Pulling up to Ana's apartment was upsetting me more than I thought it would. Despite the revelations at lunch, this was the first day in years that I had felt… normal.
However, much like all good things, I tend to ruin them.
"Christian…" Ana said, nervously.
This was it. It must be. She wanted me to make a move. She'd been dropping hints all day.
This was my chance and I am not even sure if I deserved to take it. "Yes?"
"Christian. Someone is following us."
I jerked my head to the rear-view mirror, trying to make out the dark SUV behind us. It was Taylor.
"No, it's fine. That is my security." Ana turned her body towards me in the passenger seat.
"Security," she said. "Security against what? Me?"
I laughed loud and boisterous. "No, sweetheart. Not against you. He is my head of security. He is just checking on us. He's usually with me all day so I'm sure he's anxious."
Sweetheart. I've called her sweetheart.
It fell out of my mouth before I realized it.
Ana didn't seem phased. She was squinting and straining, trying to make Taylor's face out in the windshield. After giving up, she plopped herself back around down into the seat. "Security. I have never in my life." She huffed, exasperatedly.
If I continued to see Ana, my need for security would have to eventually become a topic of discussion.
But not just yet.
"So…" I said, trailing off into my speechlessness.
"You don't like me, do you?"
What?
What?"
"You don't like me. Or you like me, but not in the way I want you to." She turned her head toward me leaning it on the headrest of the seat and smiled.
"Ana," I began.
"No, it's ok. I think you're too nice to tell me, or maybe you feel bad… after everything. But it really is ok. We can just be friends or something. If you want."
I stared into my rearview mirror once again, half expecting Taylor to come and make sure we were alright. I sighed deeply, trying to decide how I was going to explain myself.
"Ana. I have tried all day today to be your friend. Not have any self-imposing thoughts about you. I've tried tremendously to not allow myself to consider it."
She was silent, so I continued.
"I've seen a therapist for years now. Spoken to him about what went on with Elena when I was a teenager. I spoke to him about it as if I were a willing participant. As if it were my idea, even. The playroom, the pictures, all of it. And I've gone crazy, Ana. I have so much guilt. And shame. And I can sit here and say that there isn't a thing wrong with what we do, but at the end of the day.. I won't show my face at the club. I'm sick at the idea of my mother finding out. What does that say about me? What does it say about me that I still use the same contract Elena gave me with the submissives she chooses? That I expect these women to follow the same rules she laid out for me when I was fifteen. What does it say about me that all I know about sex was taught to me by someone that would allow a thirteen-year-old girl to be abused in her home? And Ana, the worst part. The worst part of all of this. What does it say about me that I want you? What if that makes me just another predator to you?"
I expected her to argue with me. Tell me just exactly what she thought of my pity party. Hit me on the chest again and tell me to get over myself.
I expected that reaction. What I didn't expect was her despondence. "I don't think it says anything about you", she whispered. "But if you look at me and all you see are memories of the worst kind… then maybe you're right."
I was frozen. This was it. But a very different it than I expected it to be.
"I have to be at work at seven in the morning. So, maybe…" she said, trailing off.
"Oh. Yes. Sure. Let me walk you up. Stay there." I got out of the car and jogged around to the other side. This was so awkward.
I opened the door for Ana and let her lead us up to her apartment door. It faced the road. I couldn't help but think how dangerous that could be.
She turned around once she turned the key in the door and looked at me.
"I'm sorry." She said quickly.
I shook my head and held my hand up to stop her, "no. I am sorry. There's something. I'm just. This has just been so much to take in." What am I doing? I'm blowing it!
We were both shaking our heads and making excuses for each other. "No. I understand. It's. I'm a lot."
"You're not. You're not. You're wonderful. I'm. I am a lot."
After a few moments of stuttering, we got silent.
Ana opened her door and stepped inside. "Well, I. Thank you. For my pizza? And for dinner." She said, sweetly.
"You're very welcome." What else could I say?
She sighed deeply and stepped further back into her door.
"Goodbye, Christian."
Fuck.
"Goodbye, Anastasia."
She shut the door.
Fuck. What is wrong with me? Why did I let her go?
If anyone saw me pacing outside of this girl's apartment, they would call the police. I wait for the click of the lock.
When it doesn't come, I find a whole new thing to be upset about.
A young woman, alone, 100 pounds on her best day behind an unlocked apartment door. I've just denied her in the car, and now I'm treating her as if I can tell her what to do? What is wrong with me?
I knock on the door, anyway. After a beat. I knock again.
"Ana it's me. Come to the door. You didn't lock it."
She doesn't come.
"Ana open the damn door, or lock it. Or something!"
Still, it was silent.
I am about to lose my patience when the door creeps open.
She's standing there, eyes wet and red rimmed. And suddenly. I just don't care about all these worries I've had today. I don't care about anything except for this teary eyed girl.
I step through the door and grab her at her elbows. Then, for the first time… I slam my mouth onto her's. I know I'm being rough, but the urgency I feel is just too much to calm down. She's making little noises in the back of her throat, and they encourage me to hold her tighter.
"When I tell you to do something, you do it." I say harshly. I close the door with my foot, and reach to turn the lock, making it click loudly so Ana can hear it. All the while, I don't take my mouth off of her's.
Violent, really is the only word for how we're embracing each other. She's holding onto me for dear life, and I have such a grip on her that I am shaking. But even still, she kisses me back. And she nods her head as if she's heard what I've told her.
I am waiting for her to pull back. Waiting for her to stop me. Slap me. I don't know. But it never comes. She takes, and she takes, and I'm pushing until we are on the floor, ripping each other's clothes off.
She makes to put her hands on my chest, and I grab her wrists pulling them up above her head.
"Don't touch my chest. Don't touch my back. If you can't do that, I'll tie your hands to the leg of your couch. Understand me?
She nods, moving her hips around the leg I've placed between her thighs.
"Do you understand me? I'm looking for words, Ana."
I shake her wrists in my hand.
"Yes. Yes I understand. I won't touch you." She's breathing heavily. As if she's anxious, or hyperventilating. It almost scares me.
I release her hands, and she keeps them where I've placed them. I trail my hand down her arm and across her cheek. I lean down and kiss her nose, as her breathing slows.
"Beautiful girl," I whisper softly. "What am I doing?" This is all so beyond me. I don't remember the last time I had sex with anyone outside of the playroom at Escala. It had at least been 5 years, and unfortunately probably at The Box.
"I think," Ana pants, "I think you want to make love to me."
I laugh at her sweet words. "I don't make love, baby. I fuck. Hard." She bucks her center up into my thigh, again and blushes a deep red.
"You fuck hard," she repeats. "Well it's a good thing that's how I like to make love."
I don't remember what happened next. I know I asked her if she was on birth control. I know I ripped her panties off of her beautiful frame. I know I licked, bit, and sucked on her soft pink nipples. I know I buried myself in her. I know she cried out at the fullness of it all. I know we fit. Together perfectly. As if we were made for each other. I know I was frightened. And excited. And overwhelmed. I know I was making love to her. I know that. I know it was rough, and controlled, and demanding. But it was making love. I know it was.
Her hands remained above her head the entire time. Pressing, and pulling on the carpet to find a way to anchor them in place. She was so good for me. So obedient. She asked to cum. It didn't get past me that she had asked for permission.
"Of course, sweetheart. Of course, you can." I came moments after. Her body tightening and shaking around me proved too much for me.
The next coherent thought I had that was not just her name repeatedly, was to gather her in my arms and make our way up off her living room floor.
Ana laid her head on my shoulder as I lifted her off the floor. She was half asleep and smiling. Her hair was a complete mess, and she kept running her fingers over my ear. I think we were both a bit drunk on each other.
"Can I stay with you?" I ask, holding my breath. I have never stayed with a submissive. I've never even been to any of their homes. I had never made love to them, either.
She nodded her head sleepily, and I laid her down in her bed. It was small. Really not big enough to fit the both of us. But the idea of not being able to hold her after what we'd just done. After the day we had just had, I'd have slept on the floor to do it. I turned her around in my arms and collected her wrists in one of my hands. This was the best I could do.
As she drifted off, I watched her. Her pink rose-y cheeks still flushed from the love we made. Her long beautiful lashes resting against them. Her full pouty lips puckered slightly in her slumber. She was content. I could see it in her face. I only hoped she felt as safe as I wanted to make her.
As lovely a distraction as Ana has been from my terrible thoughts, now that the world was silent, they ran rampant.
We've uncovered a lot about each other. And something tells me that within the next few days, we will learn even more. There is no going back now. No pretending I don't know what I know. Elena Lincoln would have to be dead to me. Once I made her wish that she was.
There were pieces of me. Deep inside of myself, that considered it.
Thought about how easy it would be. A man with the type of wealth I have amassed… it would be child's play to hire someone to rid me of this problem. But, my name is so attached to her's. In ways I am almost certain I don't even realize. If I were to make Elena Lincoln disappear, and someone start to dig her up… my name would be a golden ticket.
I could ruin her. Yes. I had already written her business off in my head, today at The Alibi. Considered her salons as a write off. Or sell them, just so she could watch someone else live the life she wished for. That could be done by the end of the business day tomorrow. But what about Grace? How would I convince her to drop Elena from the school sponsor list? Would I have to tell her the truth?
Then, there was Linc. I firmly believe no one would miss him should he disappear. I think I have enough distance professionally between he and I that no one would suspect I had done a thing. Elena would. But she would be so afraid of me, she would never say a word. I could do it myself. With my own hands.
I've thought about it many times today. Every time Ana smiled, or laughed. Every time she told a sweet story of when she was a child. I thought about what I'd do if I got my hands on him. I'm afraid the more I begin to care about Ana, the more it will consume me.
I've spent the day with her. I've made love to her once. I've been given the grim news that she and I had been together for years. Shoved in a box, in a safe, in a room in Elena Lincoln's house. I've been told a horror story. Of a child, raising herself, only to find she'd been trapped under the thumb of a predator.
I begin to think of the similarities between us. These walls I have built around the idea that I might have somehow been a victim, are bowing in at the middle. I am afraid they might crack, soon. I am afraid I will not know what to do with myself.
Then, the invading thoughts of what Ana and I had just done began to consume me. I won't regret it. I don't regret it. However, I am so afraid that she will see me fo what I am. If we take this further, she'll begin to see the similarities. I can only assume that Linc and Elena had a lot of interchangeable actions when it came to how they handled Ana and I. I truly haven't changed very many aspects of the way that I keep a submissive. Same contract. Same rules. Same general idea that there isn't any 'love' here.
I am so afraid that we will keep this up, and one day she will look at me and see another Eric Lincoln.
Ana is breathing softly against the arm I have tucked under her head. I wish I were as brave as she has been.