Disclaimer: I own nothing. All credit goes to E.L. James. I'm just borrowing her characters. Some passages are taken directly from her book, all credit goes to the author.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?' Christian shouts, waking me from my pleasant dream. He's standing over me, glaring down on me. He's mad, really mad.

Oh Crap! What have I done? That's when I notice I am no longer sleeping on my stomach.

"I was on my front. I must have turned over in my sleep," I whisper weakly in my defense.

His eyes blaze with fury. He reaches down, scoops up my bikini top and tosses it at me.

"Put this on!" he hisses.

"Christian, no one is looking," I state, trying desperately to get him to calm down.

"Trust me. They're looking. I'm sure Taylor and the security crew are enjoying the show!" he snarls.

Holy shit! Why do I keep forgetting about them? I grasp my breasts in panic, hiding them.

"Yes," Christian snarls. "And some sleazy fucking paparazzi could get a shot of you, too. Do you want to be all over the cover of Star magazine? Naked this time?"

Shit! The paparazzi! Fuck! As I hurriedly scramble into my top, all thumbs, the color drains from my face. I shudder. The unpleasant memory of being besieged by the paparazzi outside Seattle Independent Publishing after our engagement was leaked comes unwelcome to mind—all part of the Christian Grey package.

Christian remains silent, brooding, and bad-tempered the rest of the day. And it's all my fault. I should have known better. It is dinner time and he asks me if I would like a drink first.

"Do I need one?" I question softly.

"Why would you say that?' he frowns. Before I can respond he questions again, "You think I'm going to punish you?" His voice is too silky for comfort.

"Do you want to?" My voice is trembling. I'm nervous. I've never seen him so mad and yet so calm at the same time.

"Yes"

Oh Shit!

After an awkward and silent dinner, we once again 'enjoy' drinks on the deck while Christian checks his email on his blackberry.

"Fuck!" His booming voice causes me to jump and spill the rest of my drink all over myself. Before I can even begin to question his need for such an expletive, Christian throws his blackberry in my lap. He stands abruptly and begins pacing the deck, mumbling to himself.

I pick up his phone and look at the screen, wondering what can be wrong. There before my eyes is a picture of myself lounging topless. Fuck me! My gasp causes Christian to stop his pacing. His menacing glare is directed towards me.

"Are you happy now?" he shouts.

I begin to feel tears forming. I try to blink them back as I glance once again to the photo on the screen of the phone.

"They sent me an email to tell me that no amount of money will buy their silence and that we should expect these photos to hit the internet tomorrow morning" Christian bellows. "So now everyone will be able to see what is for my eyes only. I can't believe this fucking shit, Anastasia".

He storms off to our cabin. I'm numb all over, shocked, and scared. I do not know what to say to him to make him calm down. What am I going to say to my parents, friends, and my co-workers? Oh my God! How am I going to face Christian's family?

I sit on the deck holding his phone for what seems like hours. To think that we were having an amazing time on our honeymoon and I just ruined it. I ruined it for Christian, I ruined it for myself, I just ruined everything. I glance at Christian's phone to see what time it is. It's late. I slowly push myself out of the chair and try to find the nerve to go in search of my husband. I'm scared. I don't know if I'm scared of him because he wants to punish me or just scared of the whole situation. Normally, Christian is the one to comfort me when I'm feeling so disturbed. But I have my suspicions that he will not be comforting me tonight.

I walk into our cabin and am frozen at the door. Christian is lying on our bed, with his hands behind his head and feet crossed at his ankles, wearing those jeans.

"Well hello Mrs. Grey", he whispers seductively.