Sorry for for the delay! More stories soon! And your reviews are the best! Thank you for reading! More to come... xo Ash
"I can't see where we're going," Ana says, blindfolded in a red satin sash that matches her dress, as I direct our way into the elevator that leads to the rooftop at Escala. Though she's wrapped up in a Burberry coat, it's just open enough to give me a peek of her cleavage. And if it's glorious normally, tonight it's halle-fucking-lujah I've left my body and I'm singing praises with the chorus on high magnificent. Though I'm tempted to make a stop at the apartment for some playtime that would make the walls of the red room blush, I have much bigger plans for this evening that heavily involve Ana's heavenly honeydews.
"Good. It's a surprise," I say, pressing the button to take us up as I look down and see she's biting into that delicious lip of hers. And like Pavlov's dog, I've got a bone. "Mrs. Grey, are you trying to seduce me?"
"Are you seduced?" she asks, with a playful smirk.
I take a piece of her hair in my fingers and play with it as I lean in to whisper in her ear. "Just because we're in an elevator doesn't mean I'll automatically lose all self control and ravage you here." I nip at her lobe.
"Why not?" She giggles, twisting her crimson pout. "It's tradition."
"Behave, Anastasia." I give her a little smack on her behind and she squeals and giggles again like she's a bottle of champagne bubbles bursting forth with the pop. I have a feeling I'll have the same problem if we don't get out of this elevator soon. Only, it won't be giggle bubbles popping off.
The elevator dings as we reach the top of the building and the doors open. A gust of wind blows as I lead her out onto the roof.
"I thought tonight we could go on a little trip," I say, removing her blindfold to reveal the helicopter waiting on standby ahead.
"We're going on Charlie Tango?" she asks, her hair billowing in the wind and soft curls framing her face as she claps her hands together and more of her bubbles spill forth. And of course I drink it all in and become intoxicated on her happiness. What can I say?—I'm an Anaholic.
"Are you excited?" I ask, and she nods as I wrap my arms around her from behind and pull her close, nuzzling her chestnut locks and inhaling a scent of fall that is pure and sweet and is only Ana. I think my first inclination that it was love was when I started to illicitly fantasize about smelling her hair.
"But, you've done this many times with me," I say.
"Somehow, it always feels like the first." She leans her head back into my shoulder. And though we're on a rooftop at night in winter, I feel nothing but warmth with her.
It does remind me of that first night I took her up in the sky. Though, I showed her what it was like to fly above the city, she showed me what it felt to be on top of the world.
"Only firsts with you," I say. I can feel her smile against my neck. "Now, you'll catch cold out here and we need to get a move on." I reluctantly release her, but take her hand quickly, so I don't have to stop touching her for long.
"I still love that you can do this, you know," she says as I walk her to her door of the helicopter and I smile. To think for so long I only ever flew alone.
"Now, be careful. There's three of you," I say as I open her door and take the utmost care to get her secured inside.
"You still love strapping me into things," she says, laughing, as I adjust her harnesses and belt to support the weight of the additional precious cargo she's carrying.
"That'll never change, baby." I wink, then lean in to give her a kiss. "And maybe if you're lucky, I'll strap you in more, later."
She smiles as I pull on her buckle and check that she's secure. I run my fingers in between the part in her coat and allow my forefinger to brush deliciously slow down the swell of her belly and then along her thigh. The evidence that she likes this is clear from her audible gasp and her left nipple that's hardening against the satin and just peeking out from beneath the wool of her coat. The evidence I like it is fighting for real estate in my pants. And trust me, it's New York City down there.
"Where are we going?" she asks, putting on her cans as I secure myself into the pilot's seat and put on my own.
"Impatient girl." I look over and smile, then shoot off my commands to Sea-Tac and within minutes we're airborne.
She's staring out the window, captivated by the city, as I take us up. I'm captivated by the size of her breasts and wondering how much milk they could possibly produce. Is it a lot more with twins? Or is more produced just because multiple mouths are sucking on them? And what if the breasts don't get womb to nipple notification that there's two? What if the body just thinks it's a fat kid and eventually cuts off service at the bar to stop diabetes? Will there be enough milk for my children? And will there be enough leftover for me? Oh god, there has to be enough for me, too. I haven't tasted that sweet nectar in years. I'm like a connoisseur anticipating a bottle of the finest one hundred year old Bordeaux to be opened and poured. Although, they look big enough to feed a town now and she's not even five months, so I think I'm safe. But, I better put that on my list of questions to ask Dr. Greene.
"What were you thinking?" she asks. Shit. Can she really read my kink fucked mind?
"When?" I ask, not sure I want to have the milk distribution discussion right now. She always gets pissed at me when I talk to Dr. Greene about sex stuff. But, her whole business is sex based. If no one had sex, she'd lose more than half her practice. Hell, if we didn't have sex she'd be out of a tax bracket. And I'm sure I'm not the only Dad who likes to latch on.
"That first night up here," she says.
Good, I'm safe. We'll save a visit from the milk man for another day. Hey, that's a good role play!
"Well, I certainly had trouble concentrating..." I say as downtown Seattle shines down below. "I was so nervous."
"You were nervous?"
"Uh, yeah." I have to laugh.
"You didn't seem nervous."
"It was the suit; it was made of bionic sweat wicking material." She laughs. "I tell you, it was that night I had full realization I had lost all control of my pores."
"Why were you so nervous?"
"Ana, I was showing you my helicopter."
"In more ways than one."
"Well, that was a high point of the evening, yes," I smirk. "But that aside, I was going to show you—a girl I was head-over-heels for— my playroom and ask you to be my submissive." I can't even say that word and Ana in the same sentence anymore without wanting to kick myself in the head—both of them.
"You were head-over-heels for me then?" she asks, softly, and I think she's touched.
I reach over, lift her hand and bring it to my lips.
"I was head-over-heels for you the moment you were head-over-heels on my floor." I kiss her knuckles and place them back in her lap, keeping hold of her hand for a moment longer. "I didn't even know you were a virgin yet and I was afraid as soon as you knew everything you'd run for the hills and I'd have to take you right back to that tool shop—"
"Clayton's," she laughs.
"Yeah, with the big tool himself—that fucker Paul. Whatever happened to him, anyway?"
"I don't know. I don't think he ever got married."
"Of course not. He's still waiting for you."
"He's not waiting for me!"
"Of course he is—they all are."
"Well, he or anyone else would have to wait forever." She wraps her fingers around my hand and squeezes it as she lovingly kisses my cheek, leaving me surprised I've not turned into a puddle of mush at her feet on the floor. Oh wait, I was wrong, there I am.
"That's not that much to ask to get you in the end," I say and she smiles, her skin glowing in the moonlight and the skyline reflecting in her eyes, just as it did that first night of many firsts.
"I love you so much, " I say, because I just have to say it.
"I love you so much, too."
As we soar above the Space Needle, I remember that night I told her we'd have dinner there when I feared all was lost. And we did—on our first date after our son was born.
"You know what I was thinking that first time up here?" she asks.
"That you hoped I wasn't a serial killer?"
"No." She shakes her head and smiling seductively reaches over and slowly runs her forefinger up and down my leg. My cock jumps. Damn, that feels nice. "What you looked like naked."
She traces the outline of my hardening shaft and I nearly lose all control of my controls. Both in the sky and down below. Fuck me now, why don't you?—Please!
"That's what you were thinking?" I ask, my voice actually squeaking like I'm back in puberty.
She nods and I swallow, wishing she was doing the same right about now.
"I wanted you," she says, lifting her fingers from my promised land and holds to my bicep as she leans her head on my shoulder.
"The feeling was most certainly mutual," I say and I kiss her head. Damn, is she driving me crazy tonight. I need to come in for a landing so I can come in for a landing.
"You know, talking to others, nobody's ever had a nipple orgasm before," she says.
"Well, we aim to please." I smile. But, then I get to thinking... "Wait, who have you been talking to about sex?" If she says the photographer I'll kill him, if only to remove the mental picture he took and stored in his self service hard drive.
"Well, Kate," she says. That doesn't surprise me. Elliot would never take the time to learn the art of nipple stimulation because there are no picture books on the subject and the rest of Kate's conquests were assembly line style. "And Mia..."
"Mia?" I ask, suddenly unnerved. "How the hell would Mia know anything about any of that?"
Ana stares at me like the brain just fell out of the second head I grew.
"Christian, she's my age."
"And?" I don't see her point.
"She dated Ethan for almost two years."
"So?"
"They lived together for three months in Paris."
"He had his own room."
She's twisting her mouth, obviously trying to hold back a laugh. Why is this funny? This is fact.
"Christian," she says, like she would talk to one of the children when they try to tell her candy has more nutritional value than broccoli. "They had sex."
"Who says?"
"Mia."
"Oh right, so you just automatically believe her and not your own husband?"
She laughs. "Your mother knows this."
"My mother? Please tell me you weren't talking about nipple orgasms with my mother."
"Don't worry. It was a different conversation."
"You've had more than one?!"
Ana laughs again, only bigger and more solidifying of my idiocy on the matter. Shit, this is really upsetting to me and she thinks it's hilarious. And since when is my mother having all these sexual conversations?
"Phoebe's boyfriends are never going to survive you," Ana says, shaking her head.
"Damn right! My motto is kill first, ask questions never."
She's still laughing! What's with all this laughter? This is reality. Nobody laughs when you tell them the earth is round or the sun is hot or fathers holding shotguns when their daughter's dates arrive prevents teenage pregnancy because the fucker is dead.
"Phoebe's never dating anyway," I say. "But please stop talking about it and spoiling my good mood. I still haven't gotten over all those cards." It's bad enough to think of my sister having any kind of sexuality. Phoebe is off limits. Never. Going. To. Happen.
Ever.
"Okay, sorry," she says and kisses me on the side of the mouth. I cut my eyes to her, then point to the other side and she kisses me there, too.
"We're not headed to Portland?" Ana asks, looking down as Seattle escapes us and the water lies ahead.
"What?—you think all I can come up with for a romantic getaway is the Heathman? I thought we could go to an island off the coast."
"An island. That sounds romantic."
"I hope so. Because, that's your first gift."
"Oh, I love an island overnight!"
"No. The island."
"The island?" she asks. "You mean like we'll have it all to ourselves for our getaway?"
She's not getting it.
"No, like the whole thing is yours for the rest of your life."
She sits up and looks at me. "You're not saying you are actually giving me an island?"
I nod. "Named after you as well. It'll be on Google maps next week. It's like Hawaii, but with only two inhabitants and no pineapples."
"How can you buy a whole island?" she asks, looking at me like I'm a pineapple of gigantic proportions. Well, I guess if you're a pineapple, you might as well be the biggest on your own personal Hawaii.
"Easy. I bought all the land. It's yours. I mean, we don't have our own government or anything, but we can make all our own rules..." I raise a brow. I can think of one—no shirts, no shoes, lots of service.
"Just like that?" she asks.
I nod and snap my fingers to punctuate the point that I'm master of the universe to all and a slave of love to one.
"You're insane!" she laughs.
"This is true. But, I'm also practical."
"Practical? What's practical about purchasing an island?"
"Think about it. We're going to have four children soon. And as much as we both love them, we're going to need an escape from the chaos every now and again. And what better place to make uninterrupted, mad, passionate love than our own private island that's only a hop, skip and a Charlie Tango ride away from home?"
She stares at me for a moment. It's less pineapple and more should I call Flynn.
"You know that only makes sense in your mind."
"Ana, I told you at Versailles on our honeymoon that I would build a palace just to see the way the light hit your hair." I look over to her and brush her tumbling locks away from her moonlit face. "That goes for moonlight, too."
"Oh Christian," she says. "It's incredible. But, it's so much. People only dream of things like this."
It's true; people do. But, you're not people, you're mine."
She puts her hand to my cheek and leans in to give me a kiss that makes me swoon. Only Ana can sweep me off my feet when I'm already sky high.
"We can design it however you like," I say as we near our destination.
"It's an island, not a new kitchen!"
"There's a nice estate." Nice estate? It's like three times that of our home and we could fit few Disney theme parks on the land. "You'll need to figure out what you want. We can consult a new architect to do all that and Elliot can do the remodeling."
"New architect? Not Gia?"
"No. I don't want to deal with her again." The island is getting close; I can see it. "And no men, either. Unless they're either gay or ninety."
"What about gay and ninety?"
"My prayers will be answered! Though, I'm not sure he could see what he was planning at that age."
"Christian, you are crazy," she laughs. "But, you're my crazy." She kisses me again. "Thank you."
"Oh, Mrs. Grey, it's only the beginning," I say as we descend into a paradise that could only be named Anastasia.
#######
"You said this was a nice estate— it's a palace!" Ana says as we enter the lavish abode that is now our getaway shag shack beyond the blue. The entire place is covered in marble and wrought iron and the eggshell papered walls are edged in ornately carved wood painted in gold. With all the sculptures and statues and crystal chandeliers, I half expect Versailles to call and demand we give its opulence back.
I can see the water from the floor-to-ceiling windows. I can't wait until tomorrow; it's supposed to be an unseasonably nice day, so I'm going to fuck her all over the beach. I hope to find sand in my ass—and hers—for days to come. Maybe we can make a game of it. I can't wait for summer; I don't think we'll ever wear clothes.
"What, this old thing?," I tease, pulling her into my arms and bringing her mouth to mine. "Come..." I murmur against her lips.
"Well, you just cut right to the chase, don't you, Mr. Grey?" She smirks and raises a brow.
"Cute. But, I want show you something."
"That's usually how these things start out." She giggles.
"Mrs. Grey," I put a finger to her lips and twist my mouth to try and fight my grin, but the grin has the knockout strength of an '86 Tyson. "Enough of that smart mouth. I have another surprise for you."
"Another one?" she asks, appropriately surprised, as I take her hand and lead us into the great room (whoever the fuck lived here gilded everything), through a set of double doors (gilded!); that eventually take us outside and onto a candlelit stone path that leads to a house in the meadow that's made almost entirely of glass.
I open the doors and usher her inside to a fairytale world painted with twinkle lights, countless flowers and a sweetheart table, in the middle of it all, romantically set for two.
"Oh Christian, this is stunning," she says, as her eyes dance around the gazebo above us. "This is just like that rose garden in London we loved on our honeymoon."
"Almost to the letter, except for the flowers..." I motion to the roses growing in abundance around us and pick one in particular off of a bush and hand it to her.
"My roses!" she says, in sudden recognition of the bloom I created in her name on our wedding day, as her hand cups the flower and the other hand's fingers trace the petal edges.
"Yes, and the hybrids I had created for Teddy and Phoebe on the days they were born," I point to the other rose bushes. "I thought it would be special to have a place we could come to where our love grows—literally."
"Oh, Christian. This is everything," she says, her eyes misting as she looks out onto the flowers.
"No, it's more," I say and move my fingers to brush away the teardrop on her cheek.
I move to the sweetheart table and lift a vase from the center that contains two single white roses. "When we know the sex of the babies, we'll create a hybrid that's unique for each of them and plant them in the garden with the others. But, I figured I'd give you these two, since that's what I gave you the first time I gave you flowers."
"Christian..." She holds her hand to her mouth, as she starts to weep. "The way you love me and our family is... It takes my breath away."
"Trust me, Ana, all of this is nothing compared to what you give to me." I touch her belly, then her face and brush away another teardrop that's fallen onto her cheek with my thumb.
"Now, no more tears," I say as I lift a remote control off the table and turn on some Sinatra we got quite frisky to one rainy afternoon at my office.
"I remember this, quite deliciously well," she says, smiling with a raised brow. Naughty, sweet, everything Ana.
"Well, there will be time for all that shortly," I say. But first, I'd like to have dinner with my wife in our garden.
I lead her to the sweetheart table and pull out her chair, stopping for a moment to kiss the top of her head before I push her in.
"I'm famished!" she says.
"Now, you're really trying to turn me on," I say as I move to my seat.
"Voila, I say, lifting our silver tray tops to reveal our dinner of bone-in rib eye and asparagus tips and a special side dish of macaroni and cheese.
"This is the perfect meal," she laughs.
"Well, I would've gotten oysters if you weren't pregnant, but I figured you could entertain me with the asparagus."
"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Grey?" She lifts one with her fingers and sucks the tip. My tip is standing at attention, hoping to get in line.
The dinner is phenomenal. The Mile High Club outdid itself, though the vegetarian lunch with Phoebe and the barnyard lovers was superb as well. We eat and talk and laugh. I once told her I didn't date or give flowers. And to think I risked missing out on this night, at this table, and the smell of these roses.
"Now, I'm stuffed," she says, pressing her napkin to the sides of her mouth to clean up and I'm pleased to see she's finished her plate. Talk about foreplay.
"I'm glad it was to your liking." I take her hand and play with her fingers, bringing each tip to my mouth and sucking them clean.
"Here, before we begin our evening, I have something for you," she says, once I'm done with her fingertips.
"Ana, you didn't have to get anything for me. You and the children made me those lovely cards and all those pink and chocolate frosted cupcakes." The pink ones with sprinkles and jellybeans were from Phoebe and the chocolate with smushed Oreos were from Teddy, because he said it looked like his favorite thing—dirt.
"Of course I did," she says as she finds her purse, pulls out a small envelope and hands it to me.
I open it and there's a card with a water color painting on the front of me, Teddy and Phoebe all sleeping in a wicker chair on the porch that faces the ocean, my arms wrapped tightly around them as they curl to my chest.
"Ana—" I breath, barely able to catch it again.
"Open the card," she says.
I open it and there's a quote written in practiced calligraphy in the center:
"All, everything that I understand, I only understand because I love."
— Leo Tolstoy
And I only understand it because of you.
I love you for our more,
Ana xo
I'm speechless for a long moment, just staring at the words and flipping back to see the watercolor again.
"Where did you get this beautiful picture?" I ask, my voice cracking with emotion.
"I took it last summer. I thought it was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen and I wanted to give it to you, but not just as a snapshot. So, I had an artist paint a watercolor of the photo."
"Oh Ana, I love it. I'll frame this card and put it up in my office right away."
"That would be lovely, but this is my next surprise—a full-sized real painting is waiting for you at Escala."
"What? Why Escala?"
"You told me you wanted to get rid of the Madonna and child paintings and put up pictures of our family..."
"Yes, but I want to put up pictures of you and our children. You're their mother. You're the important one."
She closes her eyes and a tear escapes.
"Oh Christian, you don't see enough how important you are to them. To all of us." She touches her belly. "I wanted to give you this so you could be reminded of that every time you look at it. "
"Oh Ana." I stand, move to her and pull her up into my arms. "I never knew I could be a good father."
"I know," she brushes the side of my head. "But I always did."
And I tilt her chin and bring her lips to mine, pouring everything I'm feeling into our kiss. I need to show her what I feel for her; how I need her; how I love her.
"Let's go upstairs," I say, breathless against her mouth.
"No dessert?"
"Oh no, you're dessert tonight, Mrs. Grey." I kiss her again, then take her hand and guide her as we climb our marble staircase together to the master suite.
"Open this," I say as we stand at the foot of the red rose petal covered four poster king-sized bed.
"You've already given me an island and a palace and a rose garden..."
"Well, this is as much for me as it is for you." I smile.
Ever curious, she raises a brow.
"Have you been to your favorite toy store?
"Two of them."
I hand her a wrapped package that's set on an end table and she opens it to find a red box she's more than familiar with. She lifts the lid and out of the tissue she pulls out my creation—a bra and panties covered in diamonds and rubies and clusters of white pearls. Covered is strong word. I had this set designed in a joint collaboration with two of my favorite toy stores—La Perla and Cartier—to cover as little as possible.
"Oh Christian, this necklace is stunning!" she says, holding the diamond thong end of the bejeweled panties up. "Wait, there's two necklaces!" She holds up the bra. "Do I wear both at once?"
I can't help but laugh and she frowns at my response, definitely not realizing where my laughter is coming from.
"Yes, I want you to wear them now. But, they're not necklaces," I say as I take the bra from her hand, hook the straps around my fingers, then hold it up the proper way against her chest. "They're your wardrobe for this evening."
She's silent, staring at it for a long moment. Too long. I'm not sure if I should pull it away from her chest or not, so I stand there, awkwardly remaining awkward. How did this suddenly become so, for lack of a better word, awkward?
"I'm supposed to wear this?" she asks softly, taking it from my hands and holding it up in examination. She looks as if I told her I wanted to stick a rocket up her ass and fire it off. Of course I do, but only metaphorically speaking.
"Yes." I stroke the thong-back diamonds, lifting it from the box she's still holding. "These go in the back."
"This goes there?" she squeaks. Why is she so shy all of a sudden? In the old days I could understand, but she was spread eagle to kingdom come—or rather, queendom come loudly— last night and begging for the vibrating butt plug on level five. And it only goes to level four!
"Yes," I whisper in her ear. "And I can't wait to see it there..." I reach around her and run my finger up and down the crease of her ass through the satin of the dress. "And, I can't wait to lick every jewel before I take everything off and tongue you bare."
What I expect is for her to giggle and blush as I tip her chin back for a earth shattering kiss and slowly undress her, so she can get into the little ensemble and I can undress her again. But, what I get is something entirely different. She stands there, looks down and then away, folding her hands across her body, almost as if to hide it from me.
"Ana," I say, alarmed at the way she's closing me off. "What's wrong?" Is she upset I spent so much money on her? But, she's my wife. She knows I like to shower her with gifts. She hasn't made a deal of this since that first car debacle.
She steps away from me and to the floor-to-ceiling picture window that looks out over the moonlit water.
"I can't wear this," she says, after a far too long silence and my world stands still at the prospect she doesn't want me.
"Why not?" I whisper, then move toward her and place my hands on her shoulders. "You don't like it?"
"It's beautiful, and romantic, and would be perfect, but..." She sighs, then turns back to face me. "Christian, if you haven't noticed, I'm nearly five months pregnant with twins."
"So?"
"So?" She looks exasperated with me. "I'm huge."
"So?" I ask again, but with more kick on the question mark this time. Why is she saying this? Doesn't she realize how fucking hot that makes me? God, the feeling of her ass in my hands when she rode my face last night was mind blowing. It's like having your cakes and eating one, too.
"But, I can't fit into something this exposing and tight? I'll feel too fat for you."
"Too fat for me? I've been trying to get you fat for years!"
She rolls her eyes and I hope I can use it for ammunition later. But, it's not looking good.
"Ana, listen to me. You're sexy as all get out!"
She looks at me a long moment, then puts her hands on my waist and dips her head and rests her forehead against my shoulder.
"Oh Christian, that's sweet of you to say, but—"
Is she crying? I think those were sniffles.
I lift her chin with my fingers and see the tears that have pooled in her eyes.
"I just saw you naked this morning. We fucked twice in the shower. You weren't like this, then."
"Yes, but naked at home is different than this." She holds up the jewels. "I'm not fit to be like a showgirl."
"Trust me, no showgirl has Cartier underwear!"
I hold her head with both hands and bring her eyes to mine. "Ana, what is this about? We're well before your due date. We had sex all the time when you were nine months pregnant with Phoebe and Teddy. Heck, I broke your water with Teddy!"
She snorts a laugh. At least it lightened the mood. But, why does everyone think that's such a joke? We fucked, she flooded, we had a kid.
"I'm twice as big, twice as fast with the twins," she says. "Instead of five months, I'm practically ten!"
"I know, it's so fucking hot. My fantasies can't keep up." She laughs. "Ana, it's true. I wasn't going to make a deal of it, but I talked to Flynn about all this. How I've been feeling since you've been getting so big, so fast... And, I've been formally diagnosed with a pregnancy kink."
"What?"
"It's true. But, only for you. You don't have to worry about me looking at other pregnant women with sexual thoughts."
"I'm glad for that." At least she's smiling now.
"I can't stop thinking about your round body." I lean in and rest my forehead to hers; my hands holding to her hips. "Do you know how sexy I find it when you're pregnant with my babies. I think it's something from my formative years, seeing you caring for my children that are growing inside of you... It makes me painfully hot for you."
"Painfully?"
"Ana, feel what you do to me." I take her hand and brush it across my hardening erection. "You drive me mad." I touch her cleavage. "Ana, please, don't deny me the pleasure of looking at your body." I run my fingertips down her chest, to her breasts and to her hardening peaks. "I want to see and feel and taste every inch of you..."
I lean into her neck and kiss her and to my delight she relaxes and tilts her head to the side, giving me more access. I then move my lips down onto her shoulder; tasting each inch with my tongue as I slide my thumbs under the thin straps of her dress and pull them off her shoulders. Her breasts heave forth out of the fabric and I move my lips across their ample swell.
"This is mine," I say, sliding my hands down her satin wrapped body.
"Yes, yours," she says, quivering as my fingers just brush her sex.
"Let me make love to you Ana," I say as I worship her neck. "Let me show you what you do to me."
"Yes," she breathes just before I take her mouth with mine. And all the fear and apprehension she had seem to melt away with our kiss.
I feel her before I see her and then I hear her. The kissing of her high heels on the marble floor reverberates in my body. Each tap of her stilettos turning me on more. I close my eyes for a second and listen, nearly exploding at the sound of her high heels alone.
"You are so stunning," I groan, as I turn and my eyes feast on the bounty of her body. She's dazzling. I don't even see the jewels; all I see is her.
I can see that she's shy, so I stride slowly toward her and when I reach her, I hold both hands to her face and kiss her. The passion coursing through me is begging to explode.
Still kissing her, I pull one hand from her cheek and run the tips of my finger from her chin to her chest and across her breasts, traveling over her belly until just reaching the diamond studded panty edge covering her sex. I trace the outline of the panties with my finger and she moans in my mouth.
I need to see her.
I slowly circle her, with predator intent, wanting to get a good view of every inch of her. It does not disappoint. I stop, facing her back, and draw my fingertip down her spine as I kiss the top of her shoulder. I can see the little hairs on her arms stand on end.
"Breathtaking," I whisper as I move her hair away and bring my lips to her neck and then retrace the path my finger just travelled down her spine with my mouth.
I drop to my knees and cup her behind, then run my tongue along each diamond on the thong at the part of her cheeks. Feeling my tongue explore her ass, she shudders. I think she may come.
But not yet...
"Oh baby, what I'm going to do to you," I say as I stand back up. "I can't wait to tie you up and fuck you properly," I whisper into her ear as I grab a piece of red satin from the bedside table and run it across my opposite hand.
I lead her to the rose petal covered bed, helping her lie on her back and propping her with pillows so I know that she's comfortable. The sight of her perfect jewel adorned body placed on a king's bed of roses is enough for me to explode.
But, I want this slow...
"It's like I'm wrapping my own Valentine's present," I say as I tie her wrists together with the satin piece and then put them over her head.
"Isn't the fun in unwrapping presents?" she asks, squirming and giggling and making me so hard.
"Oh, you have no idea, baby."
Once secured, I place a black velvet mask over her eyes and turn on a piece of music we heard at an opera last spring that she said she wanted to fuck to. Being the true dominant that I am, I frantically searched for it on iTunes so I could fulfill her request.
I gaze down and admire her splayed open to me. Lord, the look of her. Her legs and her breasts and the beautiful swell at her middle that tells the world she is carrying my children that are completely made out of our love. It's hard to believe any of this is really all mine.
I crawl onto the bed, over her, and run my tongue along the the edges of her panties, stopping to suck each precious jewel along the way. She bucks when I stop and circle the special ruby just above her own and I know it's because she can feel my warm, wet tongue just teasing the edges of the stone where the lace is.
"You have no idea how beautiful you are," I say as I hook my fingers in the sides of her panties and pull them up and in a little to give me more access to her lips.
"Mmmm. You make me feel beautiful, " she smiles and so do I.
"You've freshly waxed, Mrs. Grey?" I groan, pulling the panties to the side and running my fingers up and down her soft bare lips.
"Happy Valentine's Day," she smiles and I inhale deeply; my cock is no longer willing to be contained in my pajama pants, so I take them off and throw them onto a chair across the room.
"Well, I think I should investigate this. Make sure I don't have to clean anything up with my razor." She giggles as I hook my fingers into the side bands of her panties and she tilts her hips upward allowing me to slide them off and I discard a quarter of a million worth of jewels in a used laundry pile on the floor.
"This looks very nice," I say, running my tongue up and down her soft mound. "I think you did a good job." I run my tongue down the center of her, paying extra special attention to her swollen bud.
"Oh god, I need to come," she says, pulling against the satin tying her hands.
I hold her hips down as she bucks and I continue my tormenting for awhile, bringing her to the edge and back several times. I want her to come like a dam bursting in my mouth. There's nothing more intimate than when I can feel her warm and quiver and wet against my tongue.
I take two fingers and slide them inside of her, moving them in and out of her, as I continue to flick my tongue against her clitoris.
"Come for me, Ana," I say when she's just on the precipice and she quakes at my command. I cut my eyes up to watch this sight to truly behold.
Once the aftershocks of what looks like an orgasm of epic proportions subside, I kiss my way up her body, brushing her skin with my fingers as I go. The diamond edged triangles that cover her breasts are barely holding on for dear life and I'm excitedly planning their funeral.
"I need you like I need food and drink, Ana." I kiss my way over her chest. "But, you taste better than both." I take the pearled clasp at the center of the bra and pull so it lets loose and her breasts free. I don't waste time; I find each succulent nipple with my mouth and devour them.
"Oh Christian," she cries out as I take one with my teeth and mercilessly pull and twist.
I can't take it any longer.
"I want to be inside of you," I say, brushing my lips against hers and then pouring out my need for her in a kiss.
"Yes," she exhales.
I place myself at her entrance and thrust inside of her.
"You feel so good, Ana," I moan.
She feels like home.
I move in and out of her and in a rush of passion, I change the course of my plan to keep her eyes covered and slide the mask up and off of her and throw it onto the floor.
"I want to see you when we come together," Mrs. Grey. " I move a hand to the satin bow that ties her wrists. "And I want you to touch me."
I untie it and her hands immediately find my hair and my back and my chest as her tongue invades my mouth and I return the favor. And like fireworks we explode as one.
I didn't plan that, it just happened. Like everything with Anastasia nothing ever happens exactly as I planned. And I couldn't be a happier son of a bitch.
#######
"That was delectable," I say, as Ana and I sit propped up in bed sharing a tub of Ben and Jerry's Ana's.
"You like the ice cream?" she asks, dipping her spoon in to take some of the dessert.
"It's my favorite flavor," I smile with vanilla melting on my tongue. "Well, besides you." I bring my cold, sweet lips to hers and she smiles against my mouth as I kiss her. "Actually, I was talking about our lovemaking." I put my spoon into the carton and touch her face. "That was unbelievable." I smile, my eyes softly taking her in. She's in my t-shirt now and she looks just as dazzling as when she was in the bejeweled bra.
"It couldn't have been more special."
"Well, I won't say that..." I say and she frowns. "Because there's always more with you." I kiss her nose and she smiles and I smile and we smile even more.
"Why are you smiling so much?" she asks, smiling as she sets her spoon in the carton and I set the whole thing on the bedside table.
"Because I just got laid by the hottest girl on the planet." I kiss her head and she giggles as I pull her closer and softly stroke her back as she curls against my chest, placing her hand right over my heart. We lay like this for awhile, until I can tell by her breathing that she's fallen asleep. I know this from the many times I've watched her at night and held her and fell asleep myself to the rhythm of her breath.
As she sleeps, I start thinking about firsts. I already loved her that first night, but I didn't know it yet. I also didn't know yet what it felt like to make love to her body in its changing forms, or to have an argument that I didn't have to win (in fact, it rarely happens at all), or to go out for huckleberry pie because she had a craving at three in the morning. I didn't know what it would be like to see her eyes and my smile on the face of our daughter, or my copper tipped locks and her laugh lighting the eyes of our son. Or to wonder what our babies will look like, holding to each other before night kisses dawn, when she can't sleep because the pie gave her indigestion and I brush her hair as she lays her cheek to my chest and I watch as she finally falls asleep, much like now. That first night we made love feels like a million years ago and just yesterday all at once. It's like nothing has changed, but everything.
That's the funny thing about firsts with Anastasia; they have a habit of becoming forevers.