Hi, everyone! So sorry for the delay. My beta has come down with something, so there's been a pause. Please send her well wishes! To all the readers out there who are worried I'm going to stop—please don't worry. I have no intentions of ending this fanfic. I have the next three chapters written out already; there just awaiting beta'ing. I fully intend to write the entirety of Fifty Shades of Grey from Christian's POV. Once I've finished with this book, I'll see if I want to continue with the rest of the series. I imagine I will, but I'm not making any promises.

I think I'm finally getting in the swing of things, and capturing Christian's POV, and so this is really starting to get fun.

Thanks for all your lovely reviews—they inspire me so, and as they are fed to me, they urge me to write faster ;)

Happy reading, and wishing everyone a Happy Easter Weekend!

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Thursday, May 26 2011, Early Morning

"No!" I shout, jolting awake. The room is dark, the curtains drawn. I blink unseeingly into the dark.

My heart is thrumming in my chest too quickly, my breathing too rapid. I lay flat on my back, waiting for both to calm.

When they finally do, I try to make sense of the nightmare I've just woken from. It wasn't the usual dream—something totally different.

Full of blue eyes and words and kisses holding more promise than they should.

I exhale slowly, and then my heart rate spikes again. I'm out of bed in an instant and crossing the suite to my computer. I've fallen asleep without hearing back from Anastasia after my second email, and I can't believe I've allowed this.

Opening my inbox, I run my hand through my hair.

Nothing in response, and I open my sent mail, making sure it's gone through.

It has.

I read it over once more, realizing how desperate I sound…

…

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Tonight

Date: May 25 2011 23:58

To: Anastasia Steele

.

I hope you made it home in that car of yours.

Let me know if you're okay.

.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

.

It hasn't been an hour since I sent the email and fell asleep. There's still no reply, and suddenly I'm insane with concern.

I picture her in all sorts of awful predicaments with that fucking deathtrap of a car.

I pick up my phone and send her a text.

*Are you home safe?*

I wait… and wait… and wait some more. I'm getting tired again.

A half an hour passes, and she hasn't replied.

I have half a mind to send Taylor out to make sure she's arrived home safely.

Finally, I give it up, and go back to sleep.

.

I've woken two more times in the night, and I still haven't heard from Anastasia by the time morning comes.

I check both my email inbox and my Blackberry, but I've received no mail from her on either.

Before I even think about dealing with anything from work, before I need to leave for the graduation ceremony, I call her.

Her phone goes straight to voice mail.

Fuck!

I hang up, knowing that I wouldn't be able to leave a composed voice message if I tried.

*Call me*

I leave it at that, and sit down to drink my coffee.

My stomach is churning, but I force down my omelet anyway.

I answer a few emails and a couple calls, forcing the concern about Anastasia from my mind.

Before I know it, it's time to dress, and I do so meticulously.

You'll see her there, I remind myself as I knot my tie—the tie I've tied Anastasia up in not once, but twice.

Taylor knocks rapidly on my door. I pull it open.

"Ready to go, sir?" he asks.

"Yes," I tell him.

.

Traffic is heavy, and I don't arrive as early as I'd hoped.

When I arrive backstage, I see Miss Kavanagh talking with the other board members.

I touch her on the shoulder, and she turns toward me.

"Christian," she says, surprised.

"Did Anastasia get home safely last night?" I ask, aware I sound a little short. I rake my fingers through my hair.

"Um, yeah—she made it fine. Why do you ask?"

I shake my head at her. The fifty pound weight I hadn't realized I'd been holding on my shoulders lifts. She's safe. She's fine.

Out front, I can hear the auditorium filling. Someone asks me how I'm doing.

"Fine," I mutter.

The coordinator, a little thing all dressed in black, comes over and tells us the ceremony is about to start. We all get into position.

I am the last one on stage.

The lights are bright, and the students are a sea of black and red. I don't scan the faces for Anastasia's. Suddenly I'm nervous—really nervous. Why?

I sit, undoing the button on my jacket as I do so.

If I know Anastasia even a little bit, I know she'll be watching me, and despite the anxiety I'm feeling, I know the glimpse of this oh-so-familiar tie will tease her; and I'm all about teasing… Oh, I'm angry with her. I'd like to spank her ass nice and hard after that stunt she pulled last night. I've been worried sick about her.

The applause the audience has welcomed us with ceases, and everyone sits.

There's a beat of silence, and the proceedings begin.

The chancellor steps up to the podium and begins his speech.

To be honest, the whole affair is very boring—but I'd be even more bored if this weren't Anastasia's graduation.

To distract myself, I think about the Audi that's being delivered today. I know she's going to be surprised, probably a little bit mad, but I'm excited nonetheless. I'll drive it over to her apartment this evening.

I can't help it—now that we've settled into things, I roam the audience, searching for her familiar face. It doesn't take me long. My gaze falls on hers a moment later. She's slightly hunched in her seat, and she's already been staring at me. She looks shy. As my eyes linger on hers, that inevitable slow bush fills her cheeks, and the bridge of her nose. I can barely suppress my smile.

Anastasia makes a cap and gown look good. She looks beautiful.

All at once, I'm reminded of the way she defied me last night. A sudden realization occurs—maybe she's going to say no; maybe this is why she's ignoring me.

I close my eyes briefly to compose myself—I can't think about all of this right now—and glance toward the chancellor, who's nearing the end of his speech.

I fix my gaze across the auditorium, on the WSUV emblem above the entrance, and I don't look at Anastasia again, for the rest of the ceremony. She's just too distracting.

Finally, Keith finishes his speech and welcomes Miss Kavanagh to the podium. The gymnasium erupts into applause as she stands and makes her way across the stage, and I bring my hands together automatically.

She takes a moment, tossing her hair over her shoulders, arranging her papers in front of her.

For a twenty-two year old, she is so confident and sure of herself.

She surges into her speech, no stuttering, no pausing, not even a blush. She cracks just the right amount of jokes, eliciting laughter from the audience every time. Despite the humor, she manages to still hold a tone of sobriety through the entirety of her "What Next After College?" themed speech.

She finishes and is applauded enthusiastically, the entire audience rising to their feet.

Miss Kavanagh takes her seat, as well as the rest of the audience.

Keith rises and approaches the podium again.

"And now I'd like to introduce one of our main humanitarians. At the young age of twenty-seven, he's the CEO of his own extraordinarily successful company, Grey Enterprises Holdings Incorporated. He's made quite a life for himself, is very successful, and also a major benefactor to our university. Please welcome Mr. Christian Grey."

I rise and step up to where Keith stands, shaking his hand. There's a round of polite approbation, and I take my place at the lectern. I scan the hall, making sure to not look over to where Anastasia sits. I'll choke for sure.

"I'm profoundly grateful and touched by the great compliment accorded to me by the authorities of WSU today," I begin, and I'm relieved that my voice sounds as measured as it does. "It offers me a rare opportunity to talk about the impressive work of the environmental science department here at the university. Our aim is to develop viable and ecologically sustainable methods of farming for third world countries; our ultimate goal is to help eradicate hunger and poverty across the globe. Over a billion people, mainly in sub-Saharan Africa, South Asia, and Latin America, live in abject poverty. Agricultural dysfunction is rife within these parts of the world, and the result is ecological and social destruction. I have known what it's like to be profoundly hungry. This is a very personal journey for me, and I hope to make it personal for many of the people working with me on this project. Please, do your part to help someone in need."

I finish my speech, welcoming the round of applause, and smile briefly, politely. I take my seat, and we begin the long, tedious process of awarding the degrees.

It's over an hour of shaking boys' and girls' hands before Anastasia steps onto the stage. My heart flutters nervously at the sight of her. This is a big moment for her, and though I haven't been here through most of it, I'm proud of her.

"Congratulations, Miss Steele," I tell her, taking her hand in mine. I squeeze it gently. Her skin is so soft, and as we touch, a shock goes through me. It surprises me. "Do you have a problem with your laptop?"

She frowns as she takes her degree from me. "No."

"Then you are ignoring my emails?" I ask her, and I brace myself for her 'no'. This is it, it'll all end now…

"I only saw the mergers and acquisitions one," she tells me.

Abruptly, I'm confused. I want to investigate further, but we're holding the line up. We don't have time for this now.

"Later," I tell her.

She goes back to her seat, and I'm left stewing. No answers, nothing. I need to speak with her as soon as this is finished.

Another hour passes before all of the degrees are handed out, and I'm dying of boredom. This is the most awful event I've ever had to sit through, and with everything that's been going with Anastasia, it makes it a whole lot worse.

Finally the proceedings are over, and I follow everyone else backstage.

Their voices are loud, boisterous and excited.

Katherine is speaking with one of the professors—he looks like he just rolled out of bed—but I approach her anyway.

"Miss Kavanagh," I say to her and she turns to me, still smiling at something the professor has just said. Her smile fades when she sees it me.

"Yes, Christian?" Her tone is stiff and formal.

"Please fetch Anastasia for me. I need to speak with her. It's urgent."

"Uh…" she pauses, glancing back at the tired professor, and then back at me again. "Sure…" She sounds suspicious, but she goes anyway.

"Tell us more about the project you're working on with the university, Mr. Grey," one of them suggests.

I turn my attention to them, launching into a short explanation.

Katherine returns, and Anastasia is behind her. She looks radiant and flushed, from the excitement of the day.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," I mutter to my company. I turn away from the men and go to Anastasia. I flash a brief smile at Katherine.

"Thank you," I tell her, and I take Anastasia's elbow. Her skin is warm against mine. I steer her into a nearby room, a locker room by the looks of it, and lock the door behind us.

"Why haven't you emailed me? Or texted me back?" Abruptly, I'm very angry, in a way I hadn't realized the entire course of the graduation ceremony. I'm not sure where it's coming from.

"I haven't looked at my computer today, or my phone. That was a great speech."

"Thank you," I reply shortly.

"Explains your food issues to me."

I rake my fingers through my hair. "Anastasia, I don't want to go there at the moment." I close my eyes, all at once pained, thinking of all of the things that could have gone wrong with Anastasia and her car last night. "I've been worried about you."

"Worried, why?" she asks. She really doesn't get it.

"Because you went home in that deathtrap of a car," I say, way beyond exasperated.

"What? It's not a deathtrap. It's fine. Jose regularly services it for me."

Jose?! Fucking Jose?! Why would she bring that up right now?! That's the last thing I need.

"Jose, the photographer?" I ask her, and I can feel the heat in my tone, but fuck it—I'm angry.

"Yes, the Beetle used to belong to his mother," she tells me, obviously defensive. The emotion sparks in her eyes.

"Yes, and probably her mother and her mother before her. It's not safe." I've never been looking forward to gifting a woman a car more.

"I've been driving it for over three years," she argues, "I'm sorry you were worried. Why didn't you call?"

I take a deep breath. I don't know—maybe because I would have fallen apart at the sound of her voice? Or unable to stay away, it would have just been one more thing to lure me to her.

"Anastasia, I need an answer from you," I demand, "This waiting around is driving me crazy."

"Christian, I…" She pauses, her gaze falling to her hands, which she holds out in front of her. "Look, I've left my stepdad on his own."

"Tomorrow. I want an answer by tomorrow," I command her.

"Okay," she acquiesces, "Tomorrow, I'll tell you then."

I step back and regard her, a tad more relaxed now that I know I'll have an answer by tomorrow. That's only twenty four hours away.

"Are you staying for drinks?" I ask her. She can't leave yet. I haven't seen her for very long at all.

"I don't know what Ray wants to do."

"Your stepfather? I'd like to meet him." Why the hell not?

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," she mumbles after a moment.

"Are you ashamed of me?" I ask her as I unlock the locker room door. I can't say it wouldn't make sense if she was.

"No!" she cries and then continues, "Introduce you to my dad as what? 'This is the man who deflowered me and wants us to start a BDSM relationship'? You're not wearing running shoes."

I glower at her, really trying to keep angry at her, but this woman has a way of bringing out the humor at just the wrong time, and I can't fight the smile that forces its way onto my face. Her answering grin is magnificent.

"Just so you know, I can run quite fast," I joke. "Just tell him I'm your friend, Anastasia."

I hold the door open for her, and she steps out into the corridor ahead of me.

.

When Katherine and I find Anastasia a few minutes later, in the marquee, she's deep in conversation with some boy, who has his arm wrapped around her waist.

Anger hardens my gut into ice.

Katherine greets Anastasia's father, kissing him on the cheek. "Have you met Ana's boyfriend? Christian Grey," she says, and her words stop me cold.

Boyfriend? Oh, no. That's not what I am at all.

I see Anastasia pale at Katherine's words.

I recover before her. I can put on this act. I can do this. Besides, maybe it'll steer the boy—who's absolutely clinging to her—away.

"Mr. Steele, it's a pleasure to meet you." I realize that it is. It's nice to see where Anastasia came from, to meet the man who raised her through her teenage years. I give all the credit in the world to this man. I hold my hand out, and Ray takes it, shaking it firmly.

"Mr. Grey," he returns, and his expression is absolutely impassive, though I think I might see a bit of surprise in his eyes. I watch as he shifts his gaze over to Anastasia, who is still standing with that boy, and now bites down on her lip.

Shit.

"And this is my brother, Ethan Kavanagh," Katherine introduces me to the boy who still has his arm around my girl.

Get your fucking hands off her! I want to snap. She's mine, all mine!

I force myself to greet him, though I know my gaze is still frosty.

With his free hand, he shakes my hand, and I nearly combust with rage.

Shaking my hand, while manhandling my girl, all at the same time. How fucking dare he?!

"Ana, baby," I murmur, and my endearment does the job. She comes to me, and I can't help grinning at Mr. Kavanagh. Ha.

"Ethan, Mom and Dad wanted a word," Miss Kavanagh tells the boy, and mercifully, they leave.

"So how long have you kids known each other?" Ray fishes.

I wait for Ana to speak, glancing over at her, but she looks like she's seen a ghost. I wrap my arm around her, skimming my thumb across the silken expanse of skin the back her dress exposes, urging her.

Christ, she looks amazing in this dress.

I reach up to clasp her shoulder, deciding she's not going to answer.

"Couple of weeks or so now," I answer, taking the reigns, "We met when Anastasia came to interview me for the student newspaper."

"Didn't know you worked on the student newspaper, Ana," Ray says to her, and I don't miss the admonishment in it.

"Kate was ill," she barely whispers in return.

"Fine speech you gave, Mr. Grey," Ray congratulates me.

"Thank you, sir. I understand that you're a keen fisherman." I'd really like to get to know more about this man. Despite what Ana told me when we went for coffee nearly two weeks ago. I know there's more to him than that.

Mr. Steele lifts his eyebrows, clearly surprised by my knowledge, and grins.

"I am, Mr. Grey. I try to make it out whenever I can, usually every other weekend or so."

"Please, call me Christian."

"Christian. Do you have any interest in fishing?"

Ana slips away, and I turn my full attention to Mr. Steele.

"I find it very soothing. I make it out when I can—I own a place in Aspen that hosts a wonderful fishing spot. I definitely don't make it out twice a month, however."

"Aspen," Ray says, and he seems impressed.

"I wanted to talk with you about something, regarding Ana's car, Mr. Steele."

"Call me Ray, Christian," he says.

I nod. "Ray—I'd like to buy Ana a new car, for her safety. But I, in no way, want to overstep your bounds. I understand you bought the car for Ana?"

"I did, but that was some time ago. That car is getting pretty old," he agrees.

"Yes." I launch into an explanation of the many safety features the Audi A4 has, and Ray seems impressed. "Women could use all those features," I joke, "They're not the best of drivers."

Ray laughs. "Ana barely passed her driving test," he says conspiratorially.

I laugh, lifting my eyebrows in surprise. Really. That is news to me.

Anastasia steps back into the conversation, and I have to hide my smile. I don't know why, but the knowledge that she barely passed her driving test amuses me.

"Ana, where are the restrooms?" Ray asks her.

"Back out front of the marquee and to the left," she answers him.

"See you in a moment. You kids enjoy yourselves."

And Ray is gone.

Ana glances nervously at me. A photographer approaches, and snaps a quick photo of us together.

"Thank you, Mr. Grey," the photographer thanks me, and hurries off.

I realize that I've never had my photo taken with a woman before. Another first.

"So you've charmed my father as well?" she asks me.

"As well?" I've charmed you, Miss Steele?

Her cheeks go pink, and I lift my hand to run my fingers along the heated skin there.

"Oh, I wish I knew what you were thinking, Anastasia," I whisper, lust overcoming me. I cup her chin in my fingers and tilt her head back so I can get a better look at that gorgeous face of hers. Her eyes are wide, and cornflower blue. I've never seen eyes so beautiful.

Those full, pouty lips part, and I hear her breath spike.

"Right now, I'm thinking, Nice tie." She exhales the words.

I laugh lowly. "It's recently become my favorite."

She turns bright red.

"You look lovely, Anastasia. This halter-neck dress suits you, and I get to stroke your back, feel your skin."

I can feel the atmosphere of the room change, the air thickening, growing hotter, and there's an almost electrical charge running between us. Oh, it's been too long. I'd like to have her naked and underneath me again…

She needs to say 'yes'. Please, please say 'yes', Ana…

"You know it's going to be good, don't you, baby?" I breathe.

She closes her eyes as my words hit her.

"But I want more."

"More?" Abruptly, I'm thinking back to the hike and conversation I had with Elliot only a week after we'd met. More. As in, romanticism, dinner and a movie, dates, and making love…

"More," I whisper again, and I trace her lower lip with my thumb. Depression crashes over me at the realization. Will I ever be able to give her more? "You want hearts and flowers."

She nods.

I know fucking, and whips and chains. I don't know hearts and flowers. I don't know how to make love. But I want Anastasia, badly.

"Anastasia, it's not something I know…"

"Me, either."

A small, humorless smile lifts the corners of my lips. "You don't know much."

"You know all the wrong things," she counters.

"Wrong? Not me," I argue, shaking my head. It's only what I know. It's what makes me happy, brings me pleasure. What's the wrong in that? "Try it," I beg her, my voice barely a whisper, and I'm begging her now, though I try and make the words sound challenging. If there's anything I've learned about Ana so far, it's that she loves a challenge.

I tilt my head to the side, grinning at her.

Please, baby…

"Okay."

"What?" Every nerve ending in my body has come to attention. What has she just said? Everyone around us disappears, and we are the only people in the world—it feels.

She swallows. "Okay. I'll try."

For all the waiting I've done, you'd think I'd take her for her word. But I just don't believe her right now. "You're agreeing?"

"Subject to the soft limits, yes," she murmurs lowly, "I'll try."

Joy explodes inside me, and I'm so overwhelmed, that I have to shut my eyes against it. Just when I'd thought she'd say no, that all was over between us, she says yes. Yes! I can hardly breathe at the greatness of it all. I don't know if I've ever been this happy before.

"Jesus, Ana," I say, and pull her to me, "You're so unexpected. You take my breath away."

Over her shoulder, I see Ray returning, and I step back, away from our embrace. All I want to do is take her home and fuck her now, tie her up in my playroom and really have a go at her. But—oh yes—she has company. She hasn't come with me; she's with her father. And she hasn't signed yet.

"Annie, should we get some lunch?" he asks her.

"Okay." She's blinking spasmodically at her father, a little off, I think. She looks partially dazed.

"Would you like to join us, Christian?" Mr. Steele asks, turning his attention to me.

I'm about to agree when Ana turns to me, her expression just begging me to say no. It's one of the rare times I'm able to read her thoughts so clearly. Oh. She doesn't want me to come. The realization stings.

"Thank you, Mr. Steele, but I have plans," I lie, "It's been great to meet you, sir."

"Likewise," Ray says, "Look after my baby girl."

"Oh, I fully intend to." He has no idea… And underneath all the lust, there's a small glimmer of awareness. I want to take care of her in other ways, too. I want to keep her safe and happy and warm, and fed.

Ray shakes my hand.

I turn and take Anastasia's fingers in mine, planting a soft kiss on the back of her knuckles.

"Later, Miss Steele," I whisper to her. I'll see her later tonight. I can't wait. She's finally mine, all mine, and I can do anything I want.

Now, Ray takes her elbow, and leads her away. She doesn't look back.

.

…

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Soft Limits

Date: May 26 2011 17:22

To: Anastasia Steele

What can I say that I haven't already?

Happy to talk these through anytime.

You looked beautiful today.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

…