The second we leveled off, and our pilot Stephan informed us we could move about the cabin, I stood holding my hand out to Anastasia. Accepting, she unbuckled her seatbelt, and we walked over to where Gail, Taylor, and McIntyre sat with our son.
I'd been worried about flying and our son's ears, so during the week, Ana had called Dr. Blaine who suggested the swallow action was the easiest way to ease any discomfort associated with pressure changes. Since I was uncomfortable having Teddy out of his car seat during takeoff, we'd decided to give him a bottle of expressed breast milk. Teddy preferred his milk from his mother's breast and wouldn't take a bottle if Anastasia was in sight, so we'd tasked Gail to feed him a warmed bottle during takeoff while Ana and I sat out of eyesight a little further back. Full and happy, Teddy was now out for the count in his car seat which had been safely installed next to Gail's seat.
"Gail? Can you keep an eye on Teddy, please? He should sleep for at least the next hour or two," my wife asked, giving our housekeeper a meaningful look.
"Of course," Gail replied with a happy grin. Anastasia had explained she'd asked Gail to help with our son during the Detroit trip; not that our housekeeper seemed to mind! In fact, Gail looked thrilled to be accompanying us on our journey. With no further conversation, I led Anastasia back to the bedroom at the rear of the jet. As soon as the door to the main cabin closed, I had my wife pressed up against it, hiking her modest knee-length skirt up to her waist.
"I need you," I groaned as I unbuttoned my fly, pulling down my zipper, my fingers then finding their way to my wife's panty-covered core.
"I know," she reassured me, pushing me away slightly but taking the sting out by stepping out of my embrace and pulling me over toward the bed. Wasting no time divesting her clothing, Anastasia flopped back onto the bed, nude other than a carnal expression. "Take your clothes off," she demanded, her baby blues flashing in challenge.
"Yes," I hissed in acquiescence, pulling my sweater off before ditching my jeans and boxer briefs and standing naked at the foot of the bed. "Baby? I'm out of sorts... Do you think maybe..."
"You need me to submit?" she replied, giving me a knowing look. "Check your carry on."
My interest piqued, I moved to my leather cabin-bag that one of the staff had thoughtfully placed to one side of the bedroom. Opening the zip, on top I found a pair of handcuffs, a coil of soft cotton rope, a bead-tipped flogger, a tube of jasmine scented lube and Ana's favorite butt plug.
"You're willing to play? In Detroit? Here?!" I asked my cock swelling even harder at the thought. I didn't give a fuck if my staff knew I was balls deep in my wife. Hell; a possessive part of me liked every male Ana came into contact with knowing I thoroughly satisfied my woman and that she'd never want to stray. A more rational part of me recognized Anastasia could never look any of our staff in the eye again if they heard her cum.
"I am, Sir," my wife agreed, moving off the bed and kneeling beside it with her palms on her knees face up, and her eyes downcast. Rolling my shoulders, I stood more erect; my demeanor changing as I stepped into my Dom mode.
"Stand," I ordered my voice firm. Anastasia complied without hesitation, sinuously raising into an upright position, her eyes still focused on the ground.
"I am going to handcuff you to the bedhead. Then I will spank you. Finally, I am going to put in your butt plug and fuck you. HARD. If you're silent, I will let you cum. Do you understand, Anastasia?"
"I understand," my wife replied in a breathy moan.
"What are your safe words, baby?"
"Yellow and red, Sir."
I grunted in agreement, pushing Ana onto the bed and handcuffing her. While the restraint latch I had added before our honeymoon was discreetly hidden at the base of the headboard, with the addition of a swivel bolt on the handcuffs, it allowed me to shackle Anastasia securely whilst still allowing me to rotate her.
"Hands and knees. Now!" I demanded. I'd tie her legs up later. Right now, more than anything, I wanted to lay my palm on Anastasia's ass.
Obliging me without a moment's hesitation, I almost came looking at my wife's lily-white derrière proudly on display. Her skin so smooth and unblemished, the thought of making it blush pink with my hand was almost enough to make me cum there and then!
"How many do you think you deserve?" I growled, fighting to regain my control. It was beyond tempting to just lose myself in my woman.
"Whatever pleases you, Master."
Oh God! When we played, Anastasia usually called me Sir or Mr. Grey. But I could count on one hand the number of times she'd called me Master. It was a huge turn on! In fact, the only thing I think would excite me more was a session with her calling me Daddy! Filing that as a discussion point to raise at another time, I ran my hand over my woman's ass, savoring every curve of her soft, supple skin.
"We can't be overheard," I crooned in warning, my fingers rubbing closer and closer to her slit. "The staff are only just outside..." I hadn't even touched her, yet I could already smell Ana's arousal - and her soft pants of excitement had me harder than granite. "If you make a noise, I'll have to stop," I warned. "Do you understand?"
"I understand," Ana groaned, using her teeth to pull a pillow closer to her. Appreciating her need, I grabbed the pillow, positioning it beneath her face.
"Scream into that, if you need to," I dictated, my voice imperious.
"Then make me scream," Anastasia replied irreverently, flexing her back to point her ass up invitingly.
Fuck. No matter what she did, this woman was bound to unman me!
Wendy, when she arrived at our suite, was nothing like what I expected. To begin with, she was older than I'd anticipated. Wearing a fluffy twin-set and a pair of beige slacks, she looked like someone's grandmother – and perhaps she was. However, despite her amiable appearance, her eyes revealed a woman of quick wit and intelligence.
"Please take a seat. Can I get you anything?" Anastasia asked.
"No thank you, Mrs. Grey."
"Please – it's Christian and Ana," my wife requested. "And this is our son Teddy."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Wendy replied, smiling at us both. "Christian? Dr. Flynn has appraised me about the circumstances of your formative years, your adoption with the Greys, and some of your challenges adjusting to life with them. Yesterday I met with David and Aisling and got a background from them. This morning I want to run you through how I recommend these sessions run and outline ground rules."
I nodded. At Ana's suggestion, I was holding Teddy as we met with Wendy. She recognized his presence soothed me, but it also reminded me I was already part of a family, and that wouldn't change irrespective of what I did or didn't learn today.
"First, I'd like you to allow me to guide your discussions. I've been through numerous first meetings like these and they can overwhelm all concerned. There's a temptation to get the biggest questions answered in the first five minutes yet doing so can be detrimental to the process and the relationship you might want to pursue. By outlining for me your principal questions, I can guide the conversation to address these."
Wendy regarded me shrewdly. "As the 'child' in this situation, it's easy to consider yourself the aggrieved party. After all – your earliest years were spent in poverty suffering horrific neglect and abuse. You're allowed to hold anger about what you lived through, but there's no place for blame in these discussions. Going forward it will help you to remember that David and Aisling are both individuals with their own fears and insecurities. Make no assumptions about the past or about how a relationship may play out."
"So what does 'guiding our discussions' mean?" I asked. "I'm a successful businessman, and I don't find wasting time on superfluous discussion profitable."
"In business, it wouldn't be," Wendy agreed, unperturbed by my gruff tone. "But this isn't a business transaction. It will involve emotions; potentially strong ones. At different times yourself, David, Aisling, and Ana might reveal painful or distressing information. My role is to read the emotional temperature in the room and guide you all to feel safe and supported. I might suggest a break, changing to a different topic, or I might ask one of you to respond to what another is saying."
"That makes sense," Ana said, running her hand up and down my thigh to ground me.
"I like to do short sessions of around an hour and a half. Depending on how our first session goes today, we might follow it with a second later in the day. Between sessions, I suggest you and Ana regroup and talk and I will suggest David and Aisling do the same. I usually suggest a walk outside or similar."
"How many sessions do you envisage?" Ana asked. "We're booked for a week..."
"But we can extend if necessary," I added. "This is my sole priority right now."
"My experience is that after the initial sessions we often need a day for everyone to process what we have discussed. My understanding is that there is not yet a conclusive DNA test proving paternity, so a day to process that prior to meeting again will be beneficial. After that, the number of meetings will depend on how much there is to discuss and also whether either of you wish to have any contact going forward. Ideas about contact might change as you both go through the process, so it's one conversation I intentionally delay until later."
"As Christian's partner, is there anything I can do to help with this process?"
"I'm glad you asked," Wendy said, smiling at my wife. "Although these sessions obviously intimately involve you, David and Aisling's response to you will understandably be different to meeting Christian. If I perceive we need to step back from a topic, I might ask you to share a bit about your background, your life growing up and the like. Polite getting to know you chit chat can help normalize what otherwise may be an emotionally fraught discussion."
After that, we drilled down to my most pressing questions. My main question centered on Ella and the circumstances of my conception. Since Ella had given me David's middle name and part of his surname, it seemed very likely she knew at least something of him. I can only hope he remembered enough to tell me who she was.
My list of priority questions complete, Wendy tucked them into a folder.
"Christian? I'd like to have a couple of minutes alone with Anastasia." She wasn't asking, she was telling. Having conditions dictated to me was not something I was used to. I tried to keep my displeasure from my face.
"Why don't you take Teddy through to Gail and Taylor?" Ana suggested. Our son was close to drifting off to sleep, so it made sense to put him down next door with Gail.
I nodded, walking through into the bedroom part of our accommodations to collect the diaper bag.
"Just give us ten," Wendy said as I exited the space.
"What do you need?" Ana asked as soon I stepped back into the suite. Wendy was gone, and with Teddy with the Taylors, we were blissfully alone.
"Maybe a bath together?" I suggested. With less than ninety minutes until Wendy, David and Aisling were due to arrive, I was more tense than I could ever recall.
"Let's do it," Ana cooed, grasping my hand and pulling me into the bedroom and then to the bathroom.
Shedding her clothes as we made our way to the soaker tub in the bathroom, Ana turned on the taps before sinking to her knees in front of me. Taking me between her lips, my wife skillfully sucked me off until I blew in her mouth – shouting her name as I held her by the back of the head as my seed spurted into her hot, wet orifice.
"Hmm," I all but purred. "Thank you... I needed that, baby!"
"I needed it, too," Ana agreed, standing up and giggling. "Bath?"
"I thought that was the idea?" I teased, stepping into the warm water, then holding out my hands to help my wife do likewise. Together we sunk into the water, me at the back, Ana resting against me with her head lolling in the crook of my shoulder. There was a stereo in the bathroom, a remote on a stool beside the bath. Grasping it, I flicked through the stations until I found something I liked.
Pouring body wash over the two of us, I let the water foam before using the suds to soap my wife's delicious breasts. She was still feeding Theodore, so her nipples were particularly sensitive. A fact I took shameless advantage of as I soaped, stroked and squeezed her tender pink peaks, relishing my wife's excited moans.
"You like that, baby?!"
"You know I do," Ana grumbled, wiggling her ass against my crotch.
We played in the bath for a while, my fingers slipping between my woman's wet and waiting folds. I wanted to take her to our bed and spend hours ravishing her. However, time was not on our side! In the end, I finger-fucked her with one hand, using the other to rub her clit. It took a few minutes, but by the time Ana moaned my name to the ceiling of the bathroom, I didn't care about the journey, only her arrival!
"We can rest for another twenty minutes," I whispered, picking my wife out of the bath and carrying her through to the bedroom.
"Twenty-five," Anastasia mumbled with a sigh. "I've already laid out your outfit for this afternoon."
I smirked. Of course she had! We spooned naked on the bed. Sexually replete, at least for now, it was more about connecting.
"What did you talk to Wendy about?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
"She wanted to talk about your triggers and the way you respond to stress. She understands I know you better than anyone, so she suggested I call a stop to things if I can see you are approaching your limit."
"What if I say nothing?" I mused.
"I can read you, Christian. If I suspect you're beyond what you can manage, I'll say something. However, what if you use your safe words? Yellow if you're approaching your limit with what we're discussing, red if you need to stop."
"That could work," I admitted, seeing the validity in Ana's suggestion. Despite laying most of that part of my life to rest when I married Anastasia, hours in Elena's playroom had ingrained those words into my psyche. While I had no intention of mentioning Elena, her abuse, or my involvement in the lifestyle to my father, sister or counselor, safe words made sense given the situation.
I was going to say more when my cell rang. I'd already told Andrea and Ros to call Taylor if they needed anything, so it left precious few who had my personal cell. Groaning I rolled over to grasp my phone from the bedside. A Seattle number. My parents' home number in Bellevue.
"Hey," I said, attempting to sound laid back. I failed. Abysmally!
"I know you're meeting in just a few minutes. Your father and I wanted to wish you good luck and to remind you how much we love you, darling."
"Thanks, Mom," I murmured. I could have done without a call just before meeting my probable birth father, but as Anastasia had told me more than once over the last week, this wasn't just about me. The man and woman who had given me a chance at a decent life were understandably emotionally invested in this meeting, too.
"Are you ok?" Grace asked.
"I think the term is 'as well as can be expected,'" I replied with a hint of amusement.
"From our perspective, nothing will change. No matter what happens, you are our son. We love you, Christian; and we won't love you any less if you pursue a relationship with your birth father..."
"I know that," I promised. And I really did. "I need to get dressed, now. The counselor suggested one or two short meetings on the first day, then a day off, then potentially more meetings. If I'm not up to calling, Anastasia or Taylor will update you," I promised.
Anastasia nodded, grasping my hand supportively.
"Good luck," Grace whispered. "I hope you get what you want from this."
"That's the thing, Mom. I have no idea what I want," I said, feeling lost.
"You look so handsome," Anastasia assured me. My first instinct had been to wear a suit to meet David and Aisling. I was comfortable in a suit, and I appreciated I wore them well. However, Ana had convinced me there would be enough stress at a first meeting without me wearing a suit that was probably worth more than whatever car they drove. So saving the whole billionaire disclosure, for at least a little while, I dressed in Anastasia's suggested outfit of jeans, a button up covered by a sweater. Her own outfit was equally low-key; skinny jeans, a long-sleeved top and a pair of converse. Casual but still so beautiful.
"They'll be here any second," I said. If Anastasia noticed my voice was not as confident as usual, she didn't mention it.
And as though on cue, right on the hour there was a knock at the door.
As we'd agreed, Ana opened the door, greeting Wendy, David, and Aisling and showing them in. After the first words, I moved forward to meet the man who was almost certainly my biological father.
It was a stunning moment. We stood there looking at one another. Welch had been right! Sergeant Major David O'Riley was me but twenty years older! Neither of us spoke, just standing there regarding one another. Finally, David opened his mouth.
"I can see me... But I can also see your mother in you."