As she stood motionless beneath the shower, Anastasia could imagine nothing but Christian. She had, of late, been torn between her need for sleep and her desire for Christian. She knew, where her work was concerned, that it would be best for her to nourish her mind but she was too easily swayed by the sight of his bare skin these days. Upon the start of the month she had known not such foolhardy pleasure that could render even her most stress filled moments sweeter than a dream. Sweetness, however, was not quite an emotion he tended to evoke in her. The fiery intensity of passion did not as much match sweetness as pain, but a pain from which discomfort did not arise. Even the thought of the pain made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She was surprised at the restraint she had shown, shutting the door to him as she turned to have her shower but she could not help but feel just a tiny bit disappointed.

When the door slammed open not thirty seconds later her body was flooded both with relief and adrenaline. Surely it's a waste for a body like that to be covered by clothing most of the time, she thought, frustrated. His chiseled hips pressed her backwards, not giving her a single moment of freedom. His hands walked purposefully over her, sliding, grasping, pulling. Her hair streamed in long brown tendrils down her back only to be captured by his fingers and twisted into a knot, dragging her up the wall a little way so that all her weight was upon him. He was panting hard, she wasn't sure if that meant she was too heavy for him or he was just excited. She pressed her mouth to his, slowing his breathing, sharing the air inside of him. His hands were beneath her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist, squeezing him to her even more tightly.

He let go of her with one hand to hit softly against the wall, he wished so much that he had brought his riding crop, he longed for the feeling it brought both of them. It was as if she read his mind, she brought the towel upon his back with a crack and he knew what to do. He took it from her hand, spun her body so that her chest was pressed to the cool wall of the shower, making her shiver. The towel snapped and crackled against her skin. She writhed and moaned in pleasure, it satisfied him incredibly to hear and see her like this. He thought of nothing but the sound and the feeling as her spun her back towards him and pulled her onto him. He had always loved locks and this was the kind he wanted to slide his key into and never take it out.

Eventually they detangled themselves and managed to return to their previous cleanness. "Who needs coffee after a wakeup like that?"

She picked up her bag but dreaded it, she felt as though her bag represented her chastity and there was nothing she wanted less than to have Christian not inside of her. "Mr Casey awaits." She tried to sound content but she could barely contain the amount of effort she was using to keep her pants on.

It took ten hours, six coffees and an amount of gin that would probably not be advised during working hours but she got Mr Casey from her office in a state of mild satisfaction that thankfully did not leave her feeling as if her life was in danger. Jenny had sat in with them most of the day, sorting furiously through the papers she had thrown at her, which had comforted Anastasia greatly. However, as usual, her main comfort was the knowledge that Christian would be ready for her, just as eager as she, to take away every layer of stress and unnecessary clothing before clearing her mind once agiain.

The two women sat now, on the floor, amongst a blanket of papers, holding coffee mugs that most certainly did not contain coffee. "This man you met," Jenny began with curious wonder, "what on earth has he done to you?"

Anastasia smile dreamily, "I honestly haven't the slightest idea. He really is the most different thing I've ever experienced."

"He's clearly doing something very out of the ordinary to keep you so interested for this long." Anastasia had not had a lasting relationship, or hardly a relationship at all, for years. She would meet someone, just get comfortable and then lose herself in work and him in the process. The way Christian had not given up on her yet made her grateful but slightly suspicious at the same time.

"He just has this thing about him I guess." She was pensive. "And his body!"

They two women swooned a little, laughed and heaved themselves up from the floor. It had been another long, long day that didn't need any encouragement to become a marathon.

She could swear she'd only seen sunlight once a day for the last week and this didn't change as she stepped into the late evening air. Christian had taken to driving her too and from work now, it had become up to his plans where she ate and slept as well. She didn't mind this break from reality, it made her feel like a child again, in only the best ways. She didn't hear him coming, his car was as silent as his intent. He could only keep one hand on the steering wheel as he drove, her prescience was too tempting not to touch.

She managed to keep herself from taking him right there for long enough for them to park safely and make it to the elevator. No once needs the elevator at this time of night, he thought flippantly and ripped her blouse from her shoulders in one movement. The walls were close and cushioned, making any movement they made feel safe and steady. This is no good, he sighed, his notebook hitting her thigh as a replacement. He still wasn't entirely sure whether she just had an incredibly high pain tolerance or was truly the most perfect girl he had ever experienced. Her reactions to his blows were often blows of her own, although not of the painful kind. Although her mouth still was not his favourite of her body parts.

The doors opened with a ding and they fell through into his apartment. They lights were off but they found their way to the green room of cane without a problem. The riding crop seemed to leap into his hand and posses a magnetism to her. The cracks it made on impact sent the most inexplicable buzz between their two bodies that they could almost not contain themselves. Their vocal chords began to run rough, their muscles wavering yet full of electricity, willing them to stop but continue at the same time.

When they eventually did stop, moving was not an option. They sprawled, exhausted on the mattress, it's firmness supporting them bravely.

"So, how was your day then?" Her speech was raspy.

"Well," He began the way he did when he had a story to recount. "I was sitting in this coffee shop today and when the waiter brought me my receipt he was sniggering all over the place so I asked what the problem was and he just pointed to where my name was printed at the bottom, my middle name had been printed too." He was laughing but she could tell he was also dead serious. "So I just looked him straight in the face and said 'So what if my middle name is "Wonderwall", my parents named me after Oasis' best song and at least my music choice is better than yours' and he just turned and walked off. Like, where is the respect man?"

She hardly had the energy to laugh but she did the best she could. They gave up on conversation and just lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling and enjoying the sound of their panting as a constant reminder of the pleasure they had just experienced and would experience one again soon enough.