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My Little Lost Christian	By : TheScientist Category: A through F > Fifty Shades Trilogy Views: 7482 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Fifty Shades Of Grey or any of the characters from it. I am not making any money from the writing if this story.

Chapter List
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I slowly pad into the bathroom, still gently massaging my stinging hips but feeling very little sympathy for myself. My insides are churning and for a moment I wonder if I might need to stop and heave into the toilet. I choke back the taste of bile and nervously approach the walk in shower. This bathroom is ridiculously extravagant even for my taste. The marble floor is slick beneath my feet as the bathroom swells with humidity. His shower must be scalding him. I tiptoe into the walk in entrance of the cavernous shower and stand behind him, sure that the rush of water over his ears is disguising my entrance. I admire the water teaming and cascading down his immaculate body. His slightly tanned skin, his muscular back and shoulders. I watch the water run down his legs and whirlpool around his feet. The slightly pink tinge in the water is like a Van Gogh in circles between his bare feet and it snaps me from my focus on his form. The redness in his hips is diminishing but the evidence of my most grievous offense still stays.
I step closer to him, residual spray beginning to dampen me. I take a step so that only a sliver of air separates us and I can tell by the slight change in his posture that he knows I'm there. He lifts his head from his hanging position but doesn't raise his arms to smooth the damp tendrils that drip onto his face. We stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity but is probably only ten seconds. I gently, painfully slowly reach a hand forward and place it carefully and squarely into his lower back. I hold my palm there lazily, my thumb rubbing his back. I feel him uneasily inhale and exhale before sighing slowly. He cocks his head to the right, his profile partially visible to me now, water beading and dripping from his hair...his nose...his parted lips.
"Mistress..." He whispers hesitantly and as it echoes off the marble walls I know he is unsure about speaking.
"Don't..."
I stop him, unsure why, but sure I don't deserve his reverence right now. He swallows hard. I use the hand on his back to gently turn him until he is facing me. He glides easily around on his heels until we are face to face. I step slightly towards him until we are both bathed in the warmth of the water. He gazes at me, wholly unsure of what might happen next. His eyes are steeled with some kind of resolve I don't understand. We stare at each other with only steam and questions between us and I see him start to lower his stance. He's moving to kneel before me in the shower and the sob I've choked back since regaining my sanity while inside him releases.
"Christian, no. Please, no."
He straightens immediately, confused as all hell as I sob outwardly. My words managing to barely escape before I heave a loud cry that startles up both. I almost lose my footing and he reaches for me...his hands find my hips and steady me and I instinctively place my arms on his forearms to brace myself. I break my stare and watch the water swimming beneath us as my tears come. He says nothing. What could he say. His hands are still securely on my hips and my body shakes under his grasp. In all the years of talking - about school, our friendship, his past, my Linc - I have never let him see me cry. But now the floodgates are open and there is no stopping them.
I can see in my periforal vision that my cheeks have stained black from the copious amount of mascara I had applied. Adding to my shame and my haggard appearance. He takes an unsure step towards me, closing the space that comes between us.
"Hush" he whispers gently. His voice changed, deeper and gentle while managing to be authoritative. It's a heady combination and I heed it. Stifling a whimper and catching my breath. I raise my eyes to him...painfully slowly...until we are back in each other's gaze. His grey orbs sad and confused and questioning. And I can only imagine what mine look like. He releases a hip and quizzically raises his hand to my face. This is foreign territory for us. He cups the side of my face and sweeps a thumb under my eye, wiping the moisture and the smear of black that tarnishes my cheek. I hitch again and then steady my breath with resolve I know I need.
"Baby..." I manage through a weak squeal, "I'm letting you go."
Christian's hand drops almost immediately from my cheek as his brow furrows. The water still beading over his face as he takes a step back. Not the reaction I was expecting. I imagined him bolting from the shower, grabbing a towel and heading half naked to hail a cab to escape me as fast as possible. Not to look, is it even possible, more wounded?! He is trying to speak and fighting to find the words. Finally his mouth forms the way he is willing it to.
"I...I did what you asked? Gave you what you wanted? Didn't I? You're still mad with me?"
His timid questions break my heart as I realize now that he is so under my thumb that even letting him go will feel like an insult. I take his face in both of my hands.
"All I wanted was to save you. From the moment I saw you. I wanted to save you. And look what I've done to you. I've made you worse..."
I stop as I realize the sting in my words and try to rethink my tack. I can't belittle him or give him the chance to do it himself.
"No...not worse. You're so strong, Christian. You don't need me. You never did. I'm fucked up. I wanted you to be as fucked up as I am. I didn't know how to save you but I couldn't live with not trying."
I don't know if my words make sense. They are just flowing out of me like the water over our exhausted bodies.
"I'm sorry. Christian...I am so so sorry."
He let's my apology hang in the thick, hot air. Unsure of how to respond. He watches my face and I can tell that something in his frame has changed, although I don't know just what.
"Why are you leaving Harvard?"
I decide that in this atmosphere where honesty seems to float, I might as well clear all the air. He raises an eyebrow and then looks down at his hands. Without thinking I take them in my own and twist our fingers together. New.
"No, Christian. Look at me." He raises his eyes and stares into mine as if he is searching them for the right answer.
"Lots of reasons. But mostly because I just don't need this shit."
"What shit?" I push him further.
"All of this shit. I know what I want. I don't need a diploma to do any of it."
I swallow hard, listening to the determination in his voice. I know that "all this shit" is a coal mine's depth of things he is keeping from me and I have to make the impulsive decision to push him or let it pass. I think of the events of earlier that night. Seeing the slim brunette leave his apartment as I watched from my darkened car. I had seen her before...met her even when I replaced Carrick as Grace's date to a Harvard function in which Christian and this attractive friend of his were presented to a group of donors as the finest students in the economics department. My jealousy of her was still ripe. I decide...why not.
"Nora..." I offer chastely, choosing not to refer to her as 'his little slut' as I had done earlier in the evening after catching him with her. "...is she part of the shit?"
Christian's eyes darken. I study his face and notice it has begun to cover in subtle growth, as if he has aged before my eyes. He is choosing his words carefully, I wager. He looks away from me and toward the shower wall as if he is searching it for the right answer. His face is pained.
"She's part of the unnecessary complications."
There's a hesitance in his voice I try to search. I'm unsuccessful. His eyes still scan the wall and I know she is still on his mind.
"You're afraid..." I start, his head slowly turning back to face me as if to challenge the fact that anything could scare him. It's a valid point. He cocks an eyebrow in a manner I would find seductive if I didn't know better. "You've been keeping her at arm's distance for my sake. Following my instructions. Afraid of what I'd do..."
"Afraid of what I'd do." He interrupts me and my thoughts, both screeching to a halt at his deft interference. I see the familiar darkness in his eyes, only now he seems to own it. Embrace it even.
He turns slightly from me and adjusts the long handle until the water shuts off and the new silence is almost deafening. He turns back to me and offers a hint of a forced smile. I reach my arms around him and sling them over his hips, letting my hands hang over his backside, my fingers gently stroking his steaming skin.
"I lost control tonight. I never lose control." I whisper to him, apologetically, my eyes scanning the scarring in his chest that has diminished as he has grown into a man. "You didn't deserve that."
"Maybe I did." He speaks softly, unsure. I inhale deeply, enjoying his scent for a moment before releasing my hands.
"Come."
I extend a hand to him and he takes it sweetly. Still obedient even as he laces his fingers in mine and follows me back to the bed, both if us naked...dripping...confused.
I carefully adjust the sheets with my free hand to mask the stains of our earlier acts. I wonder if he's noticed. I gently pull him around me until he is seated on the side of the bed. He gently sits before me: knees parted slightly, chest pounding, half-hard cock resting, sexy disheveled copper hair sloppily atop his forehead.
"I have a gift for you. Well, two. Actually...three." I chuckle as I add in to the list and he matches it. I notice he is distracted by my wet pussy just inches from his face.
"Three gifts?" He inquires, his hands resting on the bed at his sides as he leans back slightly. I smile slightly at him, playing this scene more improvised than I have done anything in my life.
"Yes, Christian, three gifts. One I already gave to you."
He raises a questioning eyebrow and I meet his confused gaze by walking closer to him, sliding my form between his open knees.
"Your freedom, Christian. You were my best student and you've graduated." I smile weakly, knowing I'm doing what I have to do but unsure I will be able to live without his presence as I have grown accustomed to it. He looks down at his knees momentarily, his fingers fidget, but he doesn't protest. He doesn't speak at all. Suddenly and surprisingly immediately our nakedness feels foreign. Maybe he noticed it, too.
"Second. Your graduation present."
His eyes return to mine, taking their time to travel the length of my heated body before resting on mine with curious integrity.
"I was waiting for you to be an official Harvard grad, but it looks like today will have to do. Besides, you're right, Mr. Grey, you don't need all that shit." He smiles coyly at me and I feel my cheeks flush. God, he really is the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He waits patiently, moving only to run a hand through his tousled, damp hair.
"Tomorrow morning you will find a large sum of money has been transferred into your personal account. I don't want you to ask me why or how much, and my last act as your Mistress is to command you to accept it as a gift. Refusal is not an option. The money is yours."
He searches my face despondently, unsure of what to say. His grey eyes sparkle and twist a bit, bouncing back and forth between mine.
"But..." He whispers, shy...embarrassed even. Wondering I'm sure if and when the other shoe may drop.
In my first of many completely unnatural acts towards him or any man for that matter, I kneel submissively between his legs and place my hands gently on his knees. He sits up straight and gazes down at me as I slump slightly to the ground, assuming a position all too familiar to him. My lips part as I feel a growing heat in my groin, my knees open involuntarily and I feel my breath shudder.
"Because I believe in you Christian. I always have, even when no one else could. And I always will, even when you don't. You can change the world you and I hate so much."
He stares blankly at me and I wonder if he understands. His face warms slightly and I know he doesn't know what to say but he manages to hold my eye contact which in itself is a real triumph for him.
"Third?" He asks softly, not to be greedy I'm sure, but instead to cut through the awkward silence before it becomes unbearable. I swallow hard. I am resolved to what I want from him...and for him...but unsure of how to tell him. I press my body closer to the bed, the warmth of his knees surrounding me snugly as I close my eyes and coo at the feel of it. He watches me like a hawk and when my eyes open he has leaned into me slightly. I press my breasts against him, engulfing his now-hardening length. I moan at the feel of him growing for me.
"I want you to take me, Christian. The way it....the way it should be."
He looks down on me, his brow furrowed even as his breath quickens and he shifts slightly pushing his cock up between my breasts. He reaches a hand up to stroke my cheek and leaves it there to rest. I let my head fall into his grasp. He leans closer to me and whispers in a heady, off-the-charts-sexy voice that about kills me.
"You want me to fuck you?"
I close my eyes and twist and turn my head in his open hand, cooing at him like a kitten as I press against him gently.
"No, baby, no." I ease off my knees, slowly releasing his cock from my breasts until we are face to face. I raise both hands and cup his chiseled features. Running my thumbs over his full pout and letting my fingertips tease his wet hair. He is stunning. He relaxes in my hands but his eyes still swim in confusion and concern. I don't want him to fuck me. He's fucked me hundreds of times, in ways most people only dream of. I want something neither of us have ever had.
"Make love to me, Christian."
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My Little Lost Christian