Thursday May 26, Evening

In Anastasia's bedroom, I switch on the lamp at her bedside.

"Please don't be angry with me," she whispers, and I freeze, deterred by her words. Talk about a mood killer.

"I'm sorry about the car and the books… You scare me when you're angry." She's staring at me, those blue eyes wide and sincere, and I can see the fear in them.

I close my eyes, pained by it. No, I don't want her to be scared of me. Get your shit together, Grey, I snap at myself, shaking my head. When I open my eyes, I've calmed some. I inhale deeply and swallow.

"Turn around," I murmur, trying to soften my tone, "I want to get you out of that dress."

She does, facing away from me, and I step up behind her. I scoop her hair off her back and over her shoulder, so that it's out of the way. I can see almost every inch of that perfect alabaster skin, the near entirety of her back exposed to me. From the nape of her neck, all the way down to the back of her dress, I run my index finger along her spine, admiring her beauty.

"I like this dress. I like to see your flawless skin." I hook my finger into her top, and pull her backwards. She stumbles back, against my chest. I lean forward, and stick my nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. Mmmm. "You smell so good, Anastasia. So sweet." I skim my nose past her ear and down her neck, leaving gentle kisses along the ridge of her shoulder. I can feel the silky smoothness of her skin against my lips.

Her breathing is growing ragged. Very slowly, I undo her zipper, teasing her, making her feel the build, the anticipation. I kiss along her back, the nape of her neck, over to her other shoulder as I unzip her dress. As I do so, she wiggles subtly.

"You are going to have to learn to keep still," I breathe against the back of her neck. I undo the fastening there, and the gauzy material drops away from her body, swirling into a puddle at her feet. The entirety of her back is bare. "No bra, Miss Steele. I like that." I reach around her body, taking her breasts in my hands. They weigh perfectly in my grasp, and I can feel her nipples hardening underneath my touch. "Lift your arms and put them around my head," I command her softly.

As she does so, her breasts swell, pushing firmly into my grasp, and I can feel her nipples pucker further. I feel her fingers weave into my hair, and she tugs softly. Oh, shit, that feels nice. She rolls her head to one side, exposing the right side of her neck to me. I moan softly into it, into that zone behind her ear, rolling her nipples gently between my fingers. They are erect and elongating in my hands. She groans softly in response.

"Shall I make you come this way?" I whisper in her ear. Her body bows into my hands. "You like this, don't you, Miss Steele?" That familiar high is setting in again. She's like jelly in my hands—I'm in complete and utter control here.

"Mmmm…" she moans in response.

"Tell me."

"Yes." Her voice is breathless and shallow.

"Yes, what."

"Yes… Sir."

Mmmm… Yes. I like it when she calls me 'Sir'. "Good girl," I murmur, and I pinch each of her nipples hard. She gasps and writhes. I feel her behind against my growing erection as she pulls my hair harder. The sensation is exquisite.

"I don't think you're ready to come yet," I breathe, and I soften my hands, bringing a stop to the teasing. I nip her earlobe softly, and tug it between my teeth. "Besides, you have displeased me."

Softly, she groans.

"So perhaps I won't let you come after all," I muse, beginning to roll her nipples between my thumbs and index fingers once more. She grinds, swaying her hips side to side, against me.

I grin; dropping my hands to her hips, and hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties. They're lacy and delicate. Easily, I shred them apart, and I toss them on the floor in front of us, so she can see what I've done. I lower my hands further, feeling the heat grow, and I push one finger into her.

"Oh yes, my sweet girl is ready," I nearly hiss. She is so fucking wet, just for me. Only me. Ever. I tug, turning her around so I can see her face. I keep my eyes glued to hers as I suck on my finger, tasting her arousal.

"You taste so fine, Miss Steele." I admire this gorgeous woman standing in front of me, entirely naked except for those high-heeled shoes. She looks amazing, edible. I want to fuck her, badly. She looks so empowered, so bold, and I make a decision at once.

"Undress me," I demand.

She only stares at me; she seems a little surprised.

"You can do it."

She blinks and reaches for my t-shirt.

That familiar taste of coppery panic rises in my mouth, but I force the residual feeling down. I grip her wrists, and smile at her. "Oh no, not the t-shirt," I say, shaking my head, and I force a grin, staying playful. She can never see how terrified I am. "You may need to touch me for what I have planned."

Yes… I want to watch her above me, riding me, taking control… Mmmm.

I guide one her hands to my cock, stiff inside my jeans. "This is the effect you have on me, Miss Steele," I murmur to her. Her lips part as she inhales sharply, and wraps her fingers around me. I grin at her. She's so… taken by it all.

"I want to be inside you. Take my jeans off. You're in charge," I say to her.

Her mouth drops open, and I have to try hard not to laugh. "What are you going to do with me?" I badger her.

I'm shocked when she lifts her hands, bold and sexy, steps forward and pushes me, hard. I'm laughing as I fall back onto her mattress. She gazes down at me for a moment, fire blazing in her eyes. Fuck, she's hot in those shoes.

She reaches down to take off my shoes and socks, fumbling a couple times in her haste, and I stare at her, amused and out of my mind with desire. She clambers up over me, sitting astride my lap. She slips her fingers into my waistband. The muscles in my belly contract at her touch, a shiver jolting up my spine. I close my eyes and arch my hips softly into her hands. Oh, fuck. I want her hands on me, her mouth, and I want to be buried inside her, all at once.

"You'll have to learn to keep still," she scolds me, and tugs hard at the hair on my belly.

Ouch! My breath hitches in response to the sudden jolt of pain slash pleasure, and I grin at her. "Yes, Miss Steele." I humor her. "In my pocket, condom," I whisper.

I watch her, and she watches me, as she reaches in and fishes for the packets. When she finds them, she pulls them out and lays them on the mattress. She pops the button on my jeans, and drags the zipper down. She pauses, that little crinkle appearing between her eyebrows. She shuffles down a little and tugs, to no avail. Just when my amusement is getting the best of me, she chomps down on that lip, and I nearly lose it.

"I can't keep still if you're going to bite that lip," I warn her, and relent, lifting my hips so she can pull my jeans off.

She tugs, removing my pants and boxers at the same time, and my hardness springs up to greet her, slapping against my stomach. I kick my clothes to the floor when they reach my ankles.

She's staring at my cock, her eyes wide, lips parted. Oh, she wants me. And I want her… badly.

"Now what are you going to do?" I whisper to her, and suddenly I'm not so amused anymore, just lustful.

She takes me in her hands, and the feeling is exquisite. I inhale sharply, a gasp. Oh, her hands are warm and soft and smooth on me… Shit. All of a sudden, she's leaning forward, her hair falling around her, tickling my thighs, and her mouth is on me. Hot and warm and wet. She sucks hard, and I squeeze my eyes shut, clamp my hands into fists, my hips jerking on their own accord. Fuck!

"Jeez, Ana, steady," I warn her, moaning. Oh my fucking god. So good.

She sucks and pulls, pushing me further, taking more of me in, until I can feel the back of her throat again. She tightens her lips around me, fucking me with her mouth and—fucking shit. I'm going to come.

"Stop, Ana, stop. I don't want to come." I want to be inside of her for that. Mercifully, she releases me, sitting up. She blinks at me, as if coming out of a daze. Her hair is a smoky dark cloud around her face, her cheeks flushed with desire.

"Your innocence and enthusiasm is very disarming," I tell her, trying desperately to catch my fucking breath. "You, on top… that's what we need to do. Here, put this on." I hand her one of the condoms. For a minute, she stares at it contemplatively. Finally, she rips it open, pulling the condom out. I realize she probably has no idea how to even put one of these fuckers on, and the realization makes my cock twitch.

I am reminded again that she is solely mine. Only mine. The thought is like a burst of adrenaline, a hit of cocaine—or how I imagine a hit of cocaine would be.

"Pinch the top and then roll it down," I instruct her, "You don't want any air in the end of that sucker." I'm panting, overwhelmed by my need. Hurry the fuck up, Ana, baby. I need to be inside you.

Agonizingly slowly, she rolls the condom on. She's concentrating hard, that wrinkle between her brows showing again. "Christ, you're killing me here, Anastasia," I groan.

She sits back a moment, seeming to admire my member. Take a good look, baby. It's all for you.

"Now. I want to be buried inside you," I breathe, overcome with impatience. She just stares at me, seeming a little apprehensive.

Oh, fuck. Let's just get this show on the road!

I sit up swiftly, so close the tips of our nose nearly touch. "Like this," I coach her, wrapping one arm around her hips, hoisting her up. With the other, I grasp myself, positioning myself at her entrance, and very slowly, I lower her onto me. I clench my teeth, hissing softly at the sensation. Oh, fuck. She's so tight and warm and wet, and it's so fucking deep in this position. I can feel every inch of her clenched around me, giving, stretching, to make room for me.

She groans softly as I fill her, her lips parted as she just… feels me. The sight is unbelievably erotic.

"That's right, baby, feel me, all of me," I growl, and I shut my eyes for a second. Shittt. I clutch her tightly, holding her still for a few seconds, composing myself. What is it about this woman that makes me want to combust so quickly? It's so, so deep. Every inch of her is wrapped around every inch of me.

"It's deep this way." I flex my hips, swiveling them at the same time, pushing myself impossibly further into her, around, and she moans.

"Again," she breathes. Her eyes are on blue fire, darkened with her lust, and I grin languidly at her eagerness. I oblige immediately, arching and rotating my hips once more. She moans again, louder, throwing her head back.

I ease myself down onto my back. "You move, Anastasia, up and down, how you want," I encourage her, "Take my hands."

She intertwines her fingers with mine, our palms pressed firmly together. She braces herself against me as she starts to move, hesitantly. As her hips come back down, I buck mine up slightly; propelling her back up, and quickly, our motions are synchronized in a rhythm that is absolutely perfect. Our ragged breathing mingles together, our gazes locked. I am absolutely enthralled with this woman. She is so beautiful and amazing, brave and bold. She's willing to try. She's willing to step out of her comfort zone, and into mine, just for me. The thought is euphoric, and she barely has time to explode around me before I let go, my orgasm ripping through me full force. I empty myself into her, and I feel her fall forward, collapsing on my chest, breathing hard.

I'm lost in the clouds; flying through the free-fall my orgasm has given me. All at once, I feel her hand spread out on my chest, and I'm automatically swiping at it, gripping it firmly in mine, in order to stop her from touching me again. The panic is lessened somewhat by the fact that I'm wearing a shirt, but still.

I roll and pin her beneath me, so that I can have the upper hand. "Don't," I beg of her, and kiss her softly—hoping I'm not hurting her feelings.

"Why don't you like to be touched?" she implores, staring unbearably deeply, into my eyes.

"Because I'm fifty shades of fucked up, Anastasia."

She blinks at me, and I can see the shock and disappointment rise in her eyes, like tears. "I had a very rough introduction to life. I don't want to burden you with the details. Just don't." She doesn't need to hear about the poor hungry little boy and his crack whore mother. I brush my nose against hers, and pull out of her, sitting up.

"I think that's all the very basics covered. How was that?" I ask her. There's that. All done and finished. We've covered everything foundational. Now we can… build. Hmm.

She tilts her head to the side and smiles at me. "If you imagine for one minute that I think you ceded control to me, well you haven't taken into account my GPA." She smiles coyly. "But thank you for the illusion."

"Miss Steele, you are not just a pretty face. You've had six orgasms so far and all of them belong to me." Fucking damn, I'm proud of that!

Her cheeks pink as I gaze at her. She looks guilty. I feel my brow furrow, all of a sudden anxious that maybe that's not so. "Do you have something to tell me?" If she's been fucking lying…

She frowns. "I had a dream this morning."

"Oh?" I glare at her. About that fucking photographer? If she took action and touched herself, while thinking of him—

"I came in my sleep." All of a sudden she's throwing her arm over her face, ashamed.

The rage is gone, replaced by pure amusement. "In your sleep?" I ask her as she peeks out at me from her 'hiding place'.

"Woke me up," she admits.

"I'm sure it did. What were you dreaming about?"

She turns even redder, and now I'm really curious. "You."

Damn right. "What was I doing?"

Her arm is over her face again, and she doesn't speak.

"Anastasia, what was I doing?" I command, "I won't ask you again."

"You had a riding crop," she murmurs.

A riding crop? Well, shit, maybe there is some hope. That's hot. I reach for her wrist and move her arm, so that I can see her face. She's practically puce.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"There's hope for you yet. I have several riding crops."

"Brown plaited leather?" she asks, and do I hear eagerness in her tone? Well, now I have an idea on what to do for our first scene… I'll have to order one at my earliest convenience.

I laugh. "No, but I'm sure I could get one." I lean down to kiss her briefly, and then I grab my boxers, pulling them on. As I dress, she gets off the bed and pulls on a pair of sweats and a ragged looking camisole.

I'm idly thinking about those damn condoms, and looking forward to the day when we don't have to use them anymore. "When is your period due?" I ask her, and I'm aware the question is sort of sudden. "I hate wearing these things." I hold up the condom in explanation, and then put it on the floor so I can pull up my jeans.

She doesn't answer.

"Well?" I push, glancing over at her.

"Next week," she says, gazing at her hands. She looks a little embarrassed. Whatever. Periods have never bothered me. It's just a little bit of blood. All part of being a woman. Plus, it means she's not pregnant.

"You need to sort out some contraception."

She stares at me. I sit beside her on the mattress to pull on my socks and shoes.

"Do you have a doctor?" I ask her.

She shakes her head.

I frown, disapproving. What if she were to fall ill? I should line one up for her. "I can have mine come and see you at your apartment—Sunday morning before you come and see me. Or he can see you at my place. Which would you prefer?"

"Your place," she tells me.

"Okay. I'll let you know the time."

"Are you leaving?" She asks and she sounds so… Forlorn.

"Yes." I keep my answer firm.

"How are you getting back?" Now her voice is only a breath.

"Taylor will pick me up." I glance at the alarm clock by her bed. It's nearly ten to ten.

"I can drive you," she offers, "I have a lovely new car."

Her words please me. She sounds eager and excited about my new purchase for her. "That's more like it. But I think you've had too much to drink." She's still flushed, and I know it's not just from the sex.

"Did you get me tipsy on purpose?" she asks.

"Yes." Honesty is the best policy.

"Why?"

"Because you overthink everything, and you're reticent like your stepdad. A drop of wine in you and you start talking, and I need you to communicate honestly with me. Otherwise you clam up and I have no idea what you're thinking. In vino veritas, Anastasia."

"And you think you're always honest with me?" she challenges.

"I endeavor to be. This will only work if we're honest with each other."

"I'd like you to stay and use this," she says, holding up the second condom.

I smile, amused. "Anastasia, I have crossed so many lines here tonight. I have to go. I'll see you on Sunday. I'll have the revised contract ready for you, and then we can really start to play." Excitement flares in my gut at the thought.

"Play?" she blurts.

"I'd like to do a scene with you. But I won't until you've signed, so I know you're ready," I tell her.

"Oh. So I could stretch this out if I don't sign?"

Stretch this out… This unfamiliar fucking, this new territory… How long can I last like this? I'm dying to get her into my playroom. It's like a constant itch, too deep under my skin to reach by way of this. I know the only thing that will satisfy it is doing a scene with her.

"Well, I suppose you could, but I may crack under the strain."

"Crack? How?" she asks, and I think she's teasing me.

I nod slowly, grinning at her. "Could get really ugly."

Her answering grin is radiant. "Ugly, how?"

"Oh, you know, explosions, car chases, kidnapping, incarceration."

"You'd kidnap me?" she asks coyly.

Are we flirting?

"Oh yes." I grin at her.

"Hold me against my will?"

"Oh yes," I tell her, nodding. This is getting heated. She has no idea how much I'd like to hold her—well, not against her will. "And then we're talking TPE 24/7."

"You've lost me," she breathes, and I can see the way I'm affecting her.

"Total Power Exchange," I explain, "around the clock." Shit, I'm getting turned on again. "So you have no choice," I tell her darkly.

"Clearly." And as I watch, she rolls her eyes toward the ceiling.

Excitement flares in my gut. "Oh, Anastasia Steele, did you just roll your eyes at me?"

"No." Her voice is high and squeaky.

"I think you did. What did I say I'd do to you if you rolled your eyes at me again?" I lower myself onto the edge of the bed, trying to tame the monster clawing in my gut. I'm already stiffening in my pants.

"Come here."

She sits, staring at me fixedly. "I haven't signed," she whispers, and I can tell she's nervous. But there's no stopping me now. I'll show her just how pleasurable pain can be.

"I told you what I'd do. I'm a man of my word. I'm going to spank you, and then I'm going to fuck you very quick and very hard. Looks like we'll need that condom after all." I stare at her, waiting.

Her legs unfold from underneath her slowly. "I'm waiting. I'm not a patient man."

She crawls over to me, and I can see that she may possibly be turned on by this. Her face is pink, her lips are parted, and as she nears me, I can hear her panting.

"Good girl. Now stand up."

She stumbles to her feet, in front of me. I hold my hand out for the condom and she passes it to me. I grip her hands, tugging her sharply so that she falls over me, onto my lap. I shift slightly, so that her torso is lying on the bed. I hold her legs down with one of mine, and lay my left forearm across her lower back, effectively immobilizing her.

"Put your hands up on either side of your head," I command her. That dark, lustful, heady fog is rolling in, clouding up my mind.

She lifts her hands and plants them by her head immediately.

"Why am I doing this, Anastasia?" I ask her.

"Because I rolled my eyes at you," she whispers, barely audible.

"Do you think that's polite?"

"No," she whispers.

"Will you do it again?" I demand.

"No."

"I will spank you each time you do it, do you understand?"

I don't give her time to answer—her response is irrelevant. I reach for her sweatpants, pulling them down, so slowly, revealing that perfect ass.

Mmmm. I spread my palm out on the swell of her magnificent behind, stroking her skin, sensitizing it, feeling my palm start to tingle. Underneath her, my cock is stirring, and I wonder if she can feel it. She is so, so hot, and I am unbelievably turned on right now.

I lift my hand, and bring it down sharply. The smack my hand makes against her behind rings loud and clear in my head. My palm sparks in response, and it starts to tingle even more intensely. I haven't hit her hard—I'm starting her off easy.

She wiggles in response, trying to lift herself up, but I push my hand between her shoulder blades, keeping her down.

I run my palm over the place I've hit her, watching it turn red, in the shape of my hand, and I can hear the harshness of my breath. But I can't help it. This is so hot. How long have I waited to spank her? To make her mine? Here I am doing it, and it's so fucking sexy.

I spank her twice, in quick succession, and each time I hit her, she tries to wriggle out of my hold—to no avail.

"Keep still or I'll spank you for longer," I bark at her. Oh, my palm is really tingling, and I can tell it'll be red. I rub her ass again, admiring the beautiful pink against that alabaster skin. So beautiful.

I spank her again, and again.

She cries out on the tenth blow.

"I'm just getting warmed up." Like your skin.

I continue the process, drawing it out, and I don't know if it's for my benefit or hers.

She cries out once more, wordlessly.

"No one to hear you, baby, just me," I whisper to her. I lift my hand and bring it down sharply once more, and again, stopping in between to fondle her skin, to feel the warmth of it. Warming under my hand… Hmm.

On the eighteenth spank, I stop. I need to fuck her now. My cock is aching with the strain.

"Enough," I whisper, and I sound a little husky. "Well done, Anastasia. Now I'm going to fuck you." I stroke her behind once more, knowing it'll smart—at least for tonight—and then reach down, plunging two fingers inside of her. I nearly come on the spot. She's fucking soaked. She likes this—she's turned on by it, and the fact has my insides singing.

She gasps at my intrusion. "Feel this," I demand of her, "See how much your body likes this, Anastasia. You're soaking just for me." I am in awe of this woman. I thrust my fingers into her twice. She groans, and I pull my fingers out.

"Next time, I will get you to count. Now where's that condom?" I'm reaching for it, running my hand along the duvet—oh, it's sensitive, but I like it. I find purchase, and I pick it up, shifting Anastasia onto the mattress at the same time, face down. I want to look at that marvelous ass while I fuck her.

I free myself from my jeans and roll the condom on. I reach for her pants and remove them completely, tossing them on the floor by her bed. I push her knees up under her hips, shoving that glorious reddened ass into the air. Oh, it's really pink now, and the sight of it makes me pulse. Gently, I caress her behind.

"I'm going to take you now. You can come," I murmur, then I slam into her. Oh, fuck.

She moans loudly as I hammer into her, again and again. The sensation builds quickly, coupled with the sight I have of her ass, but for her it builds quicker. She comes loudly just in time. As she contracts around me, I let go. My orgasm is very intense, earth shattering almost. I spiral into a vortex of overwhelming joy and pure sensation.

"Oh, Ana!" I cry as I pour myself into her. I pull out of her and collapse onto the mattress beside her. That was a hell of an orgasm. I am exhausted, and absolutely sated, fighting to find my breath as I pull her on top of me, smothering my face in her hair. She smells of freesia and sandalwood and sex. "Oh, baby," I pant, "Welcome to my world."