A short one-shot (possible two-shot). A whole lotta nothingness. Marriage isn't always easy, but even after all these years they manage to make things work.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or lyrics. Storyline is my own.
STILL INTO YOU
Can't count the years on one hand
that we've been together.
I need the other one to hold you,
make you feel, make you feel better.
It's not a walk in the park
to love each other.
But when our fingers interlock,
can't deny, can't deny you're worth it.
'Cause after all this time,
I'm still into you.
-Still Into You (Paramore)-
(CPOV)
The heavy thumps of her storming feet bounce off the marble floors of our suite, her quick steps carrying her to the master bedroom. I can hear the fury rolling off of her slender shoulders as I follow behind, mindful that she may turn around at any second and I'd be met with her tiny fist balled up and directed squarely at my face.
Unfortunately for me, she'd be completely justified in doing so.
But I can't bring myself to care. For as wrong as I know I was in all of this, I can't help myself.
"You make me so crazy sometimes! I swear to god Christian!"
Angrily throwing her jacket onto the bed, she kicks off her shoes, wildly pacing back and forth. We hadn't been in the room for more than two seconds before the screaming started.
Angry Ana was a combination of scary and sexy. To see my usually calm and demure wife so riled up left me in a confusing state of equal parts fearful and aroused. However the icy glare from those usually serene baby blues tells me she was anything but in the mood for some playful banter. She wanted to kill me and I knew it. It's a look I've only seen a handful of times during our marriage, but this time I just know I've really gone and made a mess of things.
It all started at dinner after a few brisk comments thrown at each other before she excused herself from the table with what little patience she had left, leaving me to chase after her as everyone else at the table murmured in hushed tones. I didn't care what they thought; what I did care about was the quickly retreating form of my wife flagging down the elevator.
"You can't keep doing this! I don't care how jealous you are, nothing was going on! You absolutely humiliated me back there!" The rise in her voice, the flushed angry heat in her cheeks, and her quickened breaths made me nervous. I hated being on the end of her bad moods; it made me feel like shit knowing it really took a lot to get my wife going. Yet, surprise surprise, I'm the only one who could truly piss her off like this.
"Do you really think I give a damn that you feel a little embarrassed? I just watched some fucking asshole put his hands all over you while you let him! You did nothing! How can you possibly not see my side in any of this?" I bit out just as angrily.
"Nothing was ever going to happen Christian, I had it under control!"
"Was that before or after he nearly kissed you, groping at you like you belonged to him? You just let it happen!"
A grunt of frustration left her lips, her scowl deepening.
"You are insane! I cannot keep having this argument with you! He was never going to kiss me! We are just friends!"
"Don't even start with that lie, Ana. You were never just friends, certainly not to him."
The narrowing of her eyes as she stared furiously back at me made my breaths hitch momentarily. Arousal was taking over my fear. Shaking my head, I tried to focus. "Christian Grey, I have not spoken to the man in years! For crying out loud I am married with two children – your children – might I remind you. He can think all he wants, but I'm pretty sure this gigantic ring on my finger speaks loud and clear for whom I belong to." She all but sneers. "Christian he knows I'm gladly spoken for, but if you continue along this line, I'm all but certain you won't be leaving this room alive, freeing me up for whoever the hell would want me."
I can't stop the short laugh that leaves my lips, infuriating her more. As much as I hate to argue with her, she's still the adorable little spitfire that I married.
Even after all these years my jealousy when it comes to Jose-fucking-Rodriguez gets me in shit time and time again. Admittedly over the years my jealousy has become more manageable; it doesn't hurt that Jose has been travelling the world and is rarely in one spot for more than a few days, or the fact that I'm blessed with watching my beautiful family grow before my very eyes every single day, but with Jose it always feels like the first time I met him and I saw the way he looked at my Ana. I have no doubt they would have ended up together had I not met her, and the thought has never sat well with me. He would always carry a torch for Anastasia and I hate that she continues to consider him her friend, still naïve after all these years. She continues to deny that she ever had feelings for him, but I can't shake the feeling that she would've grown to love him with time. Jose loved her, that much was obvious. And though I hate the guy, I know he would've taken care of her given the chance.
"You need to stop this right now. Forever. I hate having this fight! You do not get to tell me who I can and cannot be friends with. You knew from the start that I would never let that happen, yet you continue to act like a lunatic whenever it comes to who I decide to be friends with. And with Jose? He's. My. Friend. That is all – and you need to understand that yeah, if every five years he wants to go out for dinner with me and ten other people present, including my husband, then I'm going to go. With or without you next time."
"You're being a real b-"
"Don't you dare say it." She snaps, the ire flashing darkly in her eyes. "Don't. You. Dare."
-itch, I finish in my head.
Duly chastised, I look away. As angry as I can get with her, not once in the five years that we've been married have I ever uttered a vile word towards her. Admittedly we've had a few heated arguments over the years, a few real scorching ones, but I pride myself on knowing I have not once given into saying out loud the sometimes nasty running commentary in my head. Arguing with her could just be so damn maddening at times.
"Now you can either apologize or find your own damn room to sleep in tonight."
I scoff, rolling my eyes. Like I would ever let that happen. That only left room for one Mr. Rodriquez to keep her warm in that bed once he found out we were fighting.
Blandly, I stare back at her letting her know that I didn't plan on going anywhere.
"I mean it Christian. I can't even look at you right now. Either you leave or I will." The weary change in her voice takes me by surprise.
Blearily, she waits for my decision, no longer willing to fight. Gone is the anger; now, even worse, is the disappointment. "This was supposed to be my chance to catch up with some old friends and you ruined that for me. You don't even care about my feelings or how this has upset me. All you can think about is your petty jealousy, and do you know how that makes me feel? Do you?" Her voice quivers, her eyes watering with her frustrations. I hate when she cries. "It makes me feel like you don't trust me. Like you think I'm capable of doing something so terrible to our marriage, as though our life together means nothing to me. But you're wrong, because our life together means everything to me and for the life of me I can't understand how you don't see that.
How you can so easily just shut down and ignore how much I love you, how much my world revolves around you and only you hurts me deeply. When you act like this Christian, I can't help but think you don't believe that you're everything to me and that I would just throw away everything we've built together so easily. And that's what hurts the most – that you even question my devotion to you. Having you doubt my faithfulness to you and our marriage, to our children leaves me with the worst feeling. Nothing hurts me more, Christian, nothing. I hate it. I don't know how else to prove to you that I would never leave you, that I would never betray our love like you believe I would so easily do."
That all too familiar lump of guilt bubbles in my throat making it difficult to swallow. Of course I wasn't thinking about how she'd feel. Selfish as always, at that moment at dinner all I could think about was seeing Jose leaning in close to my wife, whispering into her ear and making her laugh. That dick move, which I'm certain was meant to get a rile out of me, snapped a dark part of my former self back to life which I thought I had long since had control over. All my insecurities about being good enough for Ana, being the right one for Ana, came flooding back to me and I couldn't see anything else. It's as though I suddenly forgot that I was Christian Grey, Ana Grey's husband and father to her children; instead, I was back to being that miserable fucker I was before I met her. I couldn't see the shock in her face when I snapped at Jose to back the fuck off my wife in front of the entire table of guests, nor the heated bloom of humiliation jarringly obvious on her surprised face as this time-warp mindfuck took over.
"I'm sorry." I offer lamely, though I know I've really and truly messed things up this time. "I… I…"
"Please, just go." She whispers, her back turned to me so I can't see her cry. I don't know which feels worse: the fact that she's crying, or that my presence is no longer wanted. She doesn't want me anymore. I have no one to blame but myself. "Just go."
"Where am I supposed to go?" I all but whine.
She shrugs her shoulders.
"Don't do this."
"I didn't do anything. I never do anything, yet I'm always the one in trouble. I'm always the one that's done something wrong."
"I know you didn't do anything." I offer, but it's of no consolation. I've already hurt her.
"It's too late for you to realize that now Christian. You've already embarrassed me. You've already made me feel… I don't even know how to describe it anymore. I feel sick to my stomach, and I can't have you around me right now. Just leave, please, you're making this worse and you've hurt me so much tonight."
"I can't leave you Ana. You know this."
"Just go! I don't care what you can and cannot do. I don't want to see you!" She cries, storming into the bathroom. And with the loud thud of the door and the hiss of the lock, she's gone.
Her cries echo off the bathroom walls almost immediately, broadcasting her hurt all over the room for me to hear. It's a different kind of torture, not seeing her but knowing how terribly upset she is. Even worse is knowing that there's nothing that I can do, having been the cause of all of this to begin with. Without a second thought I leave like a coward, unable to listen a second longer.
Sitting at the hotel bar I look repulsively at the third glass of scotch sitting empty in front of me, my eyes agitatedly watching the doorway that leads back to the hotel lobby. A part of me worries that I'll see Ana running out the door, out of the hotel, and into the arms of her friend no doubt lamenting how terrible of a husband I am.
Fuck, that would never happen.
I groan, the voices in my head at war. As terrified as I am that she would do exactly that, deep in my heart I know that the woman I married would never do such a thing. She would never jeopardize our marriage no matter how much I seem to make her feel that way or push her in that direction. Ana's worked so hard over the years to prove to me that I was indeed worthy of her and that it was my own insecurities I needed to deal with rather than impulsively lashing out at her any time I got scared. But it's moments like these, after the fact, when I truly hear her words. Fuck, I'm an idiot.
"There you are." Elliot comes walking through said door that I've been staring a hole through all night. "I've been trying to call you."
"I know." I state unblinkingly, refusing to acknowledge his presence as my eyes remain fixed on the doorway.
"Are you okay?"
"Why?"
"Considering that clusterfuck at dinner, I figured Ana would have thrown you off the balcony by now." I almost wish at this point. At least I wouldn't have to sit here with this escalating fear consuming me. "What happened man, that was painful to watch. I thought you were past all this shit."
Taking the seat next to me, I can't stop the shaky sigh from escaping my lips. I really and truly messed things up. I can't get the hurt in her eyes out of my head, or the sadness in her voice that cuts more deeply than if she had just screamed at me for hours. At least then I knew we were fighting for something. Instead, she had just given up on the argument, accepting this idea in her head that I think she would be capable of being unfaithful. Was she also giving up on me? Had I finally gone and pushed her too far?
The knife twisting in my stomach twists a bit more.
"I'm so fucking stupid."
Elliot nods his head.
"Kate's with her now. It's pretty bad, Ana's devastated."
"I know. Just fucking kill me."
"You need to control that goddamn temper of yours. I haven't seen you this angry in a long time. I'm talking pre-Ana angry, and bro, you were a miserable son-of-a-bitch back then. Sometimes I still can't believe that asshole and you now are the same person."
"Me either."
"Did you try to talk to her?"
I nod.
"And?"
"I was an asshole. That's why I'm here."
"Shit, Christian. Really? For someone so goddamn smart, you're a fucking moron when it comes to Ana."
"I know."
After I tell him about the argument, I nearly regret it as I see the exasperation in Elliot's eyes. "Bro, you keep pulling this shit and Ana will leave you. You can't keep hurting her like this and making her the bad guy."
"I know, okay? I know!"
"No, you don't. Everyone gives you a free pass because of how far you've come, but hell if Ana's going to be as nice. She's been there since the beginning with you and she's not going to tolerate you hurting her that way. She's an amazing girl; smart, kind, with the patience of a saint to put up with you. But don't think for a second that you're in charge of this marriage, it's Ana one-hundred percent. You need to go back upstairs and beg for forgiveness before my wife convinces her to dump your sorry ass once and for all. And I gotta say, I'd be on her side this time."
"She doesn't want to see me. She's so mad, El. I don't know how I can fix any of this."
"Well, you better figure something out. Every minute you're not up there grovelling is another minute that that sweet girl of yours is upset. And that pisses me off."
"Can I just stay with you tonight? There's no way she's going to listen to anything I have to say right now. She can't even stand to have me in the same room as her."
"What would you say?"
Truthfully, I didn't know. Saying sorry wouldn't be enough.
The two-hour drive back to Seattle was terrible. It was just the four of us: Elliot and I in the front, Ana and Kate in the back with Taylor and Sawyer following in the car behind us. It was halfway through the drive when we stopped at a gas station because Ana needed to use the bathroom; instead, she had just gotten out of the car without a word and climbed into the other car for the rest of the trip. She couldn't even manage to be in the same car as me, that's how angry she still was.
I hadn't spoken a word to Ana since last night, Kate having spent the night in the suite I had booked for Ana and I to make love in until the morning since we didn't have the kids with us. It's been hard for us to get away just the two of us, and we were both looking forward to this weekend alone. Instead, I slept on the couch in Elliot's room, ate breakfast by myself, and then headed out to the cars. Even Kate, who would never miss the opportunity to goad me when Ana and I were fighting, was eerily quiet.
By the time we got back to the Sound, having dropped Elliot and Kate off at their house beforehand, I dreaded walking through that door. Holding it open for Ana as she stepped out of the car behind me, she walked past me not once acknowledging that I was even there. I didn't have much time to dwell on it as the soft pitter-patters of four tiny feet came running through the foyer.
"Mama! Dada!" Phoebe's little voice squeals in delight, reaching Ana first and quickly being swooped up into the air as I watch dejectedly at Ana and her mini-doppelganger. They are spitting images of each other: long brown hair, wide bright eyes and pale pink skin. Phoebe's tiny hands reach out and touch Ana's face, leaning forward and planting slobbery kisses all over Ana's smiling lips. I smile despite how awful I'm feeling.
"Mommy, daddy, you're home!" Teddy shouts in equal excitement.
"Hey bud, did you miss us while we were gone?"
He nods his head, wrapping his arm around my leg and rubbing his cheek against me. He looks up at me with those large grey eyes, smiling, so sweet and innocent. "You didn't wish me goodnight at bedtime." He pouts, his lips turned down in a frown. "Mommy said you were too sleepy."
I feel a swift kick to the gut when I realize that I hadn't called home. The day Teddy was born I made a promise to myself and Ana that I would never go a day without telling the kids good morning and good night regardless of where I was, whether I was stuck in the office or away for business. It was important to me that the kids always knew that I was thinking about them and that I loved them, and that no matter what I would always find the time to let them know. I've made good on that promise… until now. Looking over at Ana, I see her shift uncomfortably with Phoebe in her arms.
"I… I'm so sorry bud. I… must've fallen asleep."
"That's okay. Mommy said you had presents for us?"
And just like that the disappointment in my son's eyes is gone as I nod, though I wish I could say the same for the look in my wife's eyes. I smile, a tight, forced smile. At least I managed to do something right this weekend as I reach over for the bag of gifts we had gotten for the kids earlier in our trip.
After an awkward lunch with both Ana and I trying our best to keep the table conversation going, we got both kids down for a nap. Luckily with Teddy's constant chatter and Phoebe's ongoing babblings, the room was mercifully filled with noise. Now, without the kids acting as buffers, Ana continually scoots out of any room I'm in. She doesn't even try to hide that that's what she is doing; she just leaves anytime I'm in her space, really starting to piss me off.
I spent all night trying to think of a way to make this right. I could apologize until I was blue in the face but Ana wouldn't believe me. It would only be a matter of time until I did it again, a fact that sat uncomfortably with me. I really wanted to be the new man that I had become, not the jealous prick I was so many years ago. Because of this, I knew there was only one way to let Ana know that I was truly sorry and that I could see her side of this and that I did trust her wholeheartedly. My issues with Jose were my issues alone; it was time for me to grow up once and for all.
With our dinner guest arriving soon, Ana was none the wiser as she thought she was getting ready to go out with Kate for the night. Walking down the stairs, she looked beautiful in a green long-sleeve mini-shift dress, her long brown hair loosely curled around her shoulders. I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my lips at what a lovely vision she was. Is. As her foot hit the last step she nearly faltered, and quickly I was next to her just in case.
Wearily, she eyed me suspiciously.
"You're not actually going out to dinner with Kate tonight." I explained, and I could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. "I'm not telling you that you can't!" I quickly interject. "It's just that, that's what I asked Kate to tell you so you'd get dressed up for dinner."
An audible sigh leaves her pursed lips. "Why would you do that? Did you really think I'd be up for dinner after we've spent the better part of the day not speaking to each other? I'm still so angry with you Christian."
"No, I didn't. At least not dinner with me." I tell her truthfully. "I just… I just wanted to make it up to you, apologize but I knew you wouldn't listen to anything I had to say. Rightfully so, but, just please don't be mad. I invited someone over for dinner."
"Christian! Having people over is the last thing that I want." She whimpers, her frustrations quickly building all over again.
"I know, I know! But please, just… this one you'll want to see. I promise." With an irritated sigh, she places her clutch on the kitchen counter.
"Where are the kids?"
"I thought it'd be nice if they had dinner with us."
Again, she looks at me skeptically. But I can see her interest now piqued, much to my amusement.
"I know you hate me right now, but baby please I'm really trying to make things right. Just trust me okay?"
"I trust you, Christian, remember? It's me you don't trust."
The words hang in the air, ugly, yet true. I would just have to prove her wrong and that I did trust her.
As the kids come down the stairs with Gail dressed in their Sunday best for dinner, I smile at how beautiful my family is. They each have a distinct part of Ana in them and I love seeing her in each of our children: the way Teddy talks – articulate and mature, words softly spoken with an endearing confidence to them, and the innocence in Phoebe's adoring eyes, curious about everything around her. Gail helps them get settled on the sofa in the living room as Ana continues to stand uncomfortably in front of me.
Once the doorbell rings I quickly grab Ana's hand and open the door. Before she can even protest I watch as her jaw drops open. Kissing her temple, I smile politely at our guest, moving to the side to let them in.
"Ch-Christian." She gasps, her blue eyes looking up at me in surprise. Never did I think I would ever let this man into my home that I shared with my family. Yet, here we are.
"Evening, Jose." I greet, offering to take his coat. "Welcome to our home. And thank you for agreeing to come to dinner. Truly, I wanted to apologize for last night."
I can't stop my smile as Ana's jaw continues to gape, her surprise mirrored on Jose's.
"Please, come in. Let me introduce you to Teddy and Phoebe."
I was pleasantly surprised with how well dinner went. Once Jose left for the night and we got the kids down for bed, I was happy to find Ana standing in our bedroom, holding a platinum and diamond-bordered picture frame in her hand, a permanent fixture on her nightstand. Without seeing the picture I know which one it is – a picture of our first dance on our wedding night many moons ago, the bedside lamp bouncing off the diamonds, twinkling in the dimmed room.
"Teddy fall asleep okay?" I ask, unbuttoning my shirt. She nods, her gaze fixed on the picture.
"And Phoebe?" She asks.
"Yeah, went down without a fight tonight. Thank god." I smile, though she doesn't see. Nervously, I continue. "Did you have a good time at dinner?"
She nods again, her response minimal. Her usual chattiness of how much she enjoyed something wasn't there, and my good mood quickly took a dive. I really thought that this would have been a good way to show her that I do trust her – to invite a man I've had a long-standing pissing contest with into our family home as a show of good faith, yet… nothing.
"Right." I sigh. A part of me thought that this would have worked and that she wouldn't be mad anymore. Yet again, I was wrong. "I guess I'll just sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight then." Picking out a pair of pajama bottoms and a shirt, I close the drawer slowly, taking in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Ana. I really am. It was never you I didn't trust – it was him. It was me. Never you. I love you and I hope you can forgive me for being such a screw up. I'm really sorry."
The words tumble out helplessly, but I doubt she heard any of it over the pathetic shaking in my voice.
Settling into the guest room leaves me devastated. I feel sick to my stomach that this will be the second night I'm sleeping alone, and the second night that Ana's still angry with me. Though beautifully decorated, the room feels cold. There's nothing in here that reminds me of my family – no drawer top full of pictures of the kids or our families, no stack of books on one of the bedside tables. There's no oversized gliding chair that looks out the bay window in which Ana still sometimes rocks the kids to sleep in when they're up all night. Worst of all, there's no Ana lying next to me, her soft breaths on my cheek as she sleeps soundly next to me.
Unable to relax, I sit on the edge of the bed, head in my hands facing out the window. Now what am I supposed to do?
"A little help here?" The soft voice of my beautiful wife breaks into the deafening silence of the late hour. My head jerks to the door to find her hidden under a pile of pillows, our pillows, and the duvet off of our bed.
"What are you doing?" I ask, grabbing the pile from her and placing them on the bed to reveal my tiny wife behind them. Dressed only in my Harvard t-shirt and a pair of my boxers, her hair piled high onto her head, she blows a stray piece of hair off of her face.
"I don't know why you chose this room, but it has none of our stuff in here." She frowns. "What was wrong with our room?"
I stare at her, completely baffled. I watch as she makes the bed, placing her pillow on her side and my pillow on mine. Her petite frame climbs into the large bed and under the covers, placing the same platinum frame on the bedside table next to her, eyebrows raised at me.
"Well? Are you coming to bed or not?"
"Wh… what?" I continue to stand in confusion, her lips pulling into a sweet smile.
"Bed." She pats the space next to her slowly and definitively. "Are you coming or not? I just carried all this stuff here."
"You're not mad?"
"Should I be?"
"I mean, you're not mad anymore?"
She shrugs, her eyes tired. "I was. I mean… Christian that was really bad. You really hurt me yesterday."
"I know." I whisper hesitantly walking over to the bed.
"I just don't want to be mad at you anymore. I was, and now I'm not. I hate fighting with you. And last night, going to bed angry…" She shakes her head sadly. "Nothing felt worse."
"I know, I couldn't sleep."
"Me either."
Settling into the bed, I search for her hand hidden under all the layers.
"You really make me angry sometimes." She starts, squeezing my hand tightly. "Some days I just want to rip your head off."
I nod.
"And punch you. And hit you with my car." She continues. I continue to nod, fighting the twitch of my lips.
"And I wonder some days how on earth we manage not to kill each other. Or how we've managed to last this long. Sometimes I just want to put a pillow over your face while you sleep."
"Same." I chuckle.
"I'm serious. I've thought about it, really thought about it, that's how angry you make me sometimes." She pauses, making sure I hear her clearly. "I have it down to the details of what time of the night I would do it, and with which pillow. At the end of the day though, you're the only one I could ever imagine falling asleep next to. You're the only person in the entire universe that has my heart Christian Grey, and the only one I would ever put up with this much. No person will ever be able to take that from you – not Jose, not some random Joe off the street. I can't help it if other people talk to me or flirt with me from time to time. What I can control is me, and I would never ever do anything to put the beautiful life we've created together in harms way. Ever. Christian you have to know that."
"I-I do."
"Sometimes I don't think you do."
"I know you feel like we've taken a step back, but honestly, I still feel as in love with you and as crazy about you as I did that first time I met you. So please don't be angry that sometimes I act like I did five years ago; because to me, we're still that Ana and Christian in some ways. I'm still always going to be insanely jealous of anyone that comes near you, of anyone that makes you smile or laugh when I want to be the only one to make you do those things. I want to be the only one to who gets to see your happiness because of something I did. I want all your happiness, as selfish as that is."
"You can't always be there when something makes me happy."
"I know… I just wish I could."
"You are my happiness. You, and those two crazy little monsters are the only ones who will ever truly hold my heart and you need to be okay with that. That has to be enough."
"It is."
"Is it? How do I know that a week from now, a month from now, somewhere down the road you're not going to do the exact same thing again? You humiliated me in so many different ways last night."
"You'll just have to trust me that I've worked out that stuff in my head, and that I'm really going to try harder. It was a surprise to me too Ana, you have to understand that. I'd like to think I've come a long way since that jealous dick you met all those years ago, but last night… I don't know. He just reappeared and I couldn't control my temper."
"A gigantic dick." She corrects.
"Are you talking about mine, or are you calling me one?" I grin cheekily. It's enough to grant me one of her carefree giggles.
"You are terrible. Enough fighting. Don't let it happen again – I mean it Christian. Or I swear to god that I'll rip that gigantic dick off with my bare hands. Understood?"
"Fuck, you're crazy."
"Yes. So be warned."
"I love you. Bat-shit and all."
She smiles, leaning forward to press those soft pink lips onto mine. Nothing feels sweeter. "I'm only crazy because of what you do to me. For better or worse, you're absolutely, one-hundred percent stuck with me."
Pulling her into my arms, she positions herself snugly against my chest. "I'd rather be stuck with you than with anybody else."
"Good. Because I'll be damned if I let some other hussy have what's mine. I can be a jealous dick too you know."
"How big of a dick do you have?"
"Ugh. You're gross."
"My wife has a dick. Oddly enough I'm okay with that."
The sweet sound of her giggles fills the cold room with some much needed warmth, the words 'I love you' murmured against my skin over and over again as we both get settled in the unfamiliar bed. When she pulls off her shirt and shorts and tosses them to the foot of the bed, a throaty moan tumbles out of my lips at the sight of her beautiful creamy skin. But when she tells me no sex tonight, I gasp.
"No, just sleep. It's your fault I didn't sleep all night."
"I can make you un-tired." I start, grazing over her puffy nipple. "Or at least tire you out in a completely different way." I kiss her neck slowly, languid pulls on her flesh. Her moans build gently, but then she pulls away. Sternly, she says no once again.
"Baby, please, be reasonable." I chide.
"N-o. Just cuddles and sleep. Christian I'm so tired."
"What about sex cuddles? I'll do all the work, you just lie there."
"My husband, the romantic."
"Do you really expect me to just lie here and not do anything?"
"Yes. Consider it the last part of your punishment."
"You said you weren't mad."
"I'm not. Anymore." She winks.
And just like that, she turns off the lights, her silky body pressed tightly against mine. She laughs at the short pants of breath leaving my nostrils as I try to get a grip on my mounting arousal, her hand rubbing soothing circles on my chest. "Go to sleep Christian, sweet dreams. I love you. Just think of all the sex we'll have tomorrow when I'm fully energized."
Her teasing grin as her eyes remain closed lets me know just how much she's enjoying her favorite brand of torture on me. I sigh knowing that I won't be getting to feel her soft body twist around me in all my favorite positions tonight, but that come morning, all bets are off. The score will be back to zero, and so help me if she'll be able to walk once I'm done with her.
Squeezing her tight, I feel the slow steady thrum of my heart return to its easy rhythm, content to feel the heat of her body next to mine, her soft breaths warming me from the inside out as she falls asleep. At last, my world is back to normal.
Some things just, some things just make sense
and one of those is you and I.
Some things just, some things just make sense
And even after all this time
I'm into you, baby, not a day goes by
that I'm not into you.
Please leave a review :) Thank you for reading!
And if you haven't done so already, please check out my other work-in-progress, Fifty Shades: Unfinished Love and leave comments there too :) Now that I've returned from a much needed vacation, I hope to find the time to work on more chapters in the upcoming weeks. It's amazing how much more inspired one is when unable to sit in front of a computer. My phone is bursting with little scenes waiting to be written! Thank you once again.