Hello guys :)
You were waiting for it, here it is! Chapter 4 :D Sorry it took so long but I was very busy planning my holidays... Huge thank you to KBelle1, my new beta, for her amazing job ! Enjoy! xoxo
PS: I want to advise you that I don't know how a US university works, so everything is the fruit of my imagination and my European experience. If something is really zany, feel free to tell me! ^^
Characters belong to E. L. James

Chapter 4 – Should've Said No

That night, I… didn't dream about Christian Grey. In fact, it was quite the contrary: he prevented me from sleeping. How the hell did he find my number? Nobody here had it, not even Kate. Moreover, it's hidden on Facebook and Twitter.
I re-read the SMS he sent me at least a hundred times, but still don't know what to answer. 'Thank you'? No, because all he wants is me in his office (God knows why). At least he cut short my prior hesitation: I had no choice, I had to knock at his door. Mr. Grey doesn't come out, women do. Yes, I'm beginning to know him, which makes me want to abandon my book.
Well, the truth was also that the more I knew him, the more I wanted to know about him. I was literally captivated by him. Each time he was in front of me, butterflies were getting mad in my stomach and it was like my skin was aimed at sticking to his. My heart was racing and I wasn't able to speak anymore, only stutter. Worse, I couldn't control it and it was driving me crazy. But the worst was that I had no effect on him. How can a person have such a hold on another without feeling anything? I succeeded in throwing him twice though –and it made me very proud-, but his surprise lasted such a short time that I was wondering if it wasn't the fruit of my imagination.
Anyway, I had to make a decision. First, I seriously considered sending him, 'As far as I know, you're not disabled, so please meet me in the library to give it back to me. I'll be there between 10 and 11am. Thank you in advance.' But then changed my mind since he was probably very busy and was kind enough to keep my book. You're so naïve. He deserves the benefit of the doubt!

At 10:30, I was heading for Witherspoon Hall. Because I didn't want him to misunderstand my intentions, I had decided to wear a large hoodie and a pair of jeans that hid my curves. With that heat, it was torture. I also limited the make-up to a bit of mascara and let my wavy hair freely fall on my shoulders.
Once in front of his door, stress suddenly came over me. I should've said no. What am I going to say? The right question is, will you be able to talk? Oh I will, I just hope my body won't betray me…
I took a deep breath and knocked. Or at least, tried to. Christian opened the door before I had the time to brush against it. Undoubtedly, he always has a head start over me!

"Anastasia," he nodded politely to greet me. "Please, come on in."

He stepped back and made a sign to invite me in. I entered cautiously, not without glancing at him. He was handsome, as usual. His hair was true to form and he was wearing a white shirt whose sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which revealed his suntanned forearms.
When he closed the door, I deliberately ogled his ass, perfectly hugged in his flannel pants.
I was so concentrated on his amazing body that I didn't notice that he, noticed me. He was staring at me with his charmirk, waiting for me to meet his eyes. And that's what I did, during two seconds before looking down at my feet, blushing more than ever.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked, amused.

"Yes… no! … uh, yes… hm, I'm sorry…" I stammered.

"You don't have to be. I like what I see too," he replied, scanning me from my head to my feet with intensity.

Despite his incredibly sexy crooked smile, his eyes were distant and impenetrable.
He was undeniably lying. Indeed, my clothes seemed to complete their mission: there was no sign of desire emanating from him. Although it was what I theoretically wanted, I found myself disappointed. I realized that the feeling of being desired –all new for me-was really intoxicating. For the first time in my life, I had the impression that I could appeal to men. I would've killed to feel it once again.

"Please, have a seat," he gently ordered me, indicating the leather armchair in front of his desk.

"I… thank you but I just want my book back," I shyly replied.

"You will have it, but sit down a few minutes," he non-gently ordered, seemingly irritated.

I didn't answer but reluctantly obeyed. He nodded in satisfaction, walked around his imposing desk, and took place in his chair.

"You did not answer my message," he stated.

His voice was softer but he was looking at me unblinkingly, waiting for an explanation.

"There was no question…" I pointed out to him.

"Well, when I offer you to come into my office, I expect you to tell me if you will or not. I have many things to handle which do not allow me to wait for you uselessly. Time is money, you should know it given your professional orientation," he replied drily.

I was feeling like a child getting told off. He was so self-confident, so authoritarian, so unpleasant and… so hot. I was so weak in front of him. His beauty almost made me forget his arrogance. Almost. He will have to learn that getting on my nerves isn't the good way to dominate me.
Mr. Anger took control of my mouth and responded as drily as him:

"Well, when you ordered me to come into your office, I hesitated because you mustn't tell me what I have to do. You didn't have to take my book, so I do not owe you anything. Now, please give it to me because I am the one waiting uselessly."

He raised his eyebrows, as surprised as me by my boldness. His eyes ignited and I immediately regretted my words and looked down at my joint hands, dreading his reaction. I just wanted to get out. If I wasn't so proud, I would've let him win and run away without my book.

I jumped when he suddenly put the work down on the desk in front of me. I didn't hesitate and seized it before standing up and heading straight for the door.
I caught the latch and activated it but nothing happened. I was locked. Great. Obviously, his physical appearance was so powerful that it could not only make up for his despicable behavior, but also hide the danger he was representing. I hate my hormones!
I tried a second time but it didn't work. My nightmare came back to my mind like a boomerang and horrible images began to file past my eyes. My breath became erratic and I began to feel dizzy. Ana, do not panic.
I stopped breathing as I heard him behind me. He drew level with me and delicately took a key out of his pocket. He unbolted the door but when I tried to open it, he quickly placed his right hand flat on the black wood to prevent me from leaving. Impossible to vie with him, he was ten times stronger than me.
I sighed in a sign of renunciation, and focused on his strong hand to keep calm. In no time, his long fingers and prominent veins hypnotized me and I realized that I loved hands as much as I detested feet. I couldn't help thinking about what they could inflict to each part of my body; positively and negatively. (Okay, more positively than negatively.)
I slowly turned around to face him. His posture was off-hand and he widely towered above me, beautiful and intimidating at the same time. We were so close that his delicious smell was wrapping me like a cloud, making me lose my head. My panties became wet and desire began to consume me to the core. I had never felt something that intense, it was almost unbearable. Whereas I was ready to flee from him two minutes ago, I was now dying to kiss his perfect lips. I felt myself being attracted to him like a magnet while his mouth was getting dangerously closer to mine.
Once again, my survival instinct saved me just in time by re-activating my brain, allowing my feet to move. I started back and then impulsively kissed him on the cheek to… To what?! I realized that I had kissed him without valid reason.
Taken aback, he released the door and I ran out of the office. And I got it: my gut decision was to kiss him because it was a way out. Seems like my instinct of self-preservation is more useful and smarter than I thought.

I had been running for five minutes –not without feeling stupid-, when I decided to slow down inasmuch as he wasn't following me. I stopped to catch my breath and try to clarify my thoughts. In vain. I still had his taste on my lips. His skin was so soft… Brrr, Ana, get your act together! I shook my head to banish his image from my mind. Impossible. I think I will need more than that to forget him.

I spent the rest of the day working on 'Start with Why', nibbling a speculoos from time to time. I had hoped that working non-stop could help me not to think about Christian, but that was not the case. Indeed, his perfume was literally incrusted in the book and as a result, I struggled to stay undistracted.
As my brain was beginning to tire, I decided to go to the sports complex to run a bit. It would surely be more effective to disconnect from reality.
While I was changing from my casual clothes to my sportswear, I took some time to examine my body.
What does he like about me? I am over-trite, have love handles and don't have plump lips. Okay, my boobs are great but it has never been enough to appeal to boys. Excuse me but, why do you think he's interested in you? I may have no experience but I'm not blind. You can have a pure body but a perverted mind; I am living proof of that. (You are the perverted mind.) I know what desire looks like, I can recognize the visible physical changes. It is something he can't hide. He wants something from me –his intentions are clear- but his 'why' is fuzzy. Seems like he should review the main principle of the book he likes so much!
I fastened my hair in a high ponytail and left my room.

The journey to the closest gym lasted fifteen minutes (at a run!) so that I was tired before I could see the entrance. Fortunately, I love running, have a good endurance and was motivated; otherwise I would have returned to my loving bed.
It was 6:30 pm when I arrived, which was perfect since I had planned to exercise for ninety minutes, and the building was open till 8:30 pm. I placed my towel, my shower gel, and a change of clothes in a locker, and then headed for the only available treadmill.
Although the room was immensely big and very well-stocked, it was almost full. Beads of sweat covered most of the faces but the air was fresh thanks to the opened windows. Three flat screens were suspended from the ceiling, broadcasting BBC programs, but their sounds were masked by the different body-building devices' noise. The atmosphere was so rousing that I had no difficulty to get on with it rapidly. Furthermore, my playlist 'Motivation' helped me to reach my cruising speed in only eight minutes.

I was absent-mindedly watching TV when he entered. Fuck! His grey eyes met mine almost immediately and I instantly lost my tempo, nearly falling in front of everybody. What a bungler! I could see on my polar that my heart was racing, making it hard to breathe. Christian, as for him, was charmirking at me with arrogance while he was nonchalantly walking to a rowing machine. How can he be so loathsome and sexy simultaneously?
He began to row with a disconcerting easiness; his impressive biceps contracting and relaxing in rhythm. Even in that weird position he was scandalously hot.
When he judged that his level of sweat necessitated being shirtless, he didn't deprive us of it. I don't know how God makes it possible but his torso was even more astonishing than the first time. It almost hurt to look at him.

After five minutes, it was too much. I looked away somehow and tried to focus on the screen. I had to ignore him if I wanted to be effective. Since all the girls in the room had their gazes fixed on him, I supposed he wouldn't miss mine.
Well, obviously I was wrong. Indeed, I had just stopped admiring him that he swapped his rowing device for a weight bench… in front of me. This wasn't even available: he chased away the previous user! What to think? He's taunting you. Probably, and it made me ill-at-ease. I wanted to leave but didn't want to let him win and force me to stop prematurely. Worse: he would be capable to follow me! Instead of capitulating, I decided to stay till closing, hoping he would be gone before I had finished.

Worst. Idea. Ever. At 8:25 pm, we were just the two of us, I was exhausted, Christian wasn't, it was too late to have a shower on the spot, I was starving, it was raining and it was now impossible to leave without having to deal with him. Amazing.
I was thinking about a way to escape when a greasy-haired man appeared suddenly in the room, seemingly annoyed. He was frail and looked like a rat.

"The fitness center will be closed in three minutes. Please go out, straightaway!" he told me, grumpy.

Apparently, he was the caretaker of this building and his orders didn't concern The Almighty Mr. Grey. I slowed down, getting ready to switch off the device.

"She's with me, Richard." Christian said while staring at me.

WTF?! I abruptly stopped the treadmill. I addressed him an outraged look and he offered me his best charmirk in response. My body reacted in less than one microsecond, devastating the little will remaining to me. Aaaargh, I hate him!

Richard stared at me in turn and his mouth twisted into a salacious smile.

"Oh! Alright, have a good time Grey."

"Thank you, same to you," the concerned party politely replied.

Without another word, Richard left the room. Like Christian's grin, the caretaker's disgusting smile made me shiver, but in a different way. Whereas the former titillated my libido, the latter activated adrenaline, enabling me to back off.
What was he talking about when he said 'have a good time'? You're so idiotic that I have to answer or you will understand by yourself? Damn it! I think I hate you as much as him! Of course I know, I was Christian's next one-night stand. All cases that's what he thought. My tenacity woke up suddenly. No. It will not end that way.
Holding back my irritation, I rushed to the cloakroom to take my stuff and leave that place as quickly as possible.
Well, it was stupid to try to avoid Christian. When I turned around, I saw him standing in the door frame. First thought: even sweaty he's fucking magnificent… Second thought: shit! He's disturbing me again! Third thought: how will I go out?

"Where are you going?" he asked on a reproachful tone.

Oh my Goood! He wants me to be his prey and to like it?

"To my bedroom. Please, let me go," I answered, still incapable of looking at him in the eyes. (I however tried to be very dry.)

"It is out of question. It's raining and it takes fifteen minutes to go to Hamilton. You've just stopped working out, you will catch a chill walking up to there."

"Then I'll run," I said, exasperated.

I rolled my eyes and he immediately took a step forwards, more threatening than ever.

"Anastasia, I'm serious," he rebuked me. "You will come with me to Witherspoon and have a shower."

"No. I am not with you, as you maintained," I replied courageously, insisting on the 'with you'.

"Please, let me go."

My voice was becoming pleading against my will. I attempted to steer clear of him but he moved to his left to block me. My heartbeat began to speed up. Why does he make such a fuss about that?

"No way," he replied, impassive.

"Christian, let me pass. I… I still have things to do and…"

"It will wait," he interrupted me.

"I need to eat…"

Indeed, I was totally worn out –my level of energy was bordering on nothingness—and my head was spinning.

"You can eat in my room."

In his room? A part of me, increasing minute after minute, was shaking in anticipation at the sight of his lascivious smile. Oh My.

"Christian…" I began, short on ideas.

"Anastasia, it's an order," he cut me off severely and grabbed my arm fiercely.

That's it, he hit the sensitive nerve. Said like that —especially with that husky voice— I was forced to obey. Dopamine was already flowing in my veins, supplying contaminated blood to my muscles that began to submit themselves, ready to follow him, while my brain was desperately struggling to stay lucid. He always caused contradictory reactions in me but this time, it was more powerful than ever.
My mind disconnected to escape from his terrifying ascendancy and I surprised myself thinking about him raping me. In fact, I realized that it was almost an impossible situation since I couldn't count on my body to help me: I wouldn't be able either to resist or to reject him. He (and any other person, especially a judge) could easily believe that it was what I wanted. Actually, I started to believe it myself. I could perfectly imagine the action before the Court: 'Mrs. Steele, were you attracted by Mr. Grey?' 'Yes' 'Were you wet when he was supposedly about to rape you?' 'Yes…' 'Did you like what he did?' 'Yes!' … Wait, and if Valentina…? HEEELP!

Christian's soft hands on my shoulders pulled me from my nightmarish thoughts. Well, I never! Now you're suffering from Walter Mitty syndrome?!
I was feeling sick: my eyesight was becoming blurred, my legs were about to give way beneath me and my hands were prickling. Anxiety attack. That's what happens when my nature compels me to do something that terrorizes me. I was the powerless witness of a conflict of interest within myself.

"Anastasia, are you okay?" Christian asked, worried.

His confident attitude gave way to stress and his eyes, frightened, were probing mine to try to read through me. He was frowning at me and his palms were gently squeezing my bare shoulders to make me react.

"I'm not feeling very well…" I articulated with difficulty.

My ears began to ring and when I wasn't able to clearly distinguish the details of his angelic face anymore, I knew I would pass out… Or more accurately: grey out.

When I recovered, I found myself lying down on a very comfortable mattress, only covered by a fine satin sheet which molded my curves perfectly. The sensation was delightful on my naked legs, as if the material was delicately floating on my limbs. However, my mouth was furry and I was feeling muddled, like after a night of heavy drinking —purely theoretical comparison since I've never drunk that much.
I was tempted to let me sink into sleep afresh when I became aware of my partial nudity. I never sleep in underwear. I opened my eyes pronto and when I realized that I wasn't in my own bed, events came back to me with full force. I fainted… Shit! And given the familiar heady perfume of the pillows, Christian brought me to his room. Re-shit!
I have never been very stress-proof but losing consciousness was rare. It was weird. Very weird. Actually, it was too weird to be normal. How long have I been 'sleeping'? Is he here? Why the hell am I in underwear?! Ana, calm down. Analyze the situation before becoming hysterical.

That's what I did. I didn't dare to move fearing that he might see me, so I furtively observed the setting around me.
As far as I could see, the room was huge —way more than a standard one—, the walls were off-white and sported a large bunch of abstract art paintings, all in brown-red tones. I could also make out an old cherry wood sideboard, and next to the furniture sat imposingly a vintage Chesterfield armchair, which gave the apartment a great deal of character. It could have made the atmosphere warm if it wasn't so quiet.

I turned over in silence and the sight of Christian interrupted my contemplation… and my breathing. He was seated on a stool, elbows on knees, head between hands. His soaked hair, his clean clothes and his fresh smell of shower gel (that's where the apple scent comes from!) and Eau de Cologne informed me that he had a shower. He seemed preoccupied and obviously didn't notice me because he didn't move. Turning tables hahaha!

"Hi…" I said in a whisper.

"Jesus!" he jumped and looked up at me with wide eyes. These were splendid. "I thought you would never…" he continued lower but didn't finish.

He thought I would never what? Wake up? Christian, come on! I'm surely not the first girl your charm makes fall all over you. Well, the ones who literally fall are probably quite rare…
Shame engulfed me. I began to blush but took care not to bite my lip.

He sighed deeply. He closed his eyes a short moment and pinched his nose bridge. His anxiety let place to seriousness.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Terrific and terrible," I honestly answered.

Indeed, I was appeased by his presence but confused after my artificial sleep. My eyelids weren't heavy anymore but my body was leaden; each movement requiring a ton of energy.

"It could've been worse. It's lucky that I caught you."

He wasn't the usual Christian. He seemed more insecure, less harsh… as incredible as it sounded.

"I'm sorry. It doesn't happen often, I… I don't know why… I'm sorry… Thank you."

"That's fine. Just… don't do this ever again!" he joked, falsely angry.

I smiled shyly and he offered me a large sincere grin in return. These were so rare that my heart skipped a beat. Actually, I'm wondering if it isn't the first one since I've known him. In any case, he was dazzling me.

The long silence that followed was pleasurable and without awkwardness. I could've stayed like that in this bed for an eternity, but I urged to know something. After I had thought twice about it, I took the plunge.

"Did we… did we do something?" I dared to ask, hoping he would say 'no'… or maybe 'yes'… No, definitely 'no'.

I was sure to be dressed before I fainted; he might have done anything and that was scaring the shit out of me.
Something imperceptibly changed in his attitude, and I knew the normal Christian was about to come back. I regretted my question but it was too late. Obviously, twice is not enough when it comes to Christian Grey. He's so unpredictable.

He looked at me with a raging intensity and then frowned, probably thinking about which mask to wear. He decided to settle on the most common one –the confident seducer- and it had an immediate impact on his lips, which sprawled into a lascivious smile.

"Would you like it to be the case?" he avoided my question, playing with me like a cat with a mouse.

Tom, listen. You should know that Jerry is not used to getting messed around. (At least, I found my dear loving flame of desire again.)

"How long have I been sleeping?" I courageously defied him.

It could've been possible to stay brave if he had stayed seated. But he stood up and began to walk toward the bed like a feline. Now, he was intimidating at the highest point.
I sat up straight and slowly began to move backwards, making sure that I remained covered.

"Why does it matter?" he asked casually.

I wanted to scream 'BECAUSE IT IS NOT NORMAL TO FAINT WITHOUT REASON AND I'M FEELING LIKE A GIRL UNDER FUCKING GHB!' but reconsidered and kept his game going.

"What time is it?"

"What do you remember?"

Ana, keep calm, he's trying to destabilize you.

"Why…" I stopped as he climbed on the bed and drew closer to me until my back hit the headboard.

"Why am I in underwear?" I asked in a murmur.

"Because it suits you incredibly well," he stated.

Yoohoo! First real answer. Nevertheless, it didn't please me. Or does it please me too much? Always two sides of a same reality. Aaaargh he's driving me crazy!

"Christian, did you undress me?" I finally asked the one-million-dollar question.

"Yes," he said brusquely, placing his hands against the wall on either side of my head. I was feeling tiny under him, completely at his mercy. "And you liked it," he added sensuously.

Fuck! I had never contemplated the eventuality that my body could react instinctively when my mind was absent. Given the effect he usually has on me, I don't dare imagining what I might have done.

"No…" I thought out loud to try to reassure me.

"Yes, you did," His nose touched mine. "You moaned…" His lips brushed mine. "And squirmed… and said my name."

What?! No, no, no!

"It didn't occur to you that I might have wanted you to stop?"

"Trust me, you wanted me to continue."

"So why did you forget my undergarments?" I provoked him.

"Who tells you I did?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

His reply let me speechless. Oh mon Dieu. I couldn't think properly anymore. I was aghast by the fact that his touch didn't wake me up. How was it possible? (I take back what I said about my self-preservation instinct being useful.)
Am I still a virgin? It made me giddy. It's fortunate that you're not standing this time. I just wanted to close my eyes and disappear.
God seemed to have listened to me, because when I was about to release my tears, Christian received a phone call. I thought he would ignore it since he didn't bat an eye during the first seconds –watching me intently- but he finally move backwards and pulled out an enormous smartphone from his jeans' back pocket.

"Grey." he said meanly, without taking his eyes off me.

Now that I was free, I jumped out of the bed, seized my clothes which were bent on a night stand and ran out of the room. I looked for the bathroom –where I was pretty sure there would be a lock- which I found quickly. I closed the door behind me and then finally breathed.
What have I gotten myself into? Or rather: what did I get dragged off into? It has to be a nightmare. Please.
I pinched myself and Mr. Pain greeted me with an ironic smile. Damn.
I focused on my respiration and… got intoxicated by the smell. Air was filled with water vapor; Christian being in every single particle. How does he do to always disturb me, even when he's not there?

I observed the room: it was spacious and magnificent. The predominant colors were marine blue and white and the ground was entirely tiled. There was not only a huge bathtub with hundreds of buttons in the corner, but also a modern shower and two sinks whose pipework was copper. Everything was luxurious and immaculate; one could lick the toilet seat without getting any bacteria. (I didn't do it though.)
After a few minutes, I somehow succeeded in clearing my thoughts and put on my clean clothes. By the bye, where was my sportswear? I would have to ask Mr. I-Take-Your-Stuff-So-You're-Forced-To-Meet-Me-Again, because I won't let him play the same card a second time.
I checked the clock: 9:30 pm. Phew! At least, I didn't stay here the whole night. However, I 'slept' more or less half an hour… I'm wondering what knocked me out that much. GHB doesn't make you faint, right? It makes you forget, right? Right?!

Once dressed, I hesitated to open the door. What will I do? What will I say? Ana, look. If he wanted to rape you, it's done. If he wanted to kill you, it would be done. So what are you scared of? He's not going to eat you. The verbs 'rape' and 'kill' made me feel nauseous. But I don't think he's the kind of guy who would fuck a girl when she's unconscious. He's too proud. He surely wants to see the girl come thanks to him, screaming his name… He is not a psychopath, I am cer… I am certain.
For once, my reason –looking at me with pity- didn't say anything. She probably noticed that it wasn't the moment to destroy my positivity. Nonetheless, I could clearly see Valentina through her.
I had a lump in my throat, but she somehow gave me back some courage. I had to face him.
I resolutely activated the latch, swallowed, and opened the door.
I could hear Christian's bewitching voice –almost screaming- coming from the bedroom. I moved forward cautiously and stopped in front of the door, which was ajar.
I was able to eavesdrop a few parts of his telephone conversation.

"What?! It was you?" … "Damn! I can't fucking believe it!" … "You know what I mean." … "Yes, but I demand to be warned!"

His tone was severe and harsh; he was furious. He paused during several seconds and then sighed.

"No, she probably ran away." he said with a mix of bitterness, exasperation and… disappointment?

Is he talking about me? 'Ran away'? Yeah, any normal person would have tried to escape. You chose the bathroom; I don't blame you.
I realized it was true: I haven't even tried to go out. Worse, I chose the bathroom because of him, because of his perfume. I thought it was for the lock but in fact, he hypnotized me. Once again, my body betrayed me. The culprit in question was looking at me apologetically.
I decided to enter to show myself.
I found him in the middle of the room, frowning, his jaw tense. When he saw me, his mouth half-opened and he raised his eyebrows. I could hear Christian's interlocutor screaming through the Samsung Galaxy S5 but Mr. Hotness ignored him and hung up.

"You're here…" he stated in a whisper.

I nodded in silence. His features loosened and during a short moment, he appeared to be happy to see me.
His molten grey eyes were staring at me deeply but he seemed to be conflicted for an unknown reason. An indescribable glint crossed his eyes and then he spoke again bossily.

"You have to go."

I was surprised by his sudden change of tone and posture. Nevertheless, my body didn't need one second to adapt itself.

"Yes… uh, I'm just taking my bag…" I said timidly as I lowered my eyes, adopting a perfect submissive behavior.

Apparently, it pleased him because his voice became hoarser when he guided me.

"It's over there, on the bar."

I hastened to cross the room to seize my belongings. It wasn't difficult to follow his orders —I was born this way— but I would have preferred him to tell me to stay.
I headed for the door but stopped when I heard a clinking behind me. I turned around and saw him waiting, his bunch of keys in his left hand.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm coming with you." he said stone-faced.

"Why…?" I started, but realized I didn't want to hear his explanation; it was out of the question. "No!"

"Yes. It is too late to hang around alone."

"I'm not gonna hang around; I'll directly go back to my bedroom."

"Don't play with words," he threatened me.

I sighed. The soft Christian is definitely gone.

"Christian, I'm big enough to protect myself for fifteen minutes, at 9:30 pm, on a university campus," I argued, exasperated.

What he didn't understand was that he was the only one I was afraid of.

"It's 9:49."

"Oh okaaayyy, it changes everything! I had forgotten that monsters were out only from 9:45 pm!" I almost shouted, rolling my eyes.

I was about to leave when he caught my left shoulder –forcing me to turn over— and pushed me against the door. Even if I was making strides to stand up to him, he was now too close for me to look at him in the eyes. I could feel his body heat imprisoning me like a net, but the alarm signal from my brain was reduced to silence by the wellness this feeling produced for me. I couldn't move. I didn't want to move.

"Anastasia, look at me,." he ordered, lifting my chin with two fingers.

I slowly looked up, hoping the magnetism would work to help me. His gaze was incandescent and his pupils were widely dilated despite the surrounding light.

"First of all, I know this place better than you. If I tell you that it is not safe to be out at this time of night, there is a reason and you don't want to know it. Second, don't roll your eyes in front of me. Third, obey for fuck's sake!"

I started on his last words. He was scaring me. I wanted to escape. But I also wanted to kiss him; his lips —even stiff as currently— were so attractive. They almost got the better of me.
I wanted to be angry but I was too hungry and exhausted for that.

"Yes, sir," I capitulated.

I tried to be sarcastic on the 'sir' but it didn't sound like I wanted it to.
He tilted his head to one side, screwed up his eyes and began to curiously probe me to detect I-don't-know-what. After a few seconds, it was too awkward and uncomfortable for me to hold his stare so I looked away nervously.
He stepped back and I realized I had held my breath so far.

"After you," he said.

I opened the door and dived into the darkness.

The journey to Hamilton went in silence, Christian walking at my side. His constant inspection of the area showed me he wasn't at ease but he was displaying a determined expression. What does stress him that much? Me getting attacked or him being seen with me? I had millions of questions to ask but it seemed never to be the moment.
We passed nobody, there was neither threat nor danger, but his pace was so fast that I almost had to run and it was wearing me out. I should've said no. I felt tears rushing to my eyes. That's what happens when I'm too tired: the least one can do makes me cry. A hypothetic rape isn't the least one can do. Thanks for reminding me that!
The salty fluid was silently streaming down my face as we were finally reaching the building.
He mechanically opened the door like a gentleman but didn't pay attention to me; he was too busy scrutinizing around.
I entered and quickly headed for my room without waiting for Christian. I just wanted to be away from him; I wanted to indulge in crying and try to fix my thoughts, which were muddled since my waking.
Predictably enough, he rejoined me when I was still looking for my key. The pressure created by his gaze on me was the straw that broke the camel's back. I burst into tears.

"Hey! What's wrong?" Christian asked, concerned.

He was gently trying to force me to look at him but I rejected him.

"No… no… nothing… That's f… fine. Don't… don't touch me. Pl…please go." I stammered.

He ignored my remark, took my key out of my hand and then opened the door. I didn't want him to enter; I wanted him to leave!
My exhaustion tears turned into rage tears. He thinks he can do whatever he wants… You let him do what he wants. But how the hell can I rival?! He uses his fucking influence on me and his fucking strength to compel me to do what he's expecting from me!
As if he wanted to proof what I had just said, he took me by the hand and pulled me inside.

"Let me alone," I somehow ordered as Mr. Anger was drying my tears.

"I will not leave until I'm sure you're fine," he told me unwaveringly.

Since when does he care?

"Sit down," he instructed me.

I tried to remove my hand from his grip but he tightened his hold. My lacrimal glands chose this moment to let me down.

"I… I have… I've…" My sobbing was making me hiccup and I was wondering if it would end up passing.

"Anastasia, calm down. Please, calm down." he begged.

He cupped my face and his eyes were desperately looking for mine. These were now light grey –mellow and breathtaking- encouraging me to talk.

"What's wrong?"

"Christian, I've done… I've done everything you wanted… Please…" I pleaded with him, unable to stop crying.

He released me, frowned and then his face darkened.

"It's me who makes you cry," He stated.

His look was vacant; he seemed downhearted and confused.

"No, no, no…" I shook my head, lying to try to reassure him.

I was feeling so stupid right now. What kind of girl cries when the most beautiful man in the planet takes care of her? An idiot. Yes… I had to relax, but for that, I had to know the truth. Valentina's face was still haunting me.

"You did not answer my question earlier…" I began.

He concentrated back on me with an impenetrable gaze.

"Did we… did you do something?" I swallowed.

My cheeks were on fire and looking at him was impossible; I was so ashamed.

"Is that what you think? That I raped you?" he asked.

"I… I don't know what to think. I don't know you and… I don't remember anything."

"Because there is nothing to remember. I can't…" he sighed. "I can't believe you think I'd do that."

His tone was reproachful and tinged with disdain.
Of course. How could I think during one second that he would like to have sex with me? My heart became uncomfortably heavy.

"I'm sorry." I apologized. "I… absolutely don't know why I thought…" I blinked back tears, embarrassed.

"Wait, are you doubting your sex appeal?" he cut me, reading me like an open book.

"It was stupid… Forget what I said." I shook my head, avoiding his question and his inquisitive gaze.

"Anastasia," he came closer to me and leaned to murmur in my ear "when I will fuck you, you will not be able to walk for two days."

Oh My! My kinky side woke up in a start while my eyes opened wide and met Christian's indecent stare. It was so rude but I liked it so much. His husky voice had the effect of a lust bomb: my body shook in anticipation, I got wet down there and butterflies took my lower abdomen by storm. He said 'when'. Not 'if'. Yeeeehaaa!

His–now almost black—eyes shuttled back and forth between mine and my mouth. It paralyzed my mind but I felt my hips seductively wave despite myself. His pelvis responded immediately and joined mine, unveiling Christian's impressive erection through his jeans. Wow! It can't be thanks to me, I can't be the cause of…
His lips touched mine a split second. (My brain is officially in the recovery room but I don't think it will get by.)
He slightly moved away and stared at me with vehemence. He was clearly asking for permission and it surprised me. He was not the kind of man who acts like that; he doesn't ask, he takes.
The seductress in me–unknown so far- deliberately bit her lower lip as an authorization, curious and excited to test its effect again. It's called suicide!
Christian's body tensed automatically, and before I could prepare myself, his lips crashed into mine. Damn! He sucked… licked… snatched my lips before forcing them apart with his tongue. Because no attempt to repulse him was conceivable… And because that's what you were craving. Yes, and because that's what I was craving, I let him in and my tongue began to dance with his timidly. Ere long, he took me by the nape of my neck to deepen his kiss. He was harsh but I didn't care, it was too good. Wild waves of desire were washing over me. In two minutes, he made me experience sadness, anger, distress, lust and intense pleasure. This man is driving me mad.
When I began to run out of air, I started back and he gently bit my lower lip to cling to me. When my back touched the wall next to the door, he went away to let me breathe but stayed very close, imprisoning me between his two arms.

"Will you come to the party on Friday?" he jerkily whispered, catching his breath.

After such a kiss, it would have been crazy to refuse. (He knew it.) I hadn't a lot of comparison elements, but I knew it was a great one. My thoughts were still as mixed up as earlier but I was in a bit of a haze; dazzled by him.

"Yes…" I murmured.

I didn't know it yet, but for my mental health, I should've said no.

I hope you liked it, let me your impressions! See you soon for the rest... :)