Christian's POV2

"Christian," my father calls to me, "may I speak to you in my office for a minute, please?"

I follow him down the hall into his office. Once he closes the door, I wait for him to speak but he just looks at me. "What's up, Dad?"

"I wanted to let you know that your mother and I really like Ana."

I smile blankly, confused. "That's a good thing, right?"

"Yes, it's a very good thing."

"Anything else, Dad?"

"Well, we just want you to be happy, son. I think… we think Ana makes you happy. I'd hate for you to squander such a possibility because you're gun shy about commitment."

"Dad…" I can't continue for words deserted me.

"It's just that I hope you manage to overcome your aversion to commitment when it comes to Ana. It seems to both Grace and I that you both do better when you're together than apart. I don't mean to intrude, Christian, but…"

I just look at him and say nothing, refusing to make it easier for him. I would never be disrespectful toward my parents but I'm feeling more than odd having this conversation with my father. He has never ventured to discuss my personal life with me, not in this vein. Why start now?

"Christian, we hated seeing how miserable you were when you and Ana split the last time. Ana told us that every time you and she grow close, you tend to pull back. I know that's because of Cat… Catherine… Renee, whatever she called herself and I want you to overcome the damage she did to you as a young child."

"Did you ever stop to think that it might be my natural reticence that keeps me from getting serious with anyone, Dad? There are a lot of women who are after my money and status more than me personally, you know."

"Ana doesn't seem the type, however."

"No," I agree, "I don't believe she is. Look, I do appreciate your advice. Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all, son. Really glad you're here this evening."

"Me too."

Carrick looks uncomfortable—he isn't the only one. "Just… I want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, advice maybe, or just a sounding board, I'm here for you, Christian. I know you have an important job that demands most of your attention but you need to take out time and energy to feed your spirit too. It's important, you know."

I merely nod in acknowledgment and flee the room as soon as possible.

...

Ana is waiting in the piano room, a glass of wine in hand and sporting an anxious look. I shake off the discomfort that my father's conversation left me with and wink at her to put her at ease. Her face breaks into relief.

"So where's the clown of the family?" I ask.

Plopping down next to Ana, Mia sniffs. "I beg your pardon? I'm no clown, sir."

I tousle her hair. "You are. But I was referring to the other clown, our brother Elliot."

"Not here yet. He called to say he and Kate were stuck in traffic."

"Oh yeah, I know what kind of traffic he's stuck in."

Mia scowls and kicks me in the shin. Hard, too. I manage to laugh through my pain.

Turning my attention to my gangly teen brother who was sitting in the most comfortable chair in the room, playing a game on his phone, I kick his shoe gently. "Zander, how's school?"

He doesn't look up from the phone screen. "Good."

"How are your grades?"

"Good."

"How's your love life?"

"Good." At that he looks up and gives me a lopsided grin. "Thanks for asking."

"Not at all. I knew Mary and her five sisters very well once upon a time."

Zander's face goes scarlet and I laugh.

"Pretty sure you still do," he grumbles.

"Ooh, he scores."

"Christian," Ana chides me. "Leave him alone." She smiles at Zander. "So what are you interested in studying in school, Zander? You know, in college?"

"Uh, I think something in the sciences. Chemical engineering possibly."

"Seriously?" I pipe in. "If that's true I know a great internship I can recommend you for, Zan."

"What sort of company?"

"So suspicious. Don't scowl at me…would I lead you into the jaws of evil corporate America where I dwell? No, Rick Garner works in solar energy, specifically engineering solar fuel cells to be more reliable and economical. His company is breaking new ground in the field. You won't get paid much but you'll get invaluable experience."

"That actually sounds great, Christian," Ana remarks. "A field where you get paid to do something good for both the environment and people. Win-win."

Zander nods, his eyes locked on Ana with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. I'm wondering if I'm not the only one with a crush on her.

"What's a win-win?" Elliot asks as he saunters into the room, hand in hand with Kate Kavanaugh. "Hi, Ana, you're looking good."

"Hi Elliot, Kate," Ana says, perking up. "Christian was just recommending an internship to Zander."

"Oh? What kind?"

"Chemical engineering," I say, crooking my fingers at him. He comes closer as Kate finds her way to Ana on the sofa. When I'm confident they're occupied with each other, I say to Elliot in a low voice, "I saw Patrice Young today."

He rears his head back, blue eyes startled. "How's that?"

"She showed up in place of Mark Engel, the lead attorney on my patent-infringement suit."

"Did she mention me at all?"

I smirk. "Just said to be sure to say hello to you. So… hello from Patrice. How'd you leave it with her anyway?"

Elliot shakes his head, his eyes glued to Kate. "Not great."

"Oh, that's too bad because I invited her tonight."

"You did what?"

Keeping a straight face, I say, "Yeah, she looked lonely. I asked her if she could use a home-cooked meal and her eyes lit up. When I told her you'd be there with your new GF… well, that was the icing on the cake for her. Said she couldn't wait to meet Kate…"

Elliot's eyes narrow. "You'd better be kidding, Christian."

I can't hold my laughter back at this point because his face was so flushed I thought he might have a heart attack—or possibly try to kill me. I put up my hands in self-defense. "I am. You know that I'm the only one who has ex-girlfriends routinely show up at Mom and Dad's when my new girlfriend is here."

"Your new girlfriend, eh? How about your only girlfriend? I've never seen you with the same woman twice. One date doesn't qualify as a girlfriend."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Some of us are discriminating."

My mother sails in at that moment to announce dinner. Maybe we'd actually get through one evening at my parents' house without a drama unfolding.

...

After dinner I pull Mia aside to talk to her about Fiona but before I've said a word I have second thoughts as to the wisdom of such a conversation. I decide to leave it to Taylor and keep the whole thing as confidential as possible. Mia doesn't know about my unusual appetites nor does any other family member and I am determined to keep it that way. Instead, I ask Mia for advice on a birthday gift for Ana.

"Oh, when's her birthday?"

"Next month but I'd like to get a leg up on it. Any ideas?"

"You want something tres romantic. Give me 24 hours to think on it."

I squeeze her shoulder and call her by my old nickname for her. "Thanks, Miamori. I appreciate it."

She smiles. "You look happy. Ana is good for you, I think."

"Apparently that's the consensus of the whole family. Dad waylaid me at the door to tell me to treat Ana well because he and Mom like her."

"Why's that smirk on your face, Christian? What are you up to?" Ana walks into the room and makes her way to my side.

"Nothing at all. I'm offended that you'd think I was up to no good."

"Hmm. Mia, is he? Up to no good?"

Mia grins. "Not this time, Ana. Still, I wouldn't take my eyes off him," she warns as she sashays out of the room.

"I never do," Ana quips, returning the grin.

"Come here, you," I grasp Ana around her tiny waist. "How about you and I go up to my old bedroom and indulge in some nooky?"

She giggles. "Nooky?"

I hike up my brow. "Yes, nooky. It's my boyhood bedroom so we can't have hot, dirty, kinky sex in there. It has to be nooky. What do you say?"

She thrusts her chin up, looking adorable—as she always does, my Ana. "Lead the way."

We're halfway up the rear staircase when Elliot spots us. "And where might you two be going?" He flashes us a knowing grin.

"Just taking Ana on a house tour," I reply innocently, fooling no one. "We'll be right down."

"I'm sure you will be. After all, it's you, Christian. Now if it were me, we wouldn't be down for a good long while."

"Ooh, good one," I snap sarcastically. Elliot's such an asshole.

"All kidding aside, Mom says dessert will be served shortly. She said to gather everyone."

I look at Ana. "I suppose our tour has to wait for another time."

"I'll wait with bated breath till then," she answers, smiling.

Kissing her silky-soft hand, I led her back downstairs and into the dining room.

...

Tonight's the night I'm taking Ana into my dungeon for the second time and I'm no less ambivalent about it than I was for the first visit. She's been encouraging me—pushing me—to take her down this path and all my instincts as a dominant tell me she's very excited by the prospect of participation… still, I'm not comfortable with it. Ana was a virgin when I met her and though she's no longer innocent of sex, I still think it's a big leap from vanilla sex to kink. Too big for her to scale right away.

Then there's my guilt.

God knows I have more than enough personal issues without piling guilt onto the heap of my troubles—phobias, insecurities, and control issues have ruled my life to varying degrees, but I've never had to wrestle with guilt and I don't want to start now. Guilt is the most debilitating of all, so I've heard, and I don't need it, don't want it.

Strange that I didn't feel anything but sated and happy after we concluded our last visit to the dungeon. Usually after any scene, there's some residue of doubt even if insignificant—did I push too hard, hit too hard, not give it all I've got, disappoint the submissive in any way?

But not with Ana. It was intense being in there with a woman like her, knowing everything was brand (spanking) new, knowing she'd be more likely to safeword than would a trained submissive. The atmosphere was highly charged with anticipation, sexual tension… and arousal—hers and mine. It might very well have been the most satisfying experience I'd ever had, despite having major limitations on what I could or couldn't do. When we walked out of the room, I had no regrets, none at all… and I don't believe she did either. Judging from her expression and her relaxed body, she was content with how things had gone, if concerned about her backside.

Tonight, I'd left her at the bedroom door, bidding her to remember my instructions. "I'll see you in the dungeon in fifteen minutes. Be there waiting in position."

I'd gone into the dressing quarters where the laundry was located and pulled out my frayed jeans from the dryer. I slipped my wide sueded black belt through the belt loops of the jeans. Wearing nothing else, I head downstairs toward the dungeon. Checking the wall clock, I note that Ana has now had seventeen minutes to ready herself. She should be awaiting me in position and properly unclothed

As soon as I step into the room I feel the cool temperature and smell the crisp scent of leather and citrus. For a moment I am transported back to the moment I stumbled upon Irina's dungeon… when I was a teenager searching for control over my life—and a quick lay. I was always on the lookout for a quick lay.

The olfactory sense is closely associated with memory. I can still recall how the room smelled that night all those years ago. There was this alchemy of expensive colognes and perfumes swirling and mixing with the sandalwood incense that Irina favors. Adding to the heady mix was the overlaying scent of conditioned leather and lemon floor wax.

Not even an hour later there would be other lingering smells entering the mix—that of sweat and sex and sometimes even fear. Fear had its own strange musky smell.

My dungeon is cool and dark, redolent of saddle soap and citrus wood polish. Though the room feels empty, I can sense her presence and my heartbeat begins to accelerate. I start to wish I could hear her heartbeat and wonder if there is some electronic equipment that could pick it up and amplify it. What perfect music that would make for a scene.

I step over to the corner where I'd told her to wait. There she is, kneeling in position, her head bowed and her eyes cast down. Ana is lithe and graceful in anything she does. I walk in front of her so she could see my legs and feet and as I watch her intently, a shiver races through her naked body. My cock takes immediate notice. "Very nice, Ana," I murmur, keeping my voice low and authoritative. "Good position. Now give me your hand, please," I say, holding out my own. She quickly places her slender hand in mine and I pull her to her feet.

I lead her to the St. Andrew's cross and put the leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles, then restrain her to the cross. "What's your safeword, Ana?"

"Mark Twain," she answers, her eyes twinkling.

"When we're in this room, you are not permitted to look at me, Ana. That's a punishable offense."

"Sorry," she quickly says and looks at the floor. "Sir, sir, sir," she issues rapid-fire just as my hand is rising up to remind her.

"Mark Twain it is. If you need me to slow down and evaluate but not necessarily stop, use yellow. Okay?"

"Yes, sir."

I smile. Ana is a fast learner and I don't think she likes getting her ass spanked. Really too bad because I like spanking it.

I go to the cabinet where I keep the small floggers and when I return to Ana I catch her looking at me again. She quickly averts her eyes but I decide since she seems to be having a problem keeping her eyes down, I'd make it easier for her. I can't swat her ass for the offense since she is tied to the cross at her back so I smack her thigh and she squeals rather than screams. Progress.

Then I blindfold her and I hear her little gasp—a gratifying sound to a dominant. Blindfolds have both their benefits and drawbacks. The main benefit, of course, is to intensify the other senses by taking away sight. The main drawback is the elimination of arguably the most important sense in a new and exciting experience.

Now I have to decide: how far do I really want to go? How deep should I actually take her into this experience? Last time I toed a strict line but she builds it up in her mind, making everything seem more overwhelming. Should I make it lighter? Or take her to the next level?

Fuck. Here we are in the dungeon and I'm still not certain.

I put my lips close to her ear and as soon as she feels my breath on her skin a shudder runs through her. "How do you feel, Ana?"

"I feel fine," she answers and then quickly tacks on, "Sir."

"I don't usually offer subs a choice but since you're so new, I'll allow you to have input. Would you like me to refrain from impact play? Last time it upset you a smidgen."

"No. I want you to treat me as you would any sub with my limited experience."

"Well," I whisper, letting my lips linger just far away enough to avoid touching her skin. I know she could feel me—my warm breath, my body heat—and it is affecting her body. "Normally I'd take it up a notch—not too drastic but maybe a whip instead of a belt. Nothing too drastic."

"Okay."

I wait for her to correct herself but this time she forgets. I slap the tender skin of the inside of her thigh and she screams. "What did—oh. Okay, sir. Sorry." She says the last word in a half-whine, half-growl, which I think amusing. Apparently I am not the only one in the room who is conflicted.

I leave her hanging there blindfolded while I put on some mood music—an instrumental heavy on the strings—and find the right whip. I'd barely touch her with it but with the way her mind conflated the slightest touch with pain, it's all I'd need to do to achieve the effect I wanted.

Being in the dungeon with the right music, the right mindset, and the right sensations is as intoxicating as any wine or drug. That is my aim tonight with Ana: to induce her into a trance-like state, to allow her to fully inhabit the experience, and to give her a few fantastic orgasms. After all, that's why I do this kind of thing—to elevate a sexual experience into something sensual and phenomenal.

That night she ran into the leathersex room at Irina's to escape her would-be rapist, I remember exactly how I felt, the flood of emotion that hit me like a wave. First, horrified that such an innocent had stumbled upon such debauchery. Then ashamed that I was there, participating on some level even though the whip wasn't in my hand… but her friend was naked upon the cross and I was standing in front of her. The last thing I felt, though, before anger at her attacker overtook me, was this electrifying frisson, a charge of sexual adrenaline like I have never known that such a woman was in there with me and what heights I could take her if only she'd let me.

Yeah, I've been fucking conflicted right from the get-go. Tonight I'm going to try to shed those feelings and be in the moment with my girl, take her to places where I've been that will give her thrills, and then I'll take her home again.

Time to begin.