I do so hope you guys are enjoying the many-chapter rush I've hit.
Truth of the matter, I went to a party this weekend that left me greatly inspired.
It was pretty seedy, but it was also a ton of fun. HO-LY SHIT.
I plan on writing a one-shot story about my night, so keep an eye out for that.
Ch 17: Be Careful What You Wish For
I come to a few moments later, Christian cradling me in his arms. I'm unbound and under the covers.
"What happened?"
He smiles kindly down at me.
"You passed out."
Passed out? My mind flies through the implications. I could have a heart problem or a blood pressure issue or...
Christian laughs gently at me. "Don't worry. It's nothing to be concerned about. The French have a name for this, it's called La Petite Morte. It usually happens because you're not getting quite enough blood to your brain." He smiles widely. "It's all concentrated... elsewhere."
I blush crimson and snuggle into him slightly before catching myself. Christian stiffens beneath me, my face in his chest hair, before carefully extracting himself from me.
"Come eat some food, then you should get some sleep, Miss Steele. You have a big day tomorrow," he says, walking out of the room and coming back with a super fluffy white bathrobe for me. I climb out of bed and don the robe. It's luxurious in the way 1000-thread count sheets and silk underwear are. Having experienced these things since meeting Christian Grey, I can attest that they are the indulgences in life that seem unimportant until you finally try them. Then it's hard to imagine how you did without them for so long.
We sit down to our ice cream and tea, probably the oddest room service order I've ever heard of, and I shoot him a quizzical look while stuffing a spoonful of salted caramel ice cream in my mouth. "What's tomorrow?"
"Don't tell me you've forgotten about your own graduation."
Fuck. I'm graduating from college tomorrow. I stop completely, the spoon halfway to my open mouth, freaking out.
"What time is it?" I ask quietly, still not moving.
"It's a little after five a.m." he says nonchalantly.
Holy shit! My father is supposed to pick me up at my apartment in three and a half hours!
I drop my spoon completely, letting it clatter into the bowl, fling my chair back and stand, spinning in place, trying to figure out what my next step should be.
"Whoa, slow down, Anastasia."
I stop and look at Christian, a deer in the headlights. I can't think. I can't plan. All I can do is panic.
"Let me help you. What is your schedule like? Do you have family coming into town?"
I nod. "Dad's picking me up at 8:30. We're having breakfast then I have to be at the school at 10. Graduation then lunch." I take a shaky breath. "But I have to get home, I have to shower. I have to... find some underwear..."
"Sit down, Anastasia."
His demeanor has changed again and I know I have to do as he says. I want to do as he says. Surprisingly, I find myself calming completely when I grab my chair again and sit down. Christian is going to tell me what to do. He'll take care of everything.
"First thing's first. Text your father. Ask him to meet you at breakfast and you'll find your own way there." He hands me my phone — why did he have my phone? — and I send the text immediately.
"Why don't you text Kate to bring your cap and gown to the school, but I have some clothes here for you."
By the time we finish up our late night snack, it's almost 6 a.m.
"Is it alright if I take a shower now?"
I'm sitting there, my napkin on my lap still, looking innocent. I don't want to delay much longer. I have to be presentable today. I'm meeting my dad, for god's sake! I can't stink of Christian Grey and all the sex we've had! I silently beg him to let me spend some time remaking myself into the sweet co-ed Ray knows me as.
He gives me a sly smile. Uh-oh. He stands and offers his hand. I take it, standing up, leaving my napkin on the table.
"Of course, Miss Steele. Right this way."
Something tells me it won't be this easy. That smile oozes mischief and mischief spells delays. It's a good thing I still have a couple hours before I have to go.
He leads me into the master bath, holding my fingers gently the whole way. He leans into the glass shower enclosure and turns on the water, testing the temperature. After he's satisfied, he turns back to me and slowly unties the belt on my robe.
I can't look away from his eyes as he parts the robe slightly, letting it hang open over my breasts. He slides his hands down the terrycloth collar until he reaches my pert nipples, letting his finger run smoothly over my skin.
"Miss Steele, you are not a naturally-inclined sub," he says, his fingers roaming along my torso.
I catch my breath. "I'm sorry, sir! What did I..." I stop. Of course, I'm looking right at him. I divert my gaze at my toes but get distracted by the bulge in his jeans, unable to pull my eyes away.
His finger lifts my chin back up so I'm meeting his eyes again. "No, it's okay. I find it..." He seems to be struggling to find the words. "I find it exciting." With both hands he pushes my robe slightly so it falls from my shoulders, pooling at my feet. "Don't look away," he says softly, his hands smoothing over my skin once more.
I try not to shift on the spot, so thoroughly enjoying this connection, this intimacy that we haven't really been sharing since I signed the contract all of eight hours ago. But when his eyes move down my body, lingering on my breasts, following his hands down between my legs, I can't hold back the sigh, my head tips back as my back arches and my eyes close.
He grunts and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and he carries me into the shower. His jeans have somehow disappeared entirely. My heart beat races and the space between my thighs gets even wetter than the rest of my body under the stream of the shower.
"If you're going to look away when I tell you not to..." Before I really know what's happening, Christian sets me down on my feet and ties the belt from my bathrobe over my eyes, blindfolding me. I panic momentarily, but then I remember what Christian said about trust and fear transforms into excitement, the adrenaline pounding in my ears.
I feel the cold marble against my back as he presses against my front, the water streaming over us both. He takes my wrists in his hands and pulls them above my head. All I can hear is the water as he ties my hands to the metal pipe of the shower head, stretching my already sore arms and shoulders just barely in the process.
With my vision and my hearing practically eliminated, my sense of touch is enhanced. The slow trickle of warm water over the skin of my neck, my shoulders, my breasts, down my stomach, my back, my legs... It's all driving me wild with anticipation. I need Christian's touch.
"Tell me what you want, Miss Steele," he says over the rush of water. He sounds far away.
"I want you, sir."
He laughs a little — a sound that makes me shiver despite the heat of the water. "You're going to have to be a little more specific than that, Miss Steele."
I can feel the blood rush to my face. I want your cock inside of me now! is what I want to say, but I just can't make myself form the words. "I want you to... To touch me, sir." Before I've even finished the sentence, I can feel his teeth on the underside of my upper arm, scraping against my skin, surprising me at the intensity of the sensation. He bites down on my tricep and my knees buckle slightly, leaving me hanging from my wrists.
"Now Miss Steele," he whispers, letting his tongue circle the outer edge of my ear. "Is that what you meant? Are you satisfied?" He nibbles gently on my earlobe, forcing a strangled sigh out of my throat. "Did you come yet?"
"No, sir."
"Well, then, I guess you need to give me more instruction. Tell me what you like." But I don't know what I like! That's the whole point!
"I like it when you kiss my neck," I say shyly. I don't know that I can handle this — the responsibility of leading — but I am definitely enjoying the benefits. He takes his time, working his way from my ear to my collar bone, kissing, nibbling, and sucking as he goes, careful not to touch me anywhere else.
"I like it when you touch my..." I can't do this.
"Your what, Anastasia?" he says, speaking into my collarbone.
"My breasts," I gasp.
Softly, his hands caress the very top of my breasts, his fingers just grazing the skin.
"Lower," I say before my modesty can stop me. He does as I command, letting his fingers linger on my nipples before skimming that sensitive skin below. I arch my back, pressing my breasts into his hands. "Harder."
"Harder?" I can tell he's smirking, as he kisses the spot just between my neck and my shoulder.
"Rougher," I clarify. He squeezes each breast, scraping his fingernails along the sides, pinching my nipples, his touch feverish. A deep moan echoes in the bathroom as I have another mini-orgasm.
"I think you're enjoying this, Miss Steele. Telling me what to do," he says before biting into my neck hard.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you have any other likes?"
"I..." I hesitate. I can't say what it is I'm thinking. I just can't.
"Do you like it when I pull your hair?"
I nod.
"Say it."
"Pull my hair, Mr. Grey." Almost immediately, I feel a rough tug on my wet locks, pulling my head back hard, arching my back further.
"Do you like it when I kiss you, Miss Steele."
"Oh, kiss me!" I nearly scream when his mouth covers mine, his tongue pushing in, pressing against mine. It's like he's fucking my mouth with his tongue.
Still pulling my hair and fondling my breast, he pulls back from our kiss.
"Tell me what you want, Ana."
"I want you to spank me, sir."
Shit! Did I really just say that out loud? Sure, I've been thinking it ever since our first time together, but I hadn't even considered asking him to do it. I'd been quite a bit disappointed by the measly five slaps I've gotten since.
A long moment passes before he says anything, his grip on my hair and my breast slacking in the meantime.
"You want me to spank you?"
"Yes, sir." It's barely audible over the crash of water. "And to fuck me."
He growls quietly, his hands leaving my skin, all contact cut off. I whine slightly and wiggle in discomfort.
"Are you sure?"
"Please, Mr. Grey," I say. "Do it hard."
Another long moment passes and then I'm being spun around, my wrists crossing above my head, my arms and back stretched further as he pulls my hips towards him, putting me directly under the jet of water again. I hang my head so I'm able to breathe.
"Be careful what you wish for, Miss Steele," he snarls. I'm terrified but I do not regret my request. Yet.
He slaps me, hard, much harder than before, on the right side of my ass. The water gives it a horrifying cracking sound. The force of the slap pushes me forward, my elbows hitting the marble. With all my will power, I manage to find my voice. "One."
"Is that hard enough for you, Miss Steele?" He sounds angry, his voice strained. Before I can respond, he slaps me again, this time on the left. It's even harder than before, my elbows making contact with the marble again, leaving them feeling bruised.
"Two," I cry. This is so good, but I am starting to feel fear creeping in. If I can keep it at bay, I can ride this out to what is sure to be a mind-blowing orgasm.
"If I don't trust you," he pants, "how can you trust me?" He hits me again twice, once on each leg. I can tell he's starting to really put his back into it. The stinging is intense and the pain lingers much longer than before, but I manage to keep count.
I shriek as he changes the temperature of the water. Where it had been a warm, soothing temperature, reminding me of the heat of his body against mine, it's now as cold as ice water. The shock of it hurts, my nipples tightening to painful points. He hits me again and again: on the ass; on my thighs; on my hips; and on my sex. Those are the worst ones of all. They leave me feeling raw, yearning for more but fearing it, too.
"I need to trust you," he growls, landing the fifteenth blow, this one hitting me squarely on the apple of my right ass cheek. "And you need to trust me." This, the sixteenth slap, hits me in the center of my left side. It's the hardest so far and forces my knee to give. I slip slightly on my right foot and the cuffs holding my wrists pull painfully at my already strained shoulders.
Instead of counting this time, I yell, "Yellow!" at the top of my lungs.
He stops immediately, pulling at my hips to get me upright again, then spinning me around to face him. He pushes my hips with his hands until I'm standing with my back flat against the marble wall, my hands above my head still, but the pressure on them relieved. The water pounds down, loud in my ears and cold on my skin as it bounces off Christian's chest. I don't even hear the rip of foil.
His mouth is on mine and I moan into him, the full lengths of our bodies touching finally, giving my desire purchase. He lifts me up by my still stinging thighs and plunges into me hard.
Finally, is all I can think as he slams into me over and over, his tongue still in my mouth. He presses my thighs higher until my pelvis is pinned against the marble, unable to move even slightly. He leans back from me, ending our kiss.
"Do you like that, Miss Steele?" he breathes.
"Yes, sir."
"Tell me."
"Fuck me, Mr. Grey." He does, but gentler. "Fuck me harder, Mr. Grey." He does, but slower. "Fuck me hard, fuck me fast!"
I can practically hear him smile. "Careful what you wish for, Miss Steele."
