The Life of Mrs. Fifty Shades | Chapter 3

A manuscript appeared on my desk that morning from an author I’d never heard of before. A yellow sticky note was placed on the top and it read, “Read this.” There was no explanation of whom it was from.

But after the first few pages, I was hooked.

I ignored my emails and phone calls and kept reading. I faced the large floor-to-ceiling window and flipped through every single page. I started to lick my fingertips before every swipe because they were getting dry.

But that didn’t stop me.

Raindrops started to sprinkle across the window. Light tapping noises filled my ear, the sound I was used to hearing almost every day in Seattle. It brought me a strange sense of comfort—and it also made me think of my husband.

My assistant, Angelica, stepped into my office. “Mrs. Grey. Mr. Grey is on hold for you. He said he tried calling your direct line a few times but there was no answer…” Her voice trailed away with a tone of dread.

“Please call me Ana.” This wasn’t the first time I had to remind her.

“Of course.” She walked out.

I set the heavy manuscript on the table before I took the call. His anger pulsed through the phone before I even picked up the receiver. “Ana.” I blurted out the name on instinct, so focused on Christian’s reaction I didn’t think about it.

It soured his already dark mood. “Not Ana. Mrs. Grey.”

I pressed my lips tightly together and stopped myself from biting my bottom lip. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.”

“And you’ve finally succeeded.”

Even in his silence, he was terrifying. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“I put it on silent.”

He was going to spank me the second I got home. I knew it. “And why did you think that was a good idea?”

“I was in the middle of something very important.”

“Really?” he said coldly. “You didn’t respond to any of my emails, so I know you weren’t on your computer today.”

“Maybe I was, and I chose to ignore your emails.”

His breath came out as a threat. “Mrs. Grey, tread carefully.”

I’d given myself to this man—completely. But there were a few things I refused to sacrifice. And the first thing was my freedom. “Since you’ve been trying to get a hold of me for so long, you must have something important to say. So what is it?”

Silence.

I knew it. “As I suspected.”

Christian didn’t take the defeat lightly. “I’m your master. I don’t need a reason to call you. And when I do, you better answer.”

“Right now, you’re just my husband. We aren’t in the playroom.”

“We weren’t in the playroom last night either.” The warning remained in his voice. “And I’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week, Ana. Come prepared.”

“I always do. Goodbye, Christian.” Before I hung up, his voice came over the phone.

“What has stolen your focus so much today?”

He wanted to prolong the conversation. He probably had something he wanted to say. “I received a phenomenal manuscript today. I haven’t finished it yet, but I don’t think I need to.”

“That’s good news.”

“It is.” I waited for him to spit out whatever he wanted to say.

He finally got to the point. “Pam called. The house is ours.”

“So you did call for a reason.” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice.

Christian was quiet for nearly a minute. I pictured him sitting in his office, the toy plane still on his desk. He wore the crisp gray suit he left the house in. His grey eyes matched the clouds right outside the window. “Mrs. Grey, I always call for a reason.”

***

“Did you put this on my desk?” I held up the manuscript so my assistant could read the title. The sticky note was still there with rush words written across the surface. It didn’t look like her handwriting, but perhaps she was in a hurry.

“No, Ana. I can try to find out who did.”

If they didn’t sign their name, perhaps they didn’t want me to know. “It’s okay. I’d like to arrange a meeting with Mr…” I opened the front page to find the name. “Colton. I’m interested in publishing his work.”

“Of course. Anything else?” She gathered the thick manuscript in her hands. “Tea?”

I’d had enough tea for the day. “No, thank you.”

She nodded before she walked out.

I eyed the clock on my computer and knew it was time for me to head home. Taylor would walk into my office at any moment to retrieve me. Instead of being at My Fifty’s beck and call, he usually lingered in my proximity. I couldn’t even go to lunch without him knowing about it.

Right on cue, Taylor walked inside. “Hello, Mrs. Grey. Are you finished for the day?”

“Call me Ana.” I couldn’t count the number of times I’d made the request. He never called me by anything except Mrs. Grey. I suspected Christian had ordered him to address me as such—or lose his job.

“Are you ready?” he repeated.

“I think so.” I packed my things and walked out with him, escorted through the building with a bodyguard that carried a weapon. The security detail was unnecessary. But Christian didn’t agree.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Good.” I told him about the manuscript I found. It was a diamond in the rough. A lot of good things came across my desk, but very rarely did something truly remarkable fall in my lap. The sentences were tied together through beautiful craftsmanship. The words weren’t just words. They were little bits of poetry.

We got into the town car, and Taylor drove me home. Christian was probably at the house or with his trainer. He needed regular exercise and sex to keep his cool indifference. Without it, the rage burned under his skin.

When Taylor made a different turn, I knew we weren’t headed back to the house. “Where are we going?”

“Mr. Grey asked me to take you to the apartment.”

And he wasn’t going to tell me about this? “Why am I the last to know?”

“Just following orders, Mrs. Grey.”

“Well, I’m his other half. I think I should have some say.”

Taylor pulled into the underground parking garage and parked his car in the designated spot.

I already lost the battle. “The children?”

“Mrs. Jones has them at the house.”

I knew what this was. Christian wasn’t pleased with our previous conversation. He hated it when I defied him. But he loved it at the same time—even if he wouldn’t admit it.

Taylor escorted me into the elevator and pressed the button before he quickly stepped out. “Have a good evening, Mrs. Grey.”

“Will you ever call me Ana?”

He gave me a cold expression until the doors closed and hid his face from view.

That was a firm no.

***

The sound of the piano came into my ears the moment the doors opened. The melody was sad and heartbreaking, telling the tale of a million deaths in a single night. His sour mood carried through the music, hanging heavy in the air like humid drops of rain.

I walked into the living room and saw him sitting at the black piano. It was a singular hobby that he got lost in. It was the one soothing activity he allowed himself. Everything else was nice helicopters, planes, and fast cars. His music was the gateway to his soul.

It was the gateway to his therapy.

I walked to the piano and stood beside him. He was shirtless, wearing only his slacks and shoes. His head was bowed toward the keys as he played. His slender fingers moved over them gracefully, hitting the right notes at the exact moment they were expected. The result was a beautiful sound that couldn’t be described.

“Beautiful.” My hand moved into his hair. His flinch was slight but evident nonetheless. He allowed me to touch him, but some nights were more difficult than others. I felt the soft strands with my fingertips before I pulled them away.

He continued to play like there was never any interruption.

I sat on the bench beside him and rested my cheek against his shoulder. I felt his muscles every time he moved his arm. They tensed with his obvious strength then relaxed as his fingers continued to glide.

I got lost in my daydreams, listening to music so heartbreaking it was comforting. Sitting together like that reminded me of the beginning of our relationship. He wanted me to be his submissive—and nothing more.

But I married him instead.

He took my virginity in a violent way, but somehow it was gentle. He took me to a place I’d never been. He took things from me I’d never given to anyone else. He owned me from the first moment we looked at one another.

And nothing was ever the same.

He ended the song but the music echoed indefinitely. I could hear it play in my ears, stuck in my head like a catchy tune. I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes, seeing the darkness deepen. It was very rare for it just to be him and me. We had two beautiful children that we loved and they ruled our lives. There wasn’t always time for just us.

I suspected he struggled with it.

Like a spider, he was recluse. He preferred his solitude, his silence. Only when he was alone did he have moments of brilliance and revelation. I hated it when he pulled away, but I understood he needed the space to stay sane. It was nothing personal—just a coping mechanism.

“On your knees.” The warning came from nowhere. He became my Dom and I was his submissive. The command radiated in his voice like a war chief.

Our apartment was reserved for the darkness we both embraced. Neither one of our children ever came here—except on rare occasions. We couldn’t mix our exotic pleasure with the vanilla sex we had at home. A line had been drawn in the sand, and we never crossed it.

His cold eyes were on me, and he dared me to defy him.

I moved to my knees on the floor, my head bowed just as it should be. I didn’t look at him, my eyes glued to the pristine mahogany floor. My breathing came out slow and deep, anticipating his next command.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

He stayed at the piano and turned back to the keys. “You pissed me off today, Ana.”

Did I piss him off in the hope I would be punished? I wasn’t sure anymore.

“When I call, you answer. When we speak, you don’t question me.”

I didn’t look at him.

“Mrs. Grey.  You. Are. Mine.” He rose to his feet unexpectedly. He towered over me, his long and toned legs in my peripheral vision. “Are you mine?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What did you say?” he whispered.

I spoke louder. “Yes. Sir.”

He undid his trousers and pulled his belt from the loops. The metal rattled with his movement, and he bent the belt in half, prepared to strike me with the bite of the leather.

My pulse quickened. I could feel it in both of my wrists. My breathing grew deeper. My nipples hardened in desire, and warmth burned between my legs.

He sat at the edge of the bench with his feet planted on the floor. “Up.”

I rose to my feet, still not looking at him.

“Across my knee.” He commanded me with his expression, his look callous.

I crawled across his knee, my ass in the air.

He lifted my dress to my back and yanked my thong down. His anxious fingers worked the material quickly, grazing my thigh until they reached the curve of my ass. He gently palmed the area, his breathing quick with excitement. “I’m going to spank you three times, Anastasia.”

I feared the pain but anticipated the pleasure. I wanted the familiar bite of the leather. I hadn’t felt it in so long. But I craved his satisfaction most of all. Every time he slapped the belt across my cheeks, he growled in pleasure. His cock became rock-hard, and he could barely keep it in his pants. That kind of arousal heightened my own.

He raised the belt and took a deep breath. He slammed the leather across both cheeks, making a slapping sound the second it hit my pale skin. The leather bit into me, making me call out involuntarily. The pain burned into my skin. I could feel the welt instantly.

Christian struck me again, the leather burning my tender flesh.

I whimpered at the collision. My skin sizzled from the fire. I couldn’t keep my scream back. The second spank hurt more than the first—but there was so much more pleasure out of it.

He could barely contain himself. He panted and gripped me tightly, the arousal pumping hard in his veins. His chest rose and fell with deepened breaths. “Fuck. Ana.” He slammed the belt down a third time, hitting me with more force than the first two strikes.

I screamed again.

He dropped the belt on the floor and gently ran his hand up my ass. “You like to be punished, don’t you?  You enjoy my pain, Mrs. Grey.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the welted skin. “And I love punishing you.”

He dragged me to my feet then lifted me in his arms. His feet carried me to the playroom just down the hall. He set me down before he pulled the key out of his pocket. Once the door was unlocked and open, we stepped inside.

Cable ties hung from the ceiling, assorted whips and chains were arranged by size, and the large bed remained in the corner where it’d always been. So many toys and restraints. We’d already tried most of them.

Christian took me to the center of the room and raised my hands above my head. He secured leather straps around my wrists aggressively, treating me like the submissive that I was.

I didn’t look at him.

He suddenly grabbed my hair and yanked my head back forcefully and pressed a kiss to my earlobe. His teeth nibbled on it, giving me a warning without words. Suddenly, he let me go and pulled on the lever, suspending me from the ceiling. “Do you want me to punish you, Ana?”

“Yes, Sir.” My response was always the same.

“I do too. But it’ll have to wait. Because I need to fuck you right now.” He dropped his pants and boxers to the floor the moved underneath me. He wrapped my legs around his waist then shoved himself inside me with one fluid motion. His thick cock separated me instantly, nearly ripping me in two.

But it felt so good.

“Mrs. Grey.” He pumped into me hard right from the beginning, fucking me like the plaything that I was. The welts on my ass still burned, but that agony somehow heightened the experience.

I moaned as we moved together, my arms still secured above my head. Christian purposely used the straps that chafed against my skin. If this went on for too long, I would have a mark.

But I’m sure he wanted that.

He grunted as he thrust into me, enjoying my slickness with his throbbing cock. “Fuck, Ana.” He crushed his mouth to mine and gave me a kiss so hard it actually bruised me. He claimed me with everything he had, making me his all over again.

“Christian.” Because I rarely said his name, when I did, it registered on his brain in a different way. No one else referred to him that way—except the people he was closest to.

He pounded into me harder, his pelvic bone running against my clitoris. The stimulation there was overwhelming. My body tightened in preparation for the ecstasy that was about to shake me.

Christian could feel it. He could always feel it. “Come for me.”

Like a good submissive, I complied. I burst into a raging fire all around him, lathering his dick with my wetness. I moaned into his mouth as I felt the world crumble around me. The bruise on my ass and wrists just heightened my pleasure, bringing me an orgasm that rivaled all the ones prior—and the ones I hadn’t felt yet.

He looked into my eyes before he hit his trigger. The second he felt me wind down, he inserted himself completely inside me before he released. He gave me every single drop of his seed, wanting me to carry it for as long as I could. He claimed me in the most carnal way possible—and he would never let me forget I was his. “Don’t pull that shit on me again, Ana. I mean it.”

As his submissive, I had to comply, even if I didn’t mean it. “Yes, Sir.”

He was satisfied with that answer but not satisfied with me. He kissed me for a few moments before his cock hardened all over again. And he took me rougher than he had the previous time.


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