So, I assume you play." I point my wine glass to the grand piano.

"Yes."

"Of course you do."

"Would you like more wine?" I nod eagerly, handing him back my glass. I can feel his eyes on me as he pours me a glass. I walk slowly around the grand piano. Running my fingers over the keys, causing a soft tone to ring through the place. Christian extends the wine back to me, filled about halfway. I took a smaller sip this time.

"Would you like to sit and talk more comfortably?" I nod following him to the U-shaped couch. "How was your work week?" He tugs at his dress pants as he sits on the couch, he must have just gotten off work. Lifting the wine glass to his mouth he takes a sip, I watch him taking in the view. This man is truly the epitome of sex. I cross my legs which seems to be my body's normal response to thinking about him.

"My work week was uneventful," Tracing my finger around the rim of the glass, I continued, "I used to have more entertaining days and stories as a sales representative. Most of my days now consist of video calls or driving to stores."

"Do you miss being a sales representative?" He asks.

"No, I don't miss worrying about how much will be on my paychecks. With that kind of commission based pay some months you made stupidly impressive money. Other months you're scrounging to make ends meet." I don't think this man has ever scrounged in his life. "Plus I don't have to worry too much about customer service because a majority of my work includes supporting sales reps." Which helped with my anxiety a lot.

"What is a stupid amount of money?" Feeling embarrassed by his question because the number I am about to say he probably makes every time he blinks.

"Well, for a sales rep with no other education." I take a sip of wine, feeling the heat of the alcohol. "I know some people average 75k a year. We have this one sales rep named Greg, he makes 100k, easily." I can't stand to make eye contact with Christian. I bite down on my bottom lip feeling embarrassed, talking money with one of the richest men on earth is intimidating. Fuck it, he's just intimidating.

"Anastasia, don't bite your lip." He demands, "it drives me crazy, it makes me want to bite it." I flush feeling the heat grow between my legs. I feel my panties grow slick with the idea. I hadn't even realized I had been biting it.

"Isn't that why I am here?" I whisper as seductively as possible. Sipping my wine again, the glass once again empty.

"Yes, I guess it is, excuse me." He walks out of the room. While he's gone I fidget with my black polo, just realizing I didn't change before getting here. Minutes later Christian makes his way back to the couch holding some paper. "This is an NDA, for us to be able to continue this conversation I need you to sign it." He passes it to me with a GEH pen. The pen was even luxurious, I don't know why I am even surprised. "My lawyers insist. Whatever happens between us, you are to discuss it with no one." I locate the signature line and sign. "Don't you want to read it?" Handing it back to him.

"I wouldn't tell anyone anything anyway. So if this makes you feel at ease, I don't need to read it." Though I have people sign documents all day long, accepting terms and agreements is an essential part of the job. If you refuse to sign then you get nowhere. I was willing to sign anything right now to have his mouth on me again. It's the alcohol courage acting right now.

"Fair enough," He says, setting the NDA on the side table closest to us. He turns back to face me, the knot in my stomach growing with anticipation.

"Are you going to make love to me now?" It slipped out of my mouth before I could censor it. Make love? Do people even say that anymore? I cringe inwardly.

"I don't make love, I fuck, hard." A pant leaves my mouth. That statement did things to me I couldn't even rationalize.

"Oh, okay." Christian stands extending his hand to me.

"Come with me, I want to show you something." Disappointment grows as we walk down a long white hallway.

"What do you want to show me?" Following Christian down the white hall, this place feels staged like no one actually lives here. We stop outside a white door with a simple gold lock and handle.

"My playroom." He answers.

"Really?" I say with exasperation. "You want to show me your Xbox right now?" Christian tries and fails to hide his amusement.

"No, it's not that kind of playroom." Then it hits me, it's going to be a sex room. I just have this feeling there is no other reason for him to bring this to my attention now. "What I am about to show you may freak you out, don't feel obligated to stay." His words are filling me with fear and confusion. What could be behind that door? It can't just be a sex swing with how much he's amping me up with this speech. All I can picture is a dark dungeon with women chained to the walls. He is hesitating with his key just right outside the hole.

"Christian, just open the damn door!" My patience snaps, I have to know, the suspense is killing me. Christian slowly inserts the key and turns, looking back to me with unsure eyes as he pushes the door open.

It wasn't a dark dungeon with women chained to the walls, I mean that is a plus. The ceiling and walls are painted a deep burgundy color and the floor is old, old varnished wood. Fastened to the wall is a large wooden cross like an X and it faces the door. Each corner has restraining cuffs. Hanging on an expansive iron grid are all types of ropes, chains, and shackles. Two long poles hanging like curtain rods across the wall hold an assortment of paddles, whips, riding crops, and feathery implements. Next to the door stands a chest of drawers, I begin to wonder what it holds. Then I realize I probably don't want to know. In a far corner is a leather padded bench and above that fixed to the wall are canes of all different sizes. But nothing in this room steals the show like the king sized bed with a four-poster with a flare top. I see chains and cuffs shining from under the canopy. The bed is covered in red leather and satin but there is no bedding. I can feel Christian watching me intently, which is to be expected, his and my expression completely unreadable.

"So you are into that BDSM stuff?" I say looking around the room.

"Something like that, you know of the lifestyle?" He asks, watching me run my fingers over the feathery thing with small plastic beads on the end, it's suede. "It's called a flogger." He adds.

"I wouldn't say I know the lifestyle but I have heard S&M by Rhianna." I correct, looking up to meet his eyes. I know I should be scared but I know he wouldn't hurt me, well without my consent that is. Still standing in this room feels like I am standing on a set. This doesn't feel like real life.

"Say something," Christian pleads.

"Do you do this to people? Or do they do it to you?" He pursed his lips trying to hide his smile or maybe his relief.

"People?" He studies me while considering his answer. "I do this with women, with women who want me too."

"I'm confused if you have willing volunteers, why am I here Christian?" I ask.

"Because, I want to do this with you."

"Um," I let out a breath. He likes to hit women and he wants to hit me. I know Rhianna said 'the pain is for pleasure and nothing could measure' but that must take a special kind of woman. "I just feel like there are more seasoned women who could and would be better suited for this." My knowledge on this type of life is very minimal, basically unknown. How do you even know where to begin?

"I would help you learn the lifestyle." Christian says with almost an edge of plea in his voice.

"Lifestyle, so this isn't just a bedroom kink?" Turning to him, "this consumes your whole life?"

"Yes, I will dominate you in all aspects." He smiles, "and once you let go, you will want me too."

I let out a short laugh, "Why would I do that? What do I get out of it?"

"Me." He says, simple enough. Him. The ultimate prize, what many women wouldn't do to win that. "Come there is a lot to go over and I don't believe this is the best place to continue our discussion." He takes my hand and leads me out of the room locking the door behind him.

"Anastasia, if you were to agree to this," He takes my hand and leads me down the hall past a couple doors till he reaches the one at the very end. It's a completely white bedroom. Everything matches the same sterile and cold shade of white. It does have an amazing view of Seattle. "This is would your bedroom, you can do with it as you please."

"Whoa, I can't move in with you Christian." I start to back out of the room feeling overwhelmed. Backing into his chest making me come to a stop before turning and running for the hills.

"No, not fully. Just Friday night through Sunday. We will negotiate it of course. That's if you want to do this." He is hesitant as he adds the last part.

"So you want me to sleep here?"

"Well considering you don't live in the area, yes."

"Just not with you?"

"Correct, I don't sleep with women in my bed." I just can't picture any of this. Yes the man is rigid and closed off but to live this kind of life? Do I even want any of this? Part of me wants to tell him to get lost, but I haven't felt like this in years. That part of me misses belonging to someone.

"So where will you sleep then?"

"Downstairs in my room, come we will go back to the living room." Back in the enormous living room and dining area I am at a loss.

"You can ask me anything you'd like." At the kitchen bar I watch him pull out platters of foods like cheeses, grapes, and meats. I am in no mood for food, the idea makes me nauseous. "Sit." Christian commands pointing at one of his many bar stools. I look at the seat wondering if I should sit. If I am going to do this I need to be more willing to obey. I look up at him, contemplating. I give in and sit.

"How will I know what I can and can't do?"

"There is a contract you will sign." He sets the platters in front of me pointing at them and tells me to eat with his gestures. "To do this right I will need to know your limits, and you'll have to know mine."

"What are the rules I would have to follow?"

"I have them written down in the contract, we will go over that once we've eaten."

"Okay, what if I don't want this kind of relationship?"

"It's consensual, if you don't want this then you don't have to do it."

"If I say no, we won't have any type of relationship will we?"

"No, this is the only thing I'm interested in."

"Why?"

Christian pops a grape in his mouth and shrugs, "It's the way I am."

"Who hurt you?" I have been dealing with trauma and anxiety long enough to know this has to stem from somewhere.

Christian paused while reaching for another grape, meeting my eyes with daggers. He was pissed and my question triggered something. I watched as his lips scrunched and he cocked his head to the side. I wasn't meaning to be rude, it was a genuine question. One that I had to answer and come to terms with years ago. "I pay my therapist a lot to deep dive into my psyche. I don't need you doing it, Miss Steele." Well at least he's in therapy, I think to myself. "Eat." He demands, trying to claim back some kind of control from the situation.

"I am not hungry, thank you." I sit further back into the bar stool. I am hanging on to whatever ounce of freedom I may have left.

"You will eat," The more he talks, I see how dominating he can be. "More wine?"

"Yes, more wine sounds lovely. Thank you." I say with dramatic gratitude, to try to show that asking gets a lot further with me then demands. Christian walks around the bar and comes to sit beside me. Handing me my glass and I take a hasty sip.

"Help yourself to some food." That felt like less of a demand. I reach for some grapes. This didn't seem to satisfy him. His eyes narrow as he watches me eat my three grapes. I smile in mock politeness at him.

"Has it always been like this for you?"

"Yes."

"Is it that easy to find women who actually want to do this?"

"Yes, we have a website and everything." I stare at him trying to figure out if he's being sarcastic. "You would be amazed, Anastasia."

"I am still not understanding, why me?"

"There is just something about you," his voice darkens as he continues, "I want you, especially now with you biting that lip again." He swallows and his lust feels heavy. Thickening the air and my core twists with need. How could someone so beautiful want me?

"So how many women have you done this with?"

"Seventeen."

Wow, not as many as I thought but still so many more compared to my one.

"Any of them for long periods of time?"

"Yes, a couple of them."

"Have you hurt any of them?"

"Yes."

"How bad?"

"Nothing too terrible."

"Are you going to hurt me?" I look up at him through my lashes.

"I will punish you. It will be painful."

"Let's move to my study. I will show you the contract. Since you seem so intrigued."

I follow him to his study. He motions for me to sit in his leather chair facing his desk.

"These are the rules. We can change certain things to fit your limits."

RULES

Obedience:

The submissive will obey any instructions given by the dominant immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. The submissive will agree to an sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the dominant excepting those activities that are outlined in hard limits (Appendix 2). She will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

I continue to read over the rules that cover literally every bit of my free will. My sleep, my food, even my clothes. He wants to tell me how often to exercise, shower, and drink. The last thing I see is in bold and it's enough to make my mouth go dry. If I break any of these rules I can be punished. The punishment is then up to Christian. "So, hard limits are things I refuse to do, correct?"

"Yes, I have some as well."

"Well, right off the bat. Telling me how much to eat and what to eat is a hard limit.

"Ok, then we will strike it. Though I do think a well balanced diet is necessary for as much extra exercise we would be having." I look up at him with my own narrow eyes. "These are my hard limits." He reaches across the table and points further down the page.

HARD LIMITS

No acts involving fire

No acts involving urination or dedication

No acts involving needles, knives, piercing, or blood

No acts involving children or animals

No activity that involves the direct contact of electric current

Wow, the fact that he even has to write these down. I hope any sane person wouldn't be turned on or interested in these types of acts.

"What would you like to add?"

I'm too stunned to speak. I look from the page into his eyes.

"I can't think of anything I would add."

"Well, last time you had sex, what made you uncomfortable?"

It's been years since I last had sex, I don't even truly remember what it feels like.

"Anastasia, in order for this to work we have to be honest with each other."

I continue staring at him with deer in the head light eyes.

"Just tell me." He demands.

"Well, I haven't had sex in five years. So, I don't really remember what I like or don't like." Christian's mouth drops a bit, shock covering his features.

"Five years?" He growls, "why didn't you tell me?"