Chapter 12: Freefalling
AKA: Savannah Part II
Healing doesn't mean the damage never existed.
It means the damage no longer controls our lives.
As soon as we'd arrived at the small airport, I climbed out of the car and hurried to open Anastasia's door, knowing she'd do it herself if I gave her the chance.
Bushing her lower back with my hand, I guided her towards the building with a sign that read 'Brunswick Soaring Association.' Inside, among the planes and gliders, Taylor was waiting for us. He was standing next to a man with a shaved head who introduced himself as Mark Benson.
"You've got a great morning for it, Mr Grey," he said with an obvious British accent. "The wind is at ten knots from the northeast, which means the convergence along the shore should keep you up for a wee while."
"Sounds great," I answered before gesturing towards my girl. "This is Anastasia Steele."
"Pleased to meet you," she said, and Benson gave her a bright smile as they shook hands.
"Likewise. If you'd like to follow me."
"Lead the way."
I took Anastasia's hand as we walked beside Benson towards the gliders.
"I have a Blaník L23 set up and ready. She's old school. But she handles well."
"Great. I learned to fly in a Blaník. An L13," I told Benson.
"Can't go wrong with a Blaník. I'm a big fan." He replied, giving me a thumbs-up. "Though I prefer the L23 for the aerobatics."
I nodded in agreement.
"You're hooked up to my Piper Pawnee," he continued. "I'll take her up to three thousand feet, then set you guys free. That should give you some flying time."
"I hope so. The cloud cover looks promising."
"It's a bit early in the day for much lift. But you never know. Dave, my mate, will spot the wing. He's in the jakes."
"Okay." I believed 'jakes' meant restroom. "You've been flying long?"
"Since my days in the RAF. But I've been flying these tail-draggers for five years now. We're on CTAF 122.3, so you know."
"Got it."
The L23 looked to be in fine shape, and I made a note of her FAA registration: November. Papa. Three. Alpha.
"First we need to strap on your parachute," Benson said as he reached into the cockpit and pulled out a parachute for Anastasia.
"I'll do that," I offered, taking the bundle from Benson before he had a chance to put it or his hands on my girl.
"I'll fetch some ballast," Benson said with a cheery smile, and he headed toward the plane.
"You like strapping me into things," Anastasia pointed out with her usual slyness, amusement transparent in the corner of her lips.
"Miss Steele, you have no idea. Here, step into the straps."
I held open the leg fastening for her. She placed her hand on my shoulder as she lifted first the right foot and then the left one, needing to hold onto me due to her lack of equilibrium. It wasn't until she'd let go that I realized she'd touched my shoulder and I hadn't reacted: I hadn't stiffened, my skin hadn't burned, and the usual darkness hadn't risen to choke me.
Trying to remain nonchalant, I hoisted the shoulder straps up over her arms and fastened the parachute.
I loved how she looked strapped down.
I loved that she was willing and happy to share with me this experience—one that required her to use a parachute in case of emergencies.
I loved her.
And now that I could recognize it to myself, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
We weren't even in the air yet, but I was already freefalling.
"There, you'll do," I answered softly, hoping I didn't sound as excited as I felt. No need to scare Anastasia away. "Do you have a hair tie?"
She nodded. "Should I put my hair up?"
"Yes."
She complied quickly.
If only she were always this docile, I thought to myself, knowing it was a lie.
I liked Anastasia's defiance and independence as much as it drove me insane, and without them she'd be yet another Sub instead of the woman I loved.
"In you go," I instructed.
Anastasia began to climb into the back, but I stopped her.
"No, front. Pilots sit at the back."
"But you won't be able to see."
"I'll see plenty."
I smiled, looking forward to seeing her enjoy herself.
She climbed in and I bent over into the cockpit to fasten her into her seat, locking the harness and tightening the straps.
"Hmm, twice in one morning, I am a lucky man," I whispered and kissed her passionately.
"This won't take long—twenty, thirty minutes at most," I told her. "Thermals aren't great this time of the morning, but it's so breathtaking up there at this hour. I hope you're not nervous."
"I'm terrified, but excited. I swear to God you're the only man who I'd allow to take me gliding," she answered, making my heart beat faster.
"I'm flattered. I'll never break your trust, Anastasia," I swore, meaning it more than ever before.
"I know," she answered, her Adriatic Sea blue eyes looking straight into my grey ones.
Suddenly, she beamed. "In you go now, Mr Grey, before the dawn escapes us."
"So bossy."
She giggled. What a lovely sound.
I quickly put on my own parachute and climbed in behind her.
Just as I'd finished fastening my harness, Benson returned with the ballast.
He checked Anastasia's straps and placed the ballast on the cockpit floor.
"Yep, that's secure. First time?" he asked her.
"Yes."
"You'll love it."
"Thanks, Mr Benson."
"Call me Mark," he replied with a friendly smile before turning to look at me. "Are you ready?"
"Yes. Let's go."
Benson nodded, shut the canopy, and walked to the Piper. Off to the right, I noticed another man—Dave, I gathered, Benson's mate—propping up the wingtip. Quickly, I tested the equipment: pedals (I heard the rudder move behind me); control stick—side to side (a quick glance at the wings and I could see the ailerons moving); and control stick—front to back (I heard the elevator respond).
We were ready to go and chase the sun.
Benson climbed into the Piper and almost immediately the single propeller started up, loud and throaty in the quiet morning. It was a sound that accompanied good memories of tranquillity and freedom, flying high above the ground, and I was looking forward to making new memories with Anastasia.
A few moments later Benson's plane began moving forward, taking up the slack of the towrope, and we were off. I balanced the ailerons and the rudder as the Piper picked up speed. Then, I eased back on the control stick, and we sailed into the air before Benson.
"Here we go, baby!" I shouted as we gained altitude.
"Brunswick Traffic, Delta Victor, heading two-seven-zero," I heard Benson say on the radio. The message wasn't for me, so I ignored him as we climbed higher and higher, further away from our earthly responsibilities and pain.
I watched Anastasia: her head whipped from side to side as she tried to take in the view. I wished I could see her smile. She seemed to be enjoying herself.
We headed west, the newborn sun behind us, and we crossed above the I-95, deserted at this early hour.
I loved the serenity up there, away from everything and everyone—everyone but Anastasia.
It was my first time sharing this experience, and I was glad I'd waited for her.
Another first with sweet little Miss Steele.
When I checked the altimeter, we were nearing three thousand feet and coasting at 105 knots. Benson's voice crackled over the radio, informing me that we were at three thousand feet and we could release.
"Affirmative. Release," I radioed back and pulled the release knob. The Piper disappeared and I rolled us into a slow dip, until we were heading southwest and riding the wind.
Anastasia laughed out loud, overjoyed. Encouraged by her reaction, I continued to spiral, hoping we might find some convergence lift near the coastline or thermals beneath pale pink clouds—the shallow cumulus might've mean lift, even this early.
Suddenly filled with a heady combination of mischief and joy, I shouted at Anastasia, "Hold on tight!"
I took us into a full roll. "Holy fuck," she squealed, her hands shooting up and bracing against the canopy.
I laughed at her reaction, and soon after I'd righted us she joined me. Her hands remained pressed against the Perspex, as if ready for more.
"I'm glad I didn't have breakfast!" She shouted.
"Yes, in hindsight, it's good you didn't, because I'm going to do that again."
This time she held on to the harness and stared directly down at the ground as she was suspended over it. She giggled, the noise mixing with the whistle of the wind. It was almost as pleasurable as hearing her say my name as she came.
"Amazing, isn't it?" I asked her.
"Yes. We're so doing this again."
Back home, my glider was only large enough for one person. I needed to buy a two-seater ASAP.
We flew, swooping majestically through the air, listening to the wind and the silence in the early morning light. Who could ask for more?
"See the joystick in front of you?" I asked her. "Grab hold."
"Are you crazy?" she screeched.
"Go on, Anastasia. Grab it," I insisted.
I felt my joystick move in my hand the moment she grabbed hers. That was my brave girl.
"Hold tight… keep it steady. See the middle dial in front? Keep the needle dead centre."
We continued to fly in a straight line, the yaw string staying perpendicular to the canopy.
"Good girl," I said, delighted by her bravery and focus. I was so proud of her. Not many could say they'd dared to get into a glider, let alone fly it, if only for a little while.
"I am amazed you let me take control," she half-joked.
"You're perfectly aware you've got me wrapped around your little finger, beautiful," I replied. That being said, we were slowly beginning to lose altitude and it was time for me to deliver us back to earth. "Back to me now."
I turned us in the direction of the airfield and called over the radio, "BMA, this is BG N Papa 3 Alpha, entering left downwind runway seven to the grass, BMA."
I got the good to go and executed another circle to bring us closer to the ground.
"Hang on, baby. This can get bumpy."
I dipped again and brought the L23 into line with the runway as we descended toward the grass. We landed with a bump, and I managed to keep both wings up until we reached a teeth-jarring stop near the end of the runway. I unclipped the canopy, opened it, released my harness, and clambered out.
I stretched my limbs, undid my parachute, and smiled down at my flushed and grinning girl.
"How was that?" I asked as I leant down to unbuckle her.
Before I could release her from the glider, she caught me unawares by grabbing my head and kissing me passionately.
Damn.
How had it taken me so long to grasp I was in love with her?
"It was extraordinary. Thank you."
"My pleasure, baby."
"Breakfast now, beautiful. What about IHOP?" I proposed several minutes later, as soon as we'd climbed into the car.
"No. Let me cook for you," she answered. "Unless you don't want to go to my mother's house?"
Her mother seemed to like me better than Anastasia herself. I had no qualms about meeting her again, especially if Anastasia was feeding me.
"It's fine with me, baby. Your mum's charming."
"Charmed, you mean. She was practically salivating!" Which was very nice of her, taking into account how impervious Anastasia seemed to be to my allurement.
"It's nice to know I still have that effect on women. You don't succumb to my every whim as others do."
She rolled her eyes at me. "That doesn't mean I don't think you're sexy."
"Did you just roll your eyes at me, Kitty?"
"No?"
"You've just earned yourself a nice spanking."
"What if I pay you with breakfast instead?" she proposed with an overly innocent voice, paired with a teasing smile and heated eyes. She didn't seem as reluctant to be spanked as her words may suggest.
"You were going to cook for me anyway."
"I could always change my mind. You didn't happen to bring those silver balls with you, did you?"
"Actually, I did," I answered.
"You're kidding, right?" she asked, surprised. I raised an eyebrow. I had brought some toys along, just in case the situation presented itself in which we could use them. The only surprising aspect was she was shocked by this; she knew what a kinky bastard I was. "You aren't."
"I also brought paddled handcuffs and nipple clamps. They're small and easy to pack."
She gaped at me for a second before replying, "Your kinkiness knows no bounds."
"I know. I'll get those balls inside you and my hands on that sweet ass of yours as soon as I can."
"Which will probably be during the flight back tomorrow."
"I can be patient if I have to."
"Barely," she huffed. She wasn't wrong. "Do you have to work today?"
"I do. I'm expecting a call from Ros soon after lunchtime." It wasn't something that could be postponed. Technically, it was bad enough I wasn't working in New York nor Seattle, and it wasn't fair for me to keep brushing off Ros.
"What about tomorrow? Maybe you can join us on the beach? At what time are we leaving?"
"Six. Maybe I'll drop by at lunchtime."
"That'd be great!" she replied, excited.
For all that talk about not wanting a relationship, I was glad she wanted to spend so much time with me outside the weekends, and even seemed to be happy her mother was getting to know me. That had to mean something, right? I knew despite the physical distance, Anastasia and Carla were close and the younger brunette valued her mother's opinion.
After some minutes of pleasurable silence, we were parking in front of a white house with several large windows. The sun hadn't been up for long, and the street was deserted, although I had seen some people surfing or walking on the sand when we'd driven by the beach.
Anastasia bent down next to the door, lifted the shell from an ornamental turtle, produced a key, and opened the front door. What an odd and funny place to keep a spare key. It seemed to fit perfectly with Anastasia's description of her mother.
Unsurprisingly, neither Carla nor her husband Bob were awake by the time we'd arrived.
As silently as possible, Anastasia made us some of her famous pancakes at my request as I got some coffee and tea done. While she finished cooking, Anastasia showed me some of the pictures Katherine had sent her from her vacation with my brother. We joked about how nauseating they were with their PDA, while I marvelled at how out of character Elliot was acting. He was a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy, and I could hardly believe he'd gone away for a whole week with a girl and her family.
We were halfway through our breakfast when Carla walked sleepily into the kitchen. Luckily, she was already dressed for the day.
"Oh, hello." She greeted us, understandably shocked to see us. "What are you doing here this early?"
"Christian took me gliding at dawn," answered Anastasia excitedly, "and then we got hungry. I wanted to cook."
"Gliding?"
"Yes. Oh, Mum, it was great! Soaring over Georgia was amazing! You've got no idea."
"It sounds like you had a lot of fun." Carla smiled, serving herself some pancakes.
I stared at Anastasia like a lovesick fool as she gushed about soaring with me, watching the world from above and the sun rising from a privileged viewpoint.
Nearly an hour later, I glanced at a clock and got surprised by how late it was. It was time for me to go back to the hotel and get to work. Anastasia and I exchanged a few emails through the morning, as she enjoyed the sun while lying on the beach and I worked from the hotel, trying to enjoy the change of scenery: the sunny Georgia instead of rainy Washington.
I got a call from my girl that afternoon.
"Hello," I spoke over the phone.
"I got the job at TWCS!" she exclaimed in lieu of a greeting.
"Congratulations, beautiful. I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you," I said, my delight for her transparent in my voice. I knew that one to be her publishing house of choice. I was happy and excited for her, as well as glad she wouldn't have to work for SIP.
"Thank you."
"We'll celebrate tonight. I'll bring the wine."
"All right. See you tonight, handsome."
That evening, I stopped at a wine store on my way to Carla's house and brought a wine I liked, as well as a locally produced one that looked promising. The place had a tourist trap at a corner, with monogrammed wine glasses, thermal glasses for camping that were supposed to keep your wine or beer cold—and which gave me ideas for Elliot's upcoming birthday—and, for some reason, travel mugs. Those made me wonder if Anastasia had a cup for work…
On a whim, I decided to take a look at them. None called my attention until I noticed a white one with the words 'Obstinate, Headstrong Girl' written in it. It seemed accurate for Anastasia, and a gift she could either love or hate—I thought she'd find it amusing, but I wasn't quite as hopeless with girls as Elliot seemed to think, and I was aware this could ignite her temper—and then I spotted the words Pride Prejudice in smaller prose written towards the bottom.
A quote from one of her favourite books, then? A quick inquiry with google assured me this was the case, so I decided to buy the travel mug and present it to her on Sunday so she could take it with her to work. Hopefully, it'd make her think of me.
Dinner was more of a pleasant experience than I could have predicted. Anastasia's lasagne was delicious, and the wines I'd picked matched it perfectly. Carla and Bob were welcoming. They asked me about my job as a CEO and my hobbies. I enjoyed sharing my experience about learning how to sail and to fly helicopters and gliders, knowing that Carla—with her penchant for learning new things—would love my stories.
"What about books and movies?" Carla asked.
"I've always been a reader. I love books, although not as much as Anastasia. Nobody does," I added, smiling at my girl, and she blushed. "I hadn't been much of a fan of movies until Anastasia came along."
"She loves to lounge on the couch and watch movies," Carla commented.
"And to talk through them," I added.
"Hey! What's the fun of watching a movie with someone if you're going to be silent all through it?"
"How do you survive in cinemas?" I asked her.
"Ugh," she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. "I'm not fond of them. Watching movies from the comfort of one's home is much more fun."
We quickly moved on to other topics, and before I knew it, dinner was over. It had been quite an enjoyable evening, but my quota of socializing was close to reaching that day's limit. On the other hand, I didn't want to leave Anastasia's company.
The decision was taken for me when Taylor called.
"We have a situation at home concerning Miss Leila Williams," he explained as I took the call privately in the living room.
"Leila?" My former Submissive?
"This morning Miss Williams was taken to the ER at Seattle Free Hope."
"ER?"
"Yes, sir. She broke into your apartment and made a suicide attempt in front of Mrs Jones and Sawyer."
Fuck. "Suicide?" The same Leila who had been as full of life as my Anastasia?
"She slashed her wrist. Sawyer and Gail took her to the hospital. They arrived in time and Miss Williams is not in any immediate danger."
"Why Escala? Why in front of them?" I could hardly believe it.
"I don't know, sir. Neither do them. But Dr Flynn was called. He's taking her to a psychiatric hospital as we speak."
"How is she? How is Gail? Why wasn't I informed earlier?"
"Sawyer just called me, sir. Miss Williams tried to escape the hospital before Dr Flynn arrived. They managed to catch her, but it was hours before they settled down, and Sawyer's priority was to ensure Miss Williams and Gail were fine."
I ran my hands through my hair. I didn't like being so out of control, nor having been left out of the loop for so long. But Luke and Gail had done the right thing, having even contacted Flynn.
"Right. How did she get into the apartment?" My security was state of the art. Leila could be sneaky, though, and she knew my apartment well.
"Through the window leading to the emergency stairs. We don't know how she managed to open it, but Sawyer was in the security office when the silent alarm went off. He caught her on the way to the kitchen. She asked for you and Sawyer informed her you weren't home." Why had she looked for me? Why did she want to see me? Where was her husband? What'd happened to him?
"She kept asking for you and it took Sawyer a while to convince her you were away, but when he did, Leila grabbed a knife and cut herself."
"Shit! Is there anything I can do?"
"No, sir. Dr Flynn has everything under control. He will call you as soon as he can. And Sawyer has already contacted Welch. They're looking for her husband."
"Mrs Jones?"
"She's fine, sir. Just shaken."
He must be going insane, so far away from the woman he loved. "Let me know if you need to fly back to Seattle tonight."
Taylor was silent for a second.
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
"I'll just say goodbye to my hosts and then return to the hotel."
I didn't feel like being around people anymore. Also, Taylor's plate was suddenly full, and I knew me being back at the hotel would scratch one thing out of the list. And of course, I wanted to be available for when Flynn called.
I took a deep breath, tried to put my hair back into place and returned to the kitchen.
"Everything okay?" asked Anastasia with a frown the moment she saw me.
"Not exactly, but it's under control now. I should get going."
"Oh. Alright. I'll walk you out."
She walked silently by my side as we made it to the door. As soon as we'd both stepped out, I shut it, needing privacy before I could explain the situation to Anastasia.
"One of my ex-Subs, Leila Williams, has just been hospitalized," I summarized as I ran my hands through my hair, stressed both by the situation and Anastasia's possible reaction.
She gasped softly and then stayed silent as I repeated what Taylor had told me. I couldn't meet her eyes. I had touched Leila's life, refused to have an actual relationship with her, and eventually, she had tried to kill herself in my apartment when she couldn't find me. In my head, I kept hearing Anastasia's accusation of me being toxic. Especially when out of all of my Subs, Anastasia and Leila were probably the most similar.
"What happened to her? Why was she looking for you?"
"I don't know. My team's been trying to contact her husband."
"She's married?"
"Yes. For over two years now. I should go back to the hotel. I ought to be listening from Flynn soon."
"Alright. Hey, look at me," she asked softly. I did so reluctantly. "Everything will be fine. Did you... care about her?"
"Not like I do about you, beautiful," I revealed with a small smile. "But I spent a few months with her. I knew her, and I hate to think of someone so lively being broken; hurting herself… I'm sorry."
"Whatever for?"
"Loading you with this. With me. I know my fifty shades alone are a lot to deal with. And now this!"
"Hey, don't say that," she ordered as she grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her understanding and resilient blue eyes. "I want you to share everything with me. I want to be your rock when you need someone to hold you up and lift you high. You ask me to trust you and to call you when I need you, and I'm asking the same from you now. After all, we belong together, don't we? I'm your sunshine. Let me shine for you."
I hugged her close, basking in her love for me and for once allowing myself to take it freely—for once feeling like an equal in a relationship. "I don't deserve you. You're the best friend I've ever had." Not that it was hard, as I wasn't one to have friends, but it only helped to show how important Anastasia was to me.
"And you're mine," she mumbled. Was she only being kind, or had I really surpassed Kate and Carla? "Promise me you'll always be my friend."
"I promise," I whispered back.
My heart now belonged with her.
Oven an hour went by before Flynn called me. There wasn't much he could reveal, obviously, as Leila's medical information was private, but he could assure me she was out of risk—and she wasn't currently dangerous for me either.
Of course, I arranged the payment for everything, ensuring she would receive the best treatment possible.
I didn't sleep much that night, my nightmares plagued with my late birth-mother, my former Subs, and Anastasia—them leaving me, them hurting themselves, them dying. I felt tempted to call Anastasia a few times through the night, but I didn't want to bother her. Also, I was apprehensive about what I could reveal in my current state of mind; I wasn't ready for her to hear that I loved her, nor did I want to expose more of my fifty shades of grey to her. Thus, I slaved away in the gym for hours with Taylor, who had decided to stay in Georgia as Gail had insisted she was perfectly fine and he'd better not return early—were all women as stubborn as her and Anastasia, or did I attract the obstinate ones? —and Welch and Sawyer had claimed Taylor could do more good by my side than back at Escala, trying to figure out how Leila had opened that window. Thus, the both of us spent nearly two hours at the hotel's gym, trying to burn our stress and frustration.
It wasn't until I had calmed down and answered several work emails that I wrote to Anastasia.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Sunshine
Date: June 3, 2011, 8:28
To: Anastasia Steele
Good morning, my sunshine
Thank you for last night. Thank you for taking care of me when I needed you.
I've spoken with Dr Flynn and realized there's nothing I can do. I'm helping the best I can by making sure she gets the best treatment possible.
Welch, my security advisor (the guy who does the background checks and tracks cell phones), has found out that Leila left her husband four months ago and ran off with a guy who was killed in a car accident four weeks ago. It broke her. I can only assume she had searched me out to find someone who could help her regain control of her life. I'm sure the psychiatrists will be able to do a better job than I could have and will manage to get her back on track.
Are we still on for lunch?
(Your) Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I was surprised to hear from her after a few minutes. I'd assumed she'd be enjoying her vacations by sleeping in late.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Glad you're fine
Date: June 3, 2011, 8:35
To: Christian Grey
Hello, Handsome
I'm happy to hear you're doing better. I'll always be there for you when you need me. Don't ever doubt to ask for my help and remember you can tell me anything. I want to be your confidant. I want to know you better every day.
I'm sure Leila will heal with time. It's very kind of you to make sure she's taken care of.
We are most definitively still on for lunch. I'll hunt you down if you don't show up at noon at my mother's house. Bob's making barbeque. He doesn't have to go to work today. After lunch, Mum's accompanying him to physical therapy. Both of us can go down to the beach without them, or you can bring some of your toys and we can have some fun.
Don't forget your trunk shorts.
Laters, handsome
Your Ana
Your sunshine
XOX
As I started to read her words my chest grew warmer. My heart had never felt so full yet light before.
By the end of the email, not only my chest but also my pants felt too tight.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Sunshine
Date: June 3, 2011, 8:39
To: Anastasia Steele
My toys and I will be there at noon.
Your Christian
XXX
I felt silly sending kisses and hugs, but XXX—like the highly pornographic material—was something I could live with.
I spent the rest of my morning immersing myself in my work and trying to keep brunettes out of my mind. At noon, I changed into jeans and a plain shirt, made sure everything was packed in my suitcase and checked out of the hotel—as we'd be leaving Georgia that evening.
Anastasia greeted me with worried and compassionate eyes by the door, and she didn't seem to care I wasn't as talkative and charming through our meal as the night before. Sitting next to Anastasia and getting to feel her skin—even in an innocent way—did help to lift my mood, making me feel more tranquil.
Soon after lunch, Carla and Bob left for kinesiology.
I was ready to sink into my girl and forget all my troubles for a little while.
"Why don't you show me your room?" I suggested, my husky voice revealing my true motives—not that I didn't expect Anastasia to see through my suggestive comment, which had made me sound as unsubtle as a teenager or my brother.
"Let's go," whispered Anastasia, desire transparent in her deep voice and her dilated eyes. I grabbed my suitcase, which I had left by the door, and followed Anastasia upstairs.
The instant we'd walked into her bedroom, I doped my luggage, closed the door and pressed Anastasia against a wall.
It wasn't her childhood bedroom, as Carla hadn't been living in Georgia for long, but it'd make do…
I kissed her intensely, letting her feel all my passion and desire for her.
"It's about time you delivered, Anastasia. Time for your spanking."
"Yes, Master."
"Why am I punishing you?" I asked her as I guided us towards her bed.
"Because I rolled my eyes at you and it's rude."
It didn't sound as if she was lying, but it still didn't feel like the truth to me—not that the eye-rolling didn't honestly irk me. Rather, I was spanking her because I loved it, and she loved it just as much, and there was no reason not to please ourselves and each other in any way we desired.
"That's right, Kitty," I said nonetheless as I sat down on the bed. "Come here."
I reached for her, guiding her so she was standing in front of me, and undressed her quickly, needing to see all of her.
"Turn around and grab your ankles."
She did as told—that is to say, as she pleased, for she was clearly looking forwards to the Ben Wa balls.
I left her waiting with her ass up in the air as I walked back to the door, where I'd left my suitcase. I unzipped it and looked for the toy quickly. As soon as I'd obtained Anastasia's precious silver balls, I placed them in my mouth to warm them and returned towards my needy girl. Her lips were already glistening with arousal. I caressed her pussy from the outside before sliding two fingers inside of her.
I knew her so well it took me a second or two to find her G-spot. I rubbed it with vigour for several seconds, wanting to ensure she was well lubricated, before inserting the toy inside her.
"Stand up," I instructed once the Ben Wa balls were safely in place. She straightened out and gasped softly. "You okay?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good." I sat down on the bed once again. "Get across my knees."
I guided her into position and as soon as she was stable, I began spanking her. She moaned as the toy moved inside her, not counting as usual.
In the past, I'd suspected counting made her feel safer and grounded, and I wondered if Anastasia's silence meant she felt more comfortable with me than before.
I alternated between both of her ass cheeks, the conjunction of her thigh, and her pussy as I continued spanking her. I mentally counted eight spanks as I slowly increased the strength of my hand.
"I won't stop until you ask me to," I said then. I didn't increase the intensity of the spanks after that and allowed myself to get lost in the rhythm, the sting in my hand, her reddening skin, and her moans.
It was several spanks later that Anastasia said "Stop."
I complied instantly, before even realizing she hadn't actually safe-worded. It was a first for me, to have a girl ask me to stop instead of saying 'red' or 'yellow.' Had Anastasia used the word 'stop' because of her relative newness to the lifestyle, or because our relationship had shifted monumentally from what it used to be back in the club?
"Lie down on your stomach," I instructed. "Do you have lotion?" I could reflect more later. Caring for my girl came first.
"Yes, Master. It's in the bathroom."
I stepped into the en-suite bathroom. It was small, the shower being just large enough for one person. There was only one cabinet under the sink, which was mostly empty, so it took me next to no time to find the vanilla-scented lotion. I returned to the bedroom to find Anastasia lying on her stomach, completely relaxed.
I coaxed her legs apart and crawled between them, where I had a vantage point of her engorged wet pussy.
I squeezed some lotion into my hand and rubbed her red ass carefully. She sighed and moaned encouragingly as I touched her skin, leading me to massage her legs and then her back. She seemed to melt under my hands as she kept expressing her pleasure. I spent a few minutes working on the knots of her back, probably a consequence of her exams, the graduation and the job interviews.
Eventually, her moans got to be too much for my dick. I climbed out of bed and undressed quickly before removing the silver balls from inside Anastasia and replacing them with my engorged member. She was as deliciously wet and warm as usual. I fucked her hard and fast, too horny to keep dragging out our pleasure. Soon we were both coming, screaming out each other's names.
Half an hour later we were downstairs, dressed for the beach and making out like teenagers on Carla's couch. This was a new experience for me—making out with a girl in her parent's home—and as I understood it, Anastasia hadn't done much of this either when in High School.
Anastasia jumped away from me the instant she heard a car parking in front of the house, and we hurriedly fixed our clothes and hair before Carla and Bob had walked into the house. Later, as we walked towards the beach, Anastasia insisted her mum had looked at her as if she'd known what we'd been up to, and it took me a while to convince her she didn't look dishevelled.
There was something to be said about Anastasia in her colourful bikini, looking sexy and full of life.
She let me put sunscreen on her soft skin. We lunged together under the sun, enjoying a relaxing afternoon together like I hadn't done in a very long time… If ever. I wasn't one to just lay under the sun by the beach during my vacations: I preferred to be active.
I was growing agitated by the inactivity, coupled with the stares both Anastasia and I were earning from strangers. I got up and picked up Anastasia in my arms before she could realize my plan.
"Don't you dare!" she screeched as I ran towards the water. Carla began laughing. "Mum, help me!" whined Anastasia, but her mother only crackled louder.
I walked into the cold water, mindful of the children playing on the shore with their parents. As soon as the freezing seawater had brushed Anastasia's butt, she pushed against my chest.
For over two decades, every time someone had touched my chest or back, darkness had swelled inside of me, making it hard for me to breathe and forcing me to relive the burn of the cigarette against my skin. I had learnt to evade unwanted touch like a normal person dodges a launched object or steers clear of hot items. Thus, when Anastasia touched my chest, I instinctually dropped her to keep her away from my skin.
Naturally, Anastasia hadn't expected to suddenly find herself in the sea, so she breathed in some water. She was coughing painfully by the time she'd risen out of the water.
"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, helping her stand up. I rubbed her back soothingly as the coughing subsided, feeling terrible for the pain I'd caused her.
"It's okay," she said, her voice slightly hoarse. "Are you okay? I'msorry I touched you. I did it without thinking. I should've known better."
"Shh. It's not your fault. I pushed you into it. I'm perfectly fine." Oddly enough, I was fine. My skin hadn't burned at all. I hadn't had any trouble breathing. Anastasia's touch hadn't affected me like other people's did, much like with my sister Mia. "You just startled me. I know you won't hurt me."
"How does it feel like to be touched there?" she asked softly.
"It'd been a while ever since someone touched me. It used to… burn." Her eyes watered. "It didn't hurt when you touched me though," I assured her, still unable to believe it. "I'm really fine. And… confused. You surprised me. That's why I dropped you."
"It really didn't burn? That's great, Christian!"
I smiled shyly at her. "It is. Maybe…" I swallowed hard, finding it hard to say what I was thinking but needing to do so nonetheless. "I think I'd like to try again, but not right now. I should talk with Flynn…"
"We have all the time in the world, and if you're never ready, that will be fine with me too. I just want you to get better. For yourself. Not so that I can touch you, but that you can be touched."
She truly was my angel.
Sorry for the delay! I had a couple of bussy days.
I hope you liked this chapter! Quite the emotional rollercoaster for Christian!!