Author's note: Back from ski trip with a sprained knee; not too serious, but my movements are hampered, so I got this much done overnight, and thought that some is better than none. My gratitude to the reader who helped me understand Domestic Discipline a little better, but would rather not be named. DD will remain a part of our lovers' lives, but only a small part.

Oh, thanks to my left knee trying to fold sideways, I had time to read fanfic while I was away, but not to review. If you're one of my favorite authors and also read this, I hope you'll understand.

Thank you, for reading.

Chapter Thirty-eight

This evening, the mid-latitude cyclone officially known as Friedhelm, but which the Scots almost immediately dubbed Hurricane Bawbag – from their word for "scrotum" – struck the west coast and cut a swathe across the land; bombarding Scotland with torrential rain and hurricane strength winds, lifting roof tiles and knocking over chimneys throughout Britain, and covering the entire nation in a thick carpet of fresh snow. Some people north of York are already without power, and roads in and around Lake Windermere are closed due to flash flooding.

But Ana and Christian know nothing of this, and have enjoyed a lovely dinner in one of the hotel's private dining rooms before saying goodnight to Bree and Carla. Unconcerned about the constant howl of the gale outside, they're holding hands as Lea checks their suite for the last time today and bids them goodnight. Alone, behind a locked door, Christian presses Ana back against the wall – mindful of the fetal bump between them – securing both her hands as he kisses her with an intensity to rival the tempest raging around them. When she's able to speak, Ana pleads, "No."

Pulling back enough to look at her, more curious than upset, he asks, "No?"

Lust, love and pure delight evident in her expression and tone, Ana reminds him, "You promised; I get to make love to you tonight."

Smiling, Christian immediately releases Ana and takes a step back, saying, "So I did. Where do you want me, Mrs. Grey?"

Hesitating only a moment, mainly to catch her breath, Ana says, "Uh, naked on the bed."

With a fierce grin, he starts stripping, but hasn't got very far when his phone starts repeatedly chanting, "Boss!"

With an apologetic grimace, Christian reveals, "Ros. I left strict instructions that she not call my cell unless it's an emergency."

Unable to control the disappointment she feels at this development, Ana pouts, "A work emergency."

Immediately on guard against her mood change, Christian accepts the call with a brusque "Wait," and explains to Ana, "Yes. Ros doesn't dick around. If she's calling me, it's important."

When Ana holds out her hand for the phone, Christian hesitates, everything about him expressing wariness. Managing to keep a straight face, Ana reinforces her demand with a flourish of her fingers, and he complies. Still deadpan, Ana tells Christian's trusted subordinate, "Ros? It's Ana. We were just about to have sex, so if you could not keep Christian very long, I'd appreciate it." She doesn't hear the stuttered reply, as the phone has already been snatched from her hand. "I saw a library off the foyer. I'll be there with Lea when you're done."

It's the most daring thing she's done for a while, and her heart is hammering at her own audacity as Ana picks up her bodyguard on the way and heads to the hotel library, which turns out to be extensive, and features many quality editions that she'd be happy to have in her home. She's sitting cross-legged on the sofa, lost in a world of literature, even the smell of the old tomes answering some deep-seated need in her, when the book is removed from her hands as someone almost fiercely kisses the back of her neck.

Surprisingly, she'd actually managed to forget antagonizing Christian earlier. But her heart remembers and is thumping against her ribcage when she reminds him, "You promised."

His tone deliciously threatening, Christian calmly says, "A promise I intend to keep, after I fuck you."

Since the whole point of her rebellion was to make Christian this desperate, Ana asks only, "Cameras?"

Christian nips her shoulder, sending a shudder of pleasure through her body and says, "Corridor only."

Even though she'd been too preoccupied to notice it happening, Ana knows that Lea will now be outside the shut door, barring entrance to anyone. She also knows that Christian will never really hurt her, but the echo of who he was – that man who liked to beat women before fucking them – ensures that some part of Ana's mind is screaming at her to flee. Instead, she turns and kneels to face him, reaching a hand towards his belt buckle.

Leaning the top of his thighs against the low sofa to facilitate her plan, Christian rapt stare follows Ana's every move as she frees his hardening dick and encourages it with her hand a few times before taking it in her mouth, drawing a deep, satisfied sigh from him at the rightness of it. Still riled up and incredibly turned on by her earlier impertinence, he knows that she is not only expecting, but actually craving a little roughness from him. As always, eager to fulfill her needs, he threads both hands through her hair in an apparently gentle caress, then suddenly tugs it hard enough to just hurt; his dick pulsing in delight when the slight pain causes a moan of pleasure deep in her throat.

Using that grip to guide her movements, he fucks her sweet mouth until he's ready to explode. But this is not where he wants to finish. So he withdraws from her with a delightful moist popping sound that almost pushes him over the edge. Ana's beautiful face looks up at him in dazed bewilderment, hands gripping the back of the sofa as she awaits his instructions, so he snarls, "Don't fucking move." He knows that this is exactly what both of them need when her only reply is a knowing smile.

Quickly moving behind her, he sees that her dress is already hiked up her thighs a little, so it doesn't take much effort to expose her lilywhite bottom. Pondering for a moment the likelihood of being able to exact his "revenge" on her willing flesh without attracting attention from either the proprietors, patrons, or their travelling companion: she-who-must-not-be-named-during-sex, he settles for kneading her buttocks in a brutal caress as he demands, "Did you deliberately provoke me, when you knew that I wouldn't be able to immediately do anything about it?"

Christian's love for his wife only grows when Ana gleefully replies, "You bet your fucking ass I did, Sir."

Struggling not to laugh in celebration of her courage, he grabs his cock and pushes it between her clenched upper thighs, sliding the tip against her clit and coating both of them in her juices as he "admonishes", "That was a very, very naughty thing to do."

Ana's white-knuckle grip on the sofa, sheen of sweat on her lower back and almost constant mewling sound in her throat confirms that she's ready for him when she manages to groan, "Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir."

It's too much. "Fuck, baby, I nearly fucking came right then."

Reaching one hand down to guide him into her, Ana uses one of the phrases guaranteed to make him lose control, "No one's stopping you, Mr. Grey."

He waits only until she's again gripping the back of the sofa before grasping her hips and plunging into her with everything he has, and is rewarded by the sight of Ana biting the back of her hand to stifle her rapturous screams, the move accentuating the curve of her elegant neck and causing her hair to cascade over her face. By now he doesn't give a fuck if she screams her pleasure to the rooftops, so he knots a hand in her hair and pulls back, almost again losing his load when she yelps in pain and surprise. Now able to look down on her face stretched in ecstasy, he sets up a punishing rhythm until, only seconds later, white hot pleasure erupts within him, exploding out from his ejaculating cock in orgasmic waves until he's literally and figuratively drained.

When he comes to his senses, his fingers are enmeshed in Ana's where they still rest on the furniture. Easing his weight a little from her, he tenderly kisses the back of her neck and gasps, "I forgive you."

Ana giggles, that wonderful warm sound that promises redemption for all his sins, and says, "I thought you might." He gently withdraws from her and they silently repair their appearance. She moves onto his lap as if he'd actually voiced that wish, then asks, "Not too much? And is Ros okay? I don't want to really make her uncomfortable. It was just…I kind of got carried away."

First offering a reassuring kiss, Christian says, "Not too much, though I'll thank you not to try that with all my employees. Ros and I have known each other long enough that it wasn't too excruciating. What the fuck made you think of that?"

"Uh, I dunno…I guess it was just the literal truth, and I knew it would excite you."

Idly caressing her face, he ponders, "Weird, isn't it; we start talking about resuming Discipline and you're suddenly provoking me, when you haven't done anything like that for months, despite being at the whim of hormones and under a lot of stress."

With a serene smile, Ana says, "Not really that weird. I love it when you punish me."

A triumphant grin spreading over his features, Christian asks, "Did you ever imagine saying those words to me?"

Again, that wonderful, lilting laugh and she simply says, "No." Suddenly serious, she continues, "Speaking of which, I'm not sure it's going to work, other than as foreplay."

Guessing that she's talking about his proposal to help with her to-do list, Christian is also serious when he says, "Yeah, that occurred to me, too. You're likely to fuck up, just so I'll spank you, even if I keep it separate from play. This is a new approach for me, baby, and I want it to work, so I'm open to suggestions. I'm happy to get inventive, but you're really not a fan of humiliation, and it might prove too much for you on a regular basis."

He knows that Ana is contemplating something that scares her when she gnaws on her lip for a few seconds before releasing it. "What about…maybe we could try implements?"

Fuck! It's not a need; he's turned those old urges inside out with Flynn, making sure that his desires now match Ana's, but just the thought of taking a cane or paddle to her precious behind…. Shuffling a little, to accommodate his growing erection, he nervously asks, "Like what?"

Of course, she notices and wriggles a little as she cheerfully says, "Well, someone is happy with the idea." Immediately back to nervous, she asks, "What do you recommend? I've done some research and…I'm not sure I'll ever want the cane, I'm sorry."

Clutching her to him, desperate for her to understand, Christian says, "Hey, don't apologize. If you don't want it, then neither do I. We could try a wooden paddle? It's a cliché for a reason."

Wondering if he'll be able to get through this conversation without again fucking her, when Ana squirms in unconscious pleasure at the thought of him paddling her, he's using every technique he knows to calm his breathing when she guilelessly asks, "Does it hurt?"

Smiling at her innocence, remarkable after all they've done together, Christian says, "Like a son of a bitch, sweetheart; that's kind of the point."

Nestling her head against his neck, as if trying to burrow into him, Ana's voice is barely audible when she asks, "What if it turns out that I like that, too?"

"I seriously doubt that, baby. You're only intrigued by the idea of it. Once you've felt it you'll know why it's been used for hundreds of years to correct wayward wives."

Daring to threaten his ticklish ribs, Ana echoes, "Wayward?"

Letting her win, he amends, "Okay; wonderful. Now, there was some talk of making love to me? I think we're pushing our luck if we do that here."

"You don't need to talk about this some more?"

"Not unless you do. I know we've been literally flirting with Discipline since the last time we discussed it, but we've also agreed to wait until we get back before officially resuming."

Suddenly standing, Ana smiles and offers her hand as she says, "You're right, it can wait. Come on; I have a pressing need to make love to my husband."

Accepting her hand and rising to his feet beside her, Christian knows that he would follow wherever she leads as he earnestly declares, "Lucky bastard."