***FREE FANFIC***@Hg2806 "I loved this start to finish. It's so different to the original, but kept the key aspects. A very addictive read."
@FeliciaSpears2 "This is such a great story I love the way you're making it your own."
***CHRISTIAN GR...
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Taylor meets me as arranged. If he's at all surprised by what the 'situation' turns out to be he doesn't show it.
"It's only alcohol, no drugs involved. I don't think Miss Steele requires medical assistance, but have the details of a suitable medic on standby just in case," I instruct him.
"Yes sir."
He gets us in through the service entrance at the back and then up to the suite via the emergency staircase. He offers to carry Ana up the stairs, but I refuse because I don't want her in anyone else's arms, not even Taylor's. I can manage just fine.
As we enter the suite, I see Taylor hesitate as he is unsure where I'm going to put Ana. He's never seen a woman sleep in my bed in all the time he's worked for me. He's seen many women come and go, but they've always slept in a separate room from me.
But I head straight for my bed and gently put Ana down there. She stirs momentarily and murmurs sleepily, but doesn't start vomiting again thankfully.
She looks so young and sweet and innocent lying there, and I think I catch an expression of concern, or maybe even pity flit across Taylor's face in an unguarded moment.
"That'll be all. I'll call you if I need anything else," I say to dismiss him, and I know he understands that I've brought Miss Steele here to look after her, not to take advantage of her. That is not my way. Whatever kinky stuff I get up to in my playroom is only ever with fully consenting, sentient females. I don't need to drug women. They willingly beg me to fuck them.
Once he's left, I undo Ana's converse and take them off along with her socks. I realize they have suffered somewhat from her profuse vomiting, as have her jeans. I can't leave her in them, they're gross.
"Miss Steele, I must say this wasn't how I envisaged undressing you," I mutter as I undo the button and zip of her jeans, slide them down over her hips, and then tug them off from the bottom of the legs.
I can't help myself, I feast my eyes on her long, slim gorgeous legs that she's kept hidden away up to now. My God, they really are supermodel legs, but I'm glad she's not a model because I'd hate other men ogling her. For my eyes only, if I have my way. And I usually do.
I roll her onto her side to sleep in case she's sick again, and I see her perfect, soft, round butt encased in plain white cotton panties. Oh she deserves much nicer underwear than that. I'd really like to see her in some obscenely expensive silk and lace panties to showcase that fantastic ass.
My eyes hungrily take in the rest of her lovely figure, but I don't touch her. Not without her permission. But I can see the swell of her full breasts under her t shirt, and I can't help imagining how it would feel to cup them, caress them, suck them, fuck them... I close my eyes and swallow hard. I have to shut down this line of thought right now, so I cover her up and tuck the duvet over her securely.
I take out my Blackberry and call Taylor.
"Miss Steele's clothes need to go to the laundry. Get her some new ones for the morning. Something blue."
