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Christian and Anastasia - FanFiction - Book I

Christian and Anastasia - FanFiction - Book I


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Published by Emine Fougner
This is a FanFiction of 50 Shades from Christian's POV.
This is a FanFiction of 50 Shades from Christian's POV.

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Published by: Emine Fougner on Jul 11, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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I can’t get her face out of my mind. The crushing look she had, and the heartbreak that
was displayed on her face as if she had death in the family. I couldn’t take what I said back. It's

for her own good. She's too innocent. Too sweet. Too deserving of something more than what I
can offer her. But then her presence pulls me to her. I'm torn apart inside with these tornados

of emotions. I just can’t introduce her to my dark world! She deserves better; she needs

someone to sweep her off her feet, go hearts and flowers on her which she clearly desires. But
then the idea of someone else touching her is killing me inside! (Roberta Flack - Killing Me
Softly) I hate this foreign feeling that’s eating me, clawing into my soul. I hate being this way.

I'm short with everyone. Even Taylor who generally has his poker face flinches. I'm too edgy.

It’s been nearly a frigging week. I’m watching her from afar like a teenage boy! She’s

going to school, going to work while I still manage my world from the Heathman Hotel in
Portland. I can direct my company from here until I finish my duty for the graduation

commencement ceremony at WSU where I’m supposed to confer degrees to the graduating
class. Including her… Anastasia. Why can’t I get her out of my mind? What am I a fucking

teenager? Diversion… What I need is diversion. But nothing is appealing to me except her. It’s
like her body calls to me, her sprit, her blood, her being. I can’t fucking escape this feeling! (
Notion by Kings of Leon)

I have to do something to show her I’m interested in her, but I still feel I have to warn
her. She’s into British classics and Hardy she says. I decide to send her Tess of the D’Urbervilles
first edition with a note. I’m sure she’s read it. I want her to stay away, but not stay away. At
least give her a warning. If she rejects me at least, I can maybe move on. Maybe…

I handwrite the note:

Why didn’t you tell me there was danger?
Why didn’t you warn me?

Ladies know what to guard against, because

they read novels that tell them of these tricks…

I order the 1st

edition of the book and have it sent to her house with my warning hoping

she’ll get my warning, but part of me also hopes that she’ll disregard it. I’ve never desired
someone as much, not by any stretch of mind, and I’ve had quite a few women. I scold myself
that I can have my pick of women. Almost any woman! But I don’t want any woman! I want

her! Maybe if I can hold on till her graduation and if I see her then, maybe then I can declare my

hand to her. I’m fucking losing my mind! She's bewitched me body and soul! I don't want to be
away from her!! (← Bruce Springsteen - Witchraft)

It’s Friday night. I had my dinner at my hotel room with my brother Elliot who brought
some clothes for me seeing as I wasn’t intending to stay this long. My phone rings. I look at the
caller ID and it’s her! Anastasia! I answer the phone on the second ring nearly breathless,
surprised but softly I inquire: “Anastasia?”
She doesn’t sound good. Is she ill? I’m immediately alert and attentive to her voice. Her

speech is slurred.

“Grey…” she sounds off key, “why did youuu,” *hiccups* “send me the books?”

I immediately feel concerned. I get in a protective mode because she’s not well. There is
definitely something’s wrong with her!
“Anastasia? Are you alright? You sound off key, strange…”
She giggles and slurs again. “Grey, you’re the strange one, not me!”
She’s drunk!
“Anastasia, have you been drinking?” I ask incredulous.
“None of your business! Why should you be con… con…” she struggles to complete her

sentence, “con.cerned?”
“Just curious. Tell me, where are you?”
She giggles, actually giggles. “In a bar!” she gushes.
“Which one?”
“Uh uh… It’s a bar in Portland.”
“How will you get home Ana?”
“Don’t know,” hiccups, “I’ll find a way”.
“Which bar is it Anastasia?”
“Why the hell did you send me Tess of the D.. Durb… D’Urbervilles books Christian?”
“Anastasia..” I say as calmly as possible as my anger is rising to the boiling point. “Tell
me where you are!” My calmness is laced with anger.
“You are sooo bossy, controlling person man..”
“Where the fuck are you Ana? So help me, I’ll find out one way or the other!”
“Oh so far away from… from.. where you are. Yeah, from Seattle.”
“Ana, please.. Where are you?”
“Goodnight Christian!” and she hangs up! On me!
“TAYLOR!” I yell. My brother looks at me amused. He’s never seen me in pursuit of a
woman, and this is a sight to see for him.

“Yes sir!” he shows up.
“I need you to track Anastasia Steele’s cell phone. Find out her location! Now!”

He’s got his little command center setup already to control a space mission let alone
finding the location of a Miss Anastasia Steele. Few minutes later I have the location. Elliot
opens his mouth to say something and I stop her with one gesture of my hand, and he grins
holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“Taylor! Let’s go!” I say, and Elliot also grabs his jacket, sidling along. I look at him
pointedly. He says grinning, “Hey bro! I always thought you were gay! This I gotta see!” I clench

my teeth, but let him come along.

“Yes sir.” We speed through the night from Heathman’s to the bar. I call Ana back with

satisfaction as we speed through the night.

“Hi?” she answers scared. That’s right! You need to be scared.
“I’m coming to get you!” I hang up brewing.
It’s not too far from where I’m staying, and we make it within ten minutes of me

hanging up. I am able to locate her in front of the bar where the photographer is making his
advances on her while she’s feebly trying to push him away. I want to hit the living daylights out
of the fucker! Elliot is with me.

“Go find her roommate. Cute, strawberry blonde. She answers to the name Kate


“Cute and blonde? With pleasure!” he grins and smoothly walks into the bar.
“I believe the lady said No!” I hiss through my teeth as I emerge from the darkness. It’s

taking all my self-control not to jump at him, and beat the crap out of him. He lets go of her.

“Grey,” he says tersely.

As if on cue Anastasia doubles over and hurls the contents of her stomach on the
concrete patio splashing the fucker who jumps back muttering something in Spanish. She’s
barely able to stand up. I rush to steady her head while holding her hair back. I pull her to the
flower bed where she can do less splashing while clearing out the content of her stomach in the
relative darkness.

“If you’re going to throw up, do it here.” I say. She pukes for a long while and even after

the entire content of her stomach is gone, she continues to dry heave. I hand her my
handkerchief. She takes it embarrassed, while her fucking attacker hangs by the door like a cat

that spilled his milk. He mutters her he’ll see her inside, and walks away! Walks away! What
kind of friends first forces his hand on his friend and then leaves her with a complete stranger
to be cared for? Ana is three sheets to the wind, but she manages to say “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for Anastasia?” I ask. This better be good.
“Oh, you want the list? The phone call… Throwing up… but mostly for the phone call,”

she looks chagrined looking down at her hands.

“We’ve all been here one time or another, but perhaps not quite as badly as you are,”
she looks as if I slapped her. But I push on, “Do you make a habit of pushing your limits in this
manner? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for pushing limits, but not in this matter.”
She’s mad at me and defiant.
“I’ve never been drunk before, and,” holding her head trying to steady herself she adds,
“I’ve no intention of being one again.” She staggers, and I grab and hold her close to my chest

now the danger of her hurling passed.

“Come, I’ll take you home,” I say.
“How did you find me anyway?” she asks petulantly.
“I tracked your phone.”

She looks at me with an expression that says confused, and amused at the same time.

“I have to get my purse and jacket.” She says. She also wants to tell her roommate of

her leaving. I tell her that my brother Elliot is inside and dancing with Kate. She looks surprised

but she wants to go in. I usher her back into the bar, but I don’t want her to get sick any more

than she already is. So I take her to the bar, and get myself a drink and get her a large glass of
ice water. I make her drink it. All of it. I can see that her glare says “you’re bossy!” and I find
that kind of erotic. She stands up to me even with her glare. Once she’s done drinking her
water, I pull her to me, inhale her heady personal scent that is vanilla, clean soap, and
outdoors. Somehow with her personal scent this becomes an intoxicating concoction. I have a
hard time keeping my hands off of her. I lead her into the dance floor swinging, and we reach

my brother Elliot and Anastasia’s roommate Kate who is like white on rice on my brother
dancing their butts off and having a good time. Ana tells her I’m taking her home. She waves us

goodbye grinning. As I try support Ana out of the bar and the noise, she starts swaying, and

before I know it, it’s out of my mouth: “Fuck!”

She’s on the floor headlong. This is the third time. Will I always be picking her off the
floor? Somehow even the thought of it is endearing though I hate seeing her fall and get hurt. I
pick her up and carry her in my arms, and hoist her into the Audi SUV. Taylor drives us to the
hotel. I carry her to my suite in my arms like the most precious cargo, like a child. I gaze at her
beautiful face. She’s so captivating. I just want to run my fingers through her hair and face, and
feel and gaze at her. When I enter my suite I take her to my bedroom. I'm bewitched by this
innocent girl. Completely taken. She's here in my bed, and I'm completely helpless against
her. Against this sleeping beauty. (Bewitched by Ella Fitzgerald)

I dismiss Taylor by saying “That’s all Taylor!”
“Goodnight sir,” and went back to his room.
I lay Anastasia after pulling the duvet cover up. I stared at her for minutes, hours I don’t
know. I couldn’t get my eyes off of her my breath hitching at her peaceful look.

I kneel on the floor and untie the laces of her Converse shoes. I pull them off her feet.
Then I pull the socks off. I then unzip her jeans and pull them off her revealing her flawless long
legs. I pull the duvet over her; sit in the chair watch her lay in the infant position breathing
slowly. It gives me an enormous amount of peace I have not felt in a long time. I just want to

crawl next to her, and hold her all night. I’ve never had someone next to me in bed… to sleep
with. Here’s a first. I strip off my pants and shirt. I pull a t-shirt on, and turn the side table light
off. First time in my life, I sleep a peaceful sleep without any nightmares of the crack whore
who was my mother or her pimp. I dream of Anastasia. ( Dream On by Aerosmith)

Being a morning person that I am, I wake up early after what felt like the most restful
night next to beautiful Anastasia. I could watch her for hours, but I need to work out to get rid
of this sexual draw towards her. I put my workout sweats on. I leave by the bedside table a
glass of orange juice to give her a shot of vitamins and two pills Advil to get rid of her hangover.

I work out hard, sweat pours out of me. After what feels like an eternity, I get back to my suite,
and knock on my bedroom door before entering to not to make her feel uncomfortable. She’s
awake, and her eyes watch and trail me. As her eyes linger on the sweat stains of my workout
pants, her breath hitches, and that reaction does something to me, and I feel myself harden.

“Good morning Anastasia,” I say, “How do you feel?”
“Better than I deserve,” she whispers shyly, then looks up at me with her bright blue
eyes. As I take the towel off my neck she gazes at me intently and asks “How did I get here?”
I go to the edge of the bed and sit. I’m close enough to touch her, but I won’t. I don’t
want to tell her that I wanted to gaze at her all night trying to decide if she’s what I want. I opt

for a lighter explanation.

“Since you managed to soil the bar’s vicinity, I didn’t want to take a risk with the car’s
leather seats. I brought you here instead. It was closer,” I say passively.

She bites her lip hitching my breath, “Did you put me to bed?”
“Yes,” I say with my poker face.
“And undressed me?” she says in a barely audible whisper chewing that lip again.
“Yes,” gazing at her lips.

“And, did we… uhm?” she arched her eye brows, and turned red before lowering her


“No Anastasia. You were completely passed out. I don’t do necrophilia. I prefer my
women completely receptive, and aware,” I say dryly.
She turns red as recognition goes through her face. That’s right. I’m very straight!
“But it was a very interesting experience to have you in my bed.”
“You slept next to me?”
“It is my bed,” I said wryly. “It was treat and one I won’t forget for some time,” I say. For

a long time...

She questions me on my stalking tendencies as she calls it. Though she sounds chiding,

she looks pleased.

“You should be happy I stalked you, because instead of here, you would have woken up
next to the photographer who was pressing his suit on you last night, in fact rather forcefully,” I
say remembering, none too pleased, and my anger rising again towards the fucker.
“You sound like a courtly knight,” she says. Her incorrect observation throws me off, and
brings me back to my worries. How little you know me. There’s nothing light about me baby.
It’s all dark and fucked up.

“Anastasia, there’s nothing light about me,” I say, “maybe a dark knight.” She looks
disbelieving. I give her a bitter smile. It’s too early to talk about my dark soul, or the lack of it
thereof. I change the subject.

“Did you eat last night?” I question her. She shakes her head in the negative. I’m


“Anastasia, that was why you got violently ill last night! You must always eat, especially
if you intend to drink!” I scold her exasperated. She flinches back, but replies.
“Will you keep scolding me this morning?”
“Am I scolding you?”
“You sure sound like it,” she says petulantly.
Good, I think my palms are twitching. “Be glad that’s all I’m doing. Had you been mine,
you wouldn’t be able to sit on your behind for a week after what you did yesterday!”

“What did I do?” she scowls back. “What’s it to you anyway? Who asked you to swoop

in and save me?”

Her answer oddly feels hurtful, yet another feeling I’m not familiar with.
“You behaved badly. You didn’t eat, you drank excessively, and got sick, and would have
even been raped by what you call your friend. You put yourself in a position to get hurt!”
She lowers her gaze again chagrined. “Jose is my friend, he wouldn’t have hurt me.
Maybe he just got out of line with too much to drink.”
“Maybe he should be thought some manners!” I barely contain myself. Maybe I should

teach him a lesson he’s never going to forget! She looks up at me and locks her gaze with me.

“You are quite the disciplinarian Mr. Grey!” she spurts out. Baby, you have no idea! I


“Oh Ana, if you only knew how much!” My grin gets wider. Sometimes she sees right
through me. I get up and walk towards the bathroom. “I’m going to shower right now, unless
you want to go first...” I ask questioning. She gasps and holds her breath. My body responds to

it like metal to magnet. I walk towards her and gently thug her lower lip out of the grasp of her
teeth. My thumb grazes over her lower lip as the jolt of current passes on between us in a
constant flow. I want to take her down and have my way with her right here, right now!

Instead I say, “Breathe baby!” and release her face. I feel her gaze glued behind me as I
move to the bathroom. I’m hooked.

I shower as quickly as I can as to not to miss a minute with her. I take the speediest
shower in my personal history, and come out coolly with a towel wrapped on my waist. She’s
out of bed, looking around. Her jaw drops as she sees me, but then again, so does mine to see
her so close to naked. One innocent, breath taking woman who is so unaware of her own
beauty. She stills in her place. I tell her that her jeans were soiled with her vomit, and point to
the clean clothes I had Taylor purchase for her this morning. Her eyes brighten, and eyes me

trying to hide her gaze, she mutters “I’ll take… uhm.. that shower now.” And walks into the


I dress in my pants and white linen shirt. I take my morning paper to read at the table
while waiting for the food to arrive. Ten minutes later there is a knock on the door. Room

service. I let the waiter bring the food on the dining table. After sending him off, I go to the

bathroom door and knock letting Anastasia know that the food is here. She stutters an “okay,”
making me smile. She’s very unease around men. Very inexperienced. Somehow this makes me

pleased. When she comes out she looks breathtaking, innocent, but makes me frown when I
see her hair damp. I have this protective urge to keep her safe even from herself.

“You haven’t dried your hair!” I scold her.
“I didn’t see the hair dryer,” she mutters. I narrow my eyes. She’s not mine… She’s not
mine… She’s not mine… I chide myself. Not yet.. But I’d like her to be.
“You look astounding in that color,” I find myself saying unable to take my gaze off of

her. She blushes.

“Thank you for the clothes Christian,” she says biting that lip again. “I should pay you for


I frown. I don’t want to be paid for them! I can afford them. I feel like I should take care

of her.

“You should learn to graciously accept gifts Ana,” I tell her firmly.
“I can’t, see, you’ve given me some very expensive books,” she says, quickly adding,
“which intend to return of course, but clothes, I don’t know. I should pay for them. I know I
can’t afford to pay for the books,” she trails off, “but I can pay for the clothes.”
“I can afford them Anastasia! You don’t need to pay for them,” I say to this stubborn

beautiful girl before me.

“I know you can Christian. That’s not the point. I’d feel better if I did, that’s all,” she

looks at her fingers as if some answers are written on them. She then raises her gaze at me and
asks, “why did you give me those books Christian?”

I close my eyes briefly, and exhale. When I open them back again, I say, “because I felt
that you needed a warning. When I was holding you, you looked at me begging me to kiss
you, and,” I said running my hands through my hair in a nervous gesture. I felt a loss for words
first time in a long time, but gather my thoughts and continue “and, look, I’m not the hearts
and flowers kind of guy. I don’t do that. My tastes are very singular. You should stay away

from me if you know what is good for you. Although God knows, I can’t stay away from
you…” I look at her hoping she wouldn’t stay away, and hoping she would with a confused mess
of emotions. I close my eyes to sort this damned feeling out. I’m not good at feelings, and if I
knew what’s good for me, I would steer clear of her as well! Her proximity is bewitching,
beguiling, drawing me like an undercurrent I can’t escape. Like a moth to the flame. Like her
soul is calling to mine like it’s lost half seeking to merge. Even when I close my eyes, I feel her.
She whispers, “Then don’t stay away from me…”
I feel I owe her the protection from my fifty shades of fuckeduppedness; I don’t want to
see her hurt. She’s too innocent. Like none I’ve met, and I’ve met quite a few. I close my eyes


“Anastasia you don’t know what you’re asking for!”
“Tell me then!” she urges me.
“I guess that means you’re not celibate,” she whispers. That brings me out of my

reveries, my eyes darken with passion for her, and desire heightens. I give her a salacious smile.

“No, Anastasia,” I say amused, “I’m NOT celibate.”
“Oh!” she whispers her breath catches with desire and I can hear her heartbeat like the

fluttering wings of a hummingbird trying to escape her chest. That does things to my body,
boiling my blood. I just can’t let her go now. Come hell or high water. I have to try! I make my

“What are your plans for the next few days Ana?” I ask my eyes dark with desire.

She tells me she is working today after midday.
“How about tomorrow?” I ask leaning forward.
“I’m working all week, and Kate and I are supposed to be packing because we’re moving

to Seattle.”

“Do you have a place yet?”
“Yes, someplace in Pike Market District.” I smile pleased. She’s going to be very close to


“I’ve applied for internships and I’m waiting to hear from them.”
“Have your applied to my company?” I ask.

“No, I haven’t,” she stutters.
“What’s the matter with my company?” I think out loud.
She grins, “your company, or Your Company?” God, I like her! She has a smart mouth,
but unlike anyone I’ve met before. It’s a breath of fresh air. She’s not afraid of speaking her

mind to me.

“Are you smirking at me Anastasia?” I ask her wanton. She catches her breath and bites
her lip. I just take it anymore, “God! I like to bite that lip!” I growl. Her mouth opens as she
gasps with desire, squirming. I like her response. I bet she’s wet all the way. The thought makes
me desirous but not as much as what she challenges me to do next, “Why don’t you then?”
I make up my mind. I can’t stay away from her, but she still needs to know my terms.
“Because I will not touch you until I have your written consent Anastasia,” I say smiling.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s pretty literal. I need your written consent before I touch you. I have to show you.
When do you finish with work Anastasia?” I ask. She replies “eight.” I tell her that I could take

her to Seattle this evening to enlighten her.

“Why can’t you tell me now?” she asks.
“Because I’m enjoying your company and I don’t want you to run to the hills, just yet.”

She looks puzzled as I expected she would be. A lot of emotions pass through her face, but
finally she looks resolute.

“Okay,” she says determined.

I arrange for a standby pilot for Charlie Tango as I have a feeling she may not agree to
what I have in mind for her in which case she may want to come back home, and to my
disappointment, this would be the end of our brief encounter. But I am really hoping that it’s

“You’re very bossy,” she observes after I hang up the phone. How right she is! Yet she
still doesn’t have any idea how much more bossy I can be. No idea at all!
She’s unable to finish her food, whether it’s from nervousness, or excitement, but I still
have a hard time with wasted food, and I tell her to eat it. I can’t help it! Doesn’t she know that

there are people who are going hungry every day?

When we’re finished eating, she heads to the bathroom to wash-up. She emerges while
I’m on the phone. I hang up in a few minutes, and I take her hand to walk out. There’s
something about her that is drawing me to her. When she’s near me I can feel the air crackling.

I impatiently press the elevator call button. In a minute or two it dings open. We enter into the
elevator, and the air is even more electric and current is pulsing between us. She feels it too.
Bites her lip. Our gazes lock, moth to the flame. Passion flames knotting my insides, I feel myself

“Oh! Fuck the paperwork!” (Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon) I growl, and lunge at her,
pushing her to the elevator wall gripping her hands above her head with one hand, I steady her
with my body pressing her to the wall, and fix her head with my other hand as my mouth
explores hers. What a sweet exploration that is! She moans into my mouth, as our tongues start
a tango of their own, dancing and exploring, and kissing. She wants me and I want her!
“You. Are. The. Sweetest. Thing. I’ve. Ever. Met!” (← Feeling Good by Michael Buble) I
find myself enunciating. I lost my sense enough to fuck her in the elevator when it suddenly
dings and stops on one of the floors letting three businessmen in. We spring apart, as I don my
poker face while she looks disheveled and desirous still. I eye her from my peripheral vision
while slowly exhaling this pent up sexual energy. The businessmen grin as we exit the elevator

on the first floor as I grab her hand, and mutter to myself, “What is it with the elevators!”

She used my toothbrush as her mouth tasted minty fresh, and she smiled in the
affirmative when I asked her about it. She’s one of a kind. We exit the hotel. I’m putty in her
hands. Only if she knew. All of a sudden I feel elated with her next to me. I am only 27, and for
the first time with Anastasia, I feel young. We are young! (We are young by Some Nights ft.
Janelle Monae)

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