Chapter Forty-two

It's almost midnight and Christian is sitting up in bed—now clad in his own clothes: t-shirt and pajama pants—when he hears footsteps hurriedly approaching. It can only be Ana. So he puts his laptop to one side and is standing to greet her when the door bursts open and several shopping bags tumble to the floor as she rushes into his arms so fast that he's barely taken a step. Joyful laughter rolling from him at her enthusiasm, he lets her impetus force them back onto the bed, mindful of their son as they fall. Even as her lips lock onto his and he closes his eyes to better answer this shared need, he sees the door close on Lea's smiling face.

When they finally come up for air, he has the beginning of an erection and they're both breathing heavily. Again laughing, wondering when it became so easy for him, he gasps, "Hey, baby. Miss me?" When Ana merely lowers her head to rest against his shoulder, he guesses that she's thinking of his brush with icy death. One hand stroking her hair, the other caressing calming circles on her back, he says, "Hey, I'm okay, I swear; some scratches on my chest from the ice…maybe some bruising tomorrow. But I'm honestly fine."

Either it's not enough, or it's irrelevant to what Ana is feeling, because a shudder goes through her as she starts silently weeping. Shuffling, so that he can cradle her to him, Christian says nothing as his wife lets her body react to the danger he faced today. It hurts that his actions have indirectly caused her suffering, but he knows it's not really about what happened, rather what might have happened. And he understands all too well the terror of "What if?"

When she's finally cried out, Christian reaches out to grab the box of Kleenex from the nightstand and taps her shoulder with it. Ana takes a few and repairs her appearance before mumbling, "Thank you. You don't want me to say I'm sorry."

One corner of his mouth lifting at the fact that it basically is an apology, he says, "No, I don't. You've done nothing wrong. Do I need to apologize?"

"No. I understand why you couldn't have done anything else. Though, from the way Pru retells it, just working out that Lucy was skating saved her life. You didn't have to actually be the one who jumped in after her."

It honestly hadn't occurred to him, but Christian realizes, "You're right. I didn't even think about that. Though Tom was the next closest, and it occurred to me that he might not be able to stay detached enough to think it through."

Ana finally manages a weak laugh and points out, "Says the guy who launched himself onto a frozen lake, wearing only jeans and a sweater, knowing that he'd end up in the water."

Incredibly relieved that one good cry seems to have appeased her fears, he smiles and confesses, "You got me." Praying that it really was enough for her, he then asks, "We're okay?"

Resting a gentle hand on his chest, she says, "We're okay." Suddenly sitting up, she commands, "Show me the damage." When Christian hesitates, Ana calmly asks, "You'd rather return to always having sex with your clothes on?"

Smiling at memories, Christian says "You asked for it, Mrs. Grey," as he sheds the t-shirt.

Ana hisses her distress at seeing the many shallow abrasions on his torso, and reaches out a hand to not quite touch the few deeper cuts, now concealed by bandages. Her voice seems to hold a blend of both love and resigned pain when she quietly asks, "More scars?"

Suddenly desperate for her touch, as if that alone can erase any bad thing that's ever happened to him, Christian takes her hand and holds the palm flat against his abused chest as he promises, "No, darling; they'll heal. And, since meeting you, even my scars don't hurt as much."

Moisture again fills Ana's eyes—this time he knows they're good tears—but she blinks them away and brusquely, says, "Right. I'm going to brush my teeth, pee for the umpteenth time today and get ready for bed. You are going to get naked and stay warm under the covers while you wait for me, okay?"

Remembering their earlier conversation, Christian smiles and says, "Yes, dear."

Christian wakes to someone tenderly kissing his chest. For a fraction of a second, a memory of psychosomatic pain at being touched sends his heart-rate skyrocketing and he tenses, terrified that he's about to "disappear" and embarrass himself. But there is only one person in his entire life who has done this for him, so he's smiling as he opens his eyes, to see a shock of luxuriant brown hair covering his torso while Ana treats each fresh wound with her oh-so-soft lips. Reaching out a hand to lazily caress her now naked back, he says, "Mmm…nice. I fell asleep, didn't I?"

Ana giggles and lifts her head to smile and say, "Yes, darling. Well, you did have an eventful day. I figured you wouldn't mind if I woke you."

Lifting Ana astride him, not yet presuming that she wants intercourse right away—his cock isn't quite ready, anyway…though a few seconds under her warm, wet pussy should do the trick—he smiles and says, "Not at all. I'm surprised you're not tired."

Ana blushes a little and says, "I slept most of the way back. I think my body is now programmed to fall unconscious when I'm in the Range Rover; it's so comfortable."

"Maybe we should get one? We'll need a bigger car soon…though we'll probably want something a little more city-friendly. Audi doesn't really do minivans, but the Chrysler 'Town and Country' might be a good choice for us; it meets all my safety requirements, easily seats seven people in luxurious comfort…or four and a baby capsule safe in the middle of the last row, has heaps of storage capacity and, loaded with optional extras, will be…." She's staring at him, clearly amused by something he's said. "What?"

Visibly struggling not to laugh, Ana snorts, "Minivan."

Finally catching on, and remembering a conversation from before they were married, he chuckles—because it really is kind of funny—and asks, "Christian Grey shopping for minivans?" When Ana unleashes her delighted smile with a stilted giggle and a nod, he grins and continues, "Oh, you'd be amazed at some of the websites I visit nowadays, Mrs. Grey. And I'm very much enjoying my research on nursing bras."

Ana laughs and says, "I can understand the attraction of a bra with easy access. But, darling, I don't need your help choosing everyday underwear. I've been doing so for a long time."

"Until you learn to be a little selfish, I'll continue to be concerned about every aspect of your life." Reaching up to cup her breasts and lift them a little, he continues, "And we need to look after these puppies while you're feeding our baby."

With a suddenly wicked gleam in her eye, Ana says, "How about we both shop for my nursing bras; make an afternoon of it?"

The idea goes straight to his groin, where his dick is still sandwiched between them and now growing. "How the hell is that such a sexy idea?"

Ana laughs and says, "Well, I presume you're picturing a quickie in the change room?"

"I am now." Grasping her hips and lifting her a little, he asks "Ready, baby?" And then he wonders if every man who has a lover feels this lucky when Ana's only answer is to reach between them and facilitate his plan, and their bodies join with a mutual sigh of pleasure. "You know why this position was never that attractive to me, before you. But it's fast becoming my favorite."

Rubbing a hand over her now prominent belly, Ana says, "Maybe because you can see the proof of your potency?"

The word sounds so good from her lips that he tries it out, caressing the syllables as they leave his mouth, "Potency. Yes, perhaps. But I think it's more that…much as I love it when you let me run the show, it's as if, when we fuck like this, we do so more as equals; just man and wife, celebrating their love for each other."

Ana smiles and teases, "Don't tell me you've finally gone completely vanilla on me, Grey?"

"Hardly. I'm missing the playroom just as much as you do. And, why do you make jokes when you know I'm being sincere?" He has his theories, but keeps quiet; wondering if Ana is even aware of her true motives.

"Uh, I don't really know…something to ask Flynn? I'm sorry, darling."

It's enough, for now, so he smiles to show he's not upset and says, "Well, play with my balls for a bit and I'll forgive you."

With a lecherous grin, Ana clenches her internal muscles, clasping his cock in a tight embrace, even as she reaches behind to lift and caress his balls with both hands, dragging a delicate fingernail along the bottom of his shaft as she does so, and suggests, "Why don't you lie back and think of England?"

A profound sigh of pleasure escapes him and, noting the absence of "Sir", he asks, "Feel like fucking me, Mrs. Grey?"

Her voice sounding far away, as doing this for him also gives her pleasure, Ana says, "I do. Just this one, okay? After being so worried about you earlier, I feel the need to…oh, fuck, I just want to fuck you."

Delighted that she's so eager, Christian reaches up to grip the bedhead, praying that it's strong enough, and borrows one of her favorite phrases, "No one's stopping you, Mrs. Grey."

"Thank you, darling."

With Ana's absolute and profound need to be subjugated during sex, this particular position—especially if he remains a passive (though extremely willing) participant—means that her orgasm is merely a tantalizing concept on a distant horizon. But it's always worth the wait. For his part, not caressing her as she rides him first slowly and then increasingly frantically, as ecstasy takes hold of her, is one of the most challenging things he's ever endured. But delaying his orgasm so that he can watch her climax, knowing that her love for him and his cock inside her is the only reason for it…the release is incredible; an explosive celebration of their union that rocks, not just his body, but his world, too. He'll never get tired of it…never get tired of her.

An apparent eternity later, her eyes closed as passion consumes her, covered in a sheen of perspiration and soft moans coming from her throat, Ana suddenly slaps her palms onto Christian's chest as she grinds away at him, alternatively riding up and down and gyrating her hips. The sharp pain, as she blindly digs her fingernails into his injured chest, provides an excellent focus so that he's able to remain in control as an expression of pure bliss transforms her already stunning features into something almost angelic, and she offers up his name in long, sibilant celebration of sin as she pulses through an orgasm, reflexively trapping his cock in a desperate, unconscious bid to make him come. It's his cue. Clutching her hips, fingers splayed under her buttocks and further supporting her weight with his forearms clenched along her thighs, he lifts her almost off him then slams her back down, even as thrusts up to meet her.

This time she is truly lost and her eyes fly open as she screams his name, beyond caring whether anyone can hear, as this second orgasm somehow catches and then eclipses the first. Usually, when they're like this, he'd be riding those waves with her, or quickly finish with a few more thrusts. Tonight, he feels the need to make it only about her. He understands, perhaps better than anyone, what she would have endured today after the graphic reminder that they're both in danger, every moment of every day.

Ana is, as much as her swollen belly will permit, splayed across his chest, breathing hard and trembling as the aftershocks of pleasure travel through her body. Careful to avoid the more sensitive areas, Christian caresses her back, mindful of the fact that she could well have another emotional outburst. After a while, she squirms a little and says, "You're not done."

Nothing in her tone gives him a clue what she's feeling, so he merely says, "I am if you are."

Sitting up, she says, "I told you, Mr. Grey; you're grounded for scaring me like that, so—"

Looking at his chest, for the explanation to her sudden silence and horrified expression, he sees that the vivid, red marks from her fingernails have bisected and reopened a couple of today's scratches, so that fresh blood is pooling in the grooves. "It's nothing, baby. Doesn't even hurt."

Somewhat appeased, Ana warily asks, "Swear?"

Laughing a little at her childish mistrust, he crosses his heart, avoiding the wounds, and echoes, "Swear."

Wondering how she can still manage to shock him, after all they've been through, in and out of the playroom, Christian's heart feels like it's about to burst or suddenly stop beating…maybe both, when Ana's gaze darkens with renewed lust as she delicately dabs a finger in the blood and stares seemingly into his very soul while she sucks his very life essence from the tip.

Something…some sound—too primitive to be called words—rumbles up from his core and erupts out his mouth. What happens next is so fast that even he almost can't follow it, but Ana is on her knees, hands behind her back in his iron grip, her face and shoulders resting on the bed as he pounds into her for all he's worth. Only seconds later, sweet release courses through him as he empties into her, grunting like a base animal and loving every second of it. Immediately releasing her wrists, he rolls them both onto their side, still joined, so that she'll be more comfortable, and wraps his arms around her as he kisses her shoulder, too out of breath to voice his gratitude for her incredibly reliable instincts. Only then becoming aware of the slight pulsing around his now drained cock, he's a little in awe as he gasps, "Another one, Anastasia?"

He can not only see, but feel, the hot blush on her skin and she says, "Maybe I did miss you…just a little."

"Well, maybe I missed you, too." She's quiet for so long that he asks, "Baby?"

"You don't usually say that."

"That I've missed you while you were away?" Though he can't think of an example, he protests, "I'm sure I say it."

Ana shakes her head and says, "Hardly ever. And you're usually too busy lecturing me to say it before I go."

She must be right. It's not something she'd lie about. Resisting the old instinct to feel like a failure, he thinks about it for a while and says, "That's why you usually joke that you won't miss me at all?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to put pressure on you."

Resisting the urge to apologize, aware that Ana understands probably better than he does why he's still crap at this stuff, he asks, "The fact that we're discussing this means you think I'll do better from now on?"

Turning in his arms, leaving his rapidly waning erection bereft of her snug presence, Ana searches his face as she says, "I guess so. But I won't mind if you forget or can't do it. I know you love me. You're okay about this?"

A hint of guilt nagging at him, Christian shrugs and says, "Mostly. I don't like feeling that I'm yet again the dunce of relationship school. But I know you don't hold it against me." Shrugging of all negative thoughts, he holds her a little tighter and says, "And, though I'm sure you already know, I would like to say that I miss you terribly any time we're not together. Fuck, I even missed you while you were in the bathroom just now. Whenever you leave me, for whatever reason, it's as if the best part of me goes with you. I don't feel quite whole until you're again by my side." At her dazzling smile, he asks, "You going to fuck me again?"

"Not tonight." Glancing at the clock, she says, "Well, not this morning. I'm exhausted after following Pru all over London. Oh, we didn't have our twenty minutes."

"If I'm grounded, we have time to catch up today." Quickly kissing her, he asks, "Need to pee again? Or shall I fetch you a cloth?"

"I'll go. I swear my bladder is squashed to the size of a grape; your son must be enormous."

"Oh, he's my son, now?"

Donning a t-shirt as she leaves the bed, Ana says, "He is when he's riding my bladder."

Christian laughs and points out, "The way you were riding me earlier, I don't think you can entirely blame Junior."

She's disappearing into the bathroom as she counters, "Blip."

Christian bothers with the pajamas again. Though the ancient oil heater radiates steady warmth at all hours, the room still gets cold just before dawn. He's almost again asleep when Ana returns and climbs under the covers, into his arms. After accepting her tender kiss, he means every word when he says, "I missed you."

Ana laughs and says, "You're not going to say that after every time I've left the room, are you?"

"Figured I need the practice. Sweet dreams, baby."

Snuggling against him, Ana yawns and says, "I missed you, too." His arm is outstretched to turn off the lamp when she asks, "Oh, how did Grace take the news of your icy plunge?"

"Why would I tell Mom? She'll just worry needlessly."

Sitting up to better level her disapproving look at him, Ana says, "You think she'll worry less when she learns from some news report that billionaire Christian Grey, while vacationing in Britain with his wife, dove into a frozen lake to save a small child?"

She's right. This will almost certainly reach Seattle. "Fuck." Glancing at the time, he grabs his phone as he says, "It's still early back home. I'll call her from the en suite. You need sleep."

"Say 'hi' for me."

She looks so cute, snuggled under the covers, that he can't resist kissing her again, and says, "You got it, Adorable Ana."

He's torn between love and lust when she closes her eyes, a soft smile on her lips as she murmurs, "Darling Dominant."

"Baby? Baby, wake up."

It's Christian's voice, and the lamp beside him is way too bright, but that's all Ana knows as she wakes. Then noticing that she's grasping his penis through the front slit in his pajamas—his very erect penis—she has a flashback to the dream she'd just been having and withdraws her hand as if stung. "What the…? Was I doing that in my sleep?"

Infuriatingly, Christian only laughs, apparently delighted with the idea, and says, "Looks like you can't get enough of me, even in your dreams."

Distressed to have so little control over her body, Ana sits up as she says, "Not funny, Grey. What if I'd woken up astride you?"

Still with that smug grin, Christian says, "Then I would have let you finish before waking you."

Starting to see the funny side of it, Ana smiles and asks, "What do you think Flynn would say about this one?"

Suddenly serious, Christian says, "Maybe that you're feeling needy after my swim?"

She can see that he's worried about her reaction. But she already wept over that and feels surprisingly okay about it now. "Well, I'd rather you didn't make a habit of it, but I'm all right." Resting a hand on his still prominent erection, she continues, "Maybe I'm just horny, Mr. Grey?"

It's all the permission he needs. Ana feels that familiar thrill burn through her as he throws the covers aside and gently forces her back onto the bed, even as he slides her t-shirt up over her head. "Is this one of your favorites?"

"No. Go for it."

With a few, deft twists of the fabric, he turns the garment into improvised handcuffs and lifts her a moment to hook them over the bedpost. "Too tight?"

"No." Then laughing, Ana asks, "This isn't going to be quick, is it?"

Pushing Ana's thighs apart and kneeling between them, Christian grins and says, "No, ma'am. It's almost dawn. Let's see if we can wake up the household, shall we?"

There's unmistakable macho pride in his tone, and Ana marvels that, in less than two weeks, he's gone from freaking out about people knowing that they have sex, to wanting to show off. About to agree, Ana suddenly thinks up a new game and resists smiling as she says, "No, Sir."

At first frowning in confusion, Christian studies her face for a while, then grins and echoes, "No? You're saying that you refuse to make a sound this time?" When Ana's only answer is to clench her lips shut, he laughs and says, "Whilst I always welcome and applaud your ingenuity, baby, you can't keep quiet even when I gag you."

Determined to let this play out, now that she's started it, Ana merely shakes her head. Christian eyes her speculatively for a moment, then says, "All right, baby. But there has to be consequences." She trusts him, so merely nods her consent. Giving it some thought, he then says, "If you speak or cry out, you have to fetch my breakfast. I'll reciprocate if you manage to come without vocalizing. Oh, the exception of course being safewords or if Junior is making you uncomfortable, okay?"

At her nod, Christian says "Right. I'll see you later," and heads for the door. Confident that he wouldn't leave a pregnant woman tied to a bedpost, Ana is smiling when he soon returns to his position between her thighs as he concedes, "Worth a shot." With a wicked grin, he then warns "Brace yourself, Mrs. Grey," before lifting her just off the bed with those incredibly strong hands under her butt, and lowering his head to her.

He's good at so many things. But, at this, he's a master. Still, this morning, he excels himself. Ana doesn't know how long he spends on this most intimate part of her, exquisitely torturing her with his tongue, lips and, very gently, even his teeth. She hovers on the edge of release for what seems like forever, her entire body now trembling and her legs shuddering with each caress of his tongue, each hot breath from his mouth. Finally releasing her poor bottom lip when the pain from unconsciously gnawing on it registers through the fog of lust, and that distinctive copper flavor confirms that her teeth penetrated the fragile flesh, she settles for clenching her jaw to keep quiet.

She can feel the moisture dribbling down her butt and wonders if it's from her, him, or both. It sort of tickles, but the feeling barely registers amongst the overload of sensation she's already experiencing. As if he's heard her thoughts, Christian only now lowers her bottom onto the bed, so that he can run one finger along her butt crack, the ease of the caress proving that the copious wetness is from her alone, and she feels her resolve crumbling. They don't very often have anal sex, but a memory of the last, mind-blowing experience is enough that even his teasing, testing finger almost makes her come, yet still he doesn't permit her release. Permanently poised at the very edge of rapture, the bed creaks as Ana strains against her bonds, desperate to do something…anything, that will bring her relief from this aching, burning need. And, still, his talented tongue is lapping over, under, around and across her swollen clit. Oh, God!

"Fuck!"

Ana only knows that the growled expletive erupted from her lips when Christian starts laughing. Wiping his mouth on the sheet beneath them, he lifts his adoring gaze to hers and smugly asks, "Did you hear something just now, baby?"

She's already lost the bet, so Ana decides to go for it. Her chest heaving, she commands, "Just fucking fuck me, you fucker."

Apparently delighted with this instruction, Christian's smile is wide as he again lifts Ana's butt off the bed, shuffling forward on his knees so that he can enter her as he watches her reaction. After so long on the preparation, Ana's vaginal walls tighten around him even as he slides effortlessly in. Amazed that giving her pleasure means that he's remained erect all this time, she earnestly declares, "Sometimes, I think that I'm the luckiest woman in the world."

His eyes almost closed as he slowly moves within her, gently celebrating their union, Christian smiles serenely and jokes, "Sometimes, I think you are, too."