A/N: I'm very nervous about posting this. It is a departure from my usual writing. For a long time my friend tried to get me to read the ff version of Fifty Shades of Grey. I read the first three or four chapters several different times with no interest. So finally she challenged me. Told me to read at least ten chapters then if I wasn't interested she'd drop the subject.

Well, I went into our deal thinking I'd read those few chapters then put the matter to rest. I didn't see the light of day for over four days. I read steadily at first, over 24 hours with no sleep. To say I was hooked is to put it mildly and it isn't that it's a really well written book. It's just interesting and when you wade through all the unnecessary explicit sex we get a half decent story. Sure there had to be sex and kinky f**kery sex. We just didn't need it every five minutes. I may make the same mistake myself so tell me if I do.

If I had to read about one more of her inner goddesses moods I would have reached into my computer and strangled her.

If anyone saw the movie The Secretary there are similarities between that movie and this book. The male characters name is Edward Grey. In the ff version Christian's name is Edward. In the movie his last name is Grey and Christian's last name in the book is Grey. Too many coincidences. Nothing wrong with it just some FYI.

Now, on with the show. Please review.

Summary: Marcus Devlin, a man very much like his friend Christian Grey, finds himself drawn to a woman against his will. A less suitable companion would be hard to find. She's uneducated, one step from being homeless, collects recyclable items and begs for handouts to make ends meet. Marcus needs a special type of woman. One willing to go beyond what society deems acceptable sexual practices. Marcus may just be very surprised by Sonny's dark side barely kept at bay. Will he unleash her demons even as she helps chase his away?

Marcus Devlin aka The Walstreet Devil or Cobra to some/33/Irish/ Coal black hair with penetrating cold dark brown eyes/look almost black/obsidian

Sonja Donatella/22 aka Sonny of Russian/Italian origin/blond/jade green eyes

Libby Lane/Elizabeth/20 Sonny's friend/petite with soft wavy brown hair and light blue eyes/Pollyanna outlook on life

Story starts in late spring

Twenty-five Shades of Dark

Chapter One

Dark Desires

Marcus' POV

The grand opening of my new restaurant went well, better than I expected. No last minute problems cropped up to ruin the night. This place compliments the hotel I built last year. I officially opened the doors to The Palms Court last spring. This spring I opened The Breeze. Next spring I hope to break ground on the new high rise of luxury condos I plan to build on the block where a bunch of homes and apartments now stand. All of them are in disrepair. Many already have condemned notices on them.

If I have my way that whole block will be leveled in a couple of months. They are an eyesore and need to come down. I don't know where the people will go and frankly, I don't care. I know there are a few good people in there that may have been given some hard knocks. So what? For the first twelve years of my life I lived with two drugged out parents neither of them knowing or caring if I had food to eat, if I was okay or even if I was still living.

When they died from an overdose when I was twelve I went to live with an old friend of my mom's. She wasn't wealthy but she lived well off her dead husband's life insurance and pension.

You know how you think that things can't get any worse and then they do? Well that's how I felt when Carrie Reynolds came to get me from DCF. Back when my parents still had a few useable brain cells they thought it wise to draw up a will so I'd be taken care of if something happened to them. At that time they still gave me a fleeting thought now and then.

Well, something happened and I was taken care of, just not in the way they had in mind. Would it have made any difference if they had known? They were barely hanging on by the time the will came into being.

Now here I am with more money than I can spend and new properties with my name on the deed. To celebrate I had my driver take the long way around the city. Screw all those people trying to make nice with me because someday down the road they will need something I have, something in great abundance, cash. I wasn't born into money. I earned every penny I have now by sheer determination and absorbing information concerning every subject imaginable. I didn't go to college. I did take some classes at the local high school. I studied the finacial sections of newspapers and paid attentoin to Wall Street.

The woman at my side won't mind if we detour. She likes to fuck in cars, planes, restaurants and yes, even in my playroom. I don't know about beds as that isn't my thing. We can have some warm up practice for the main event later on the way home. She would like to come home with me but I'm not in the mood for company tonight. If this wasn't my restaurant opening up I'd be at home going over plans for my next project. I certainly have come a long way from that poor boy I used to be.

After I made my first million dollar deal I hired a life coach, John Ward, to teach me about how to deal with the world around me. There wasn't much that son-of-a-bitch didn't know. Damn fucker tried to fuck me every chance he got and I don't mean figuratively, I mean he literally wanted to fuck me in the ass with his sixty something shriveled up cock. If I hadn't needed him I'd have cut him loose within the first couple of months. I kept him around for six months until I found a suitable replacement. Jack Hale, John's replacement is now my right hand man. He's thirty and chases anything female just short of those looking like a baboons butt.

Getting out of the car tonight an odd thing happened. There was this girl at the restaurant not that there is anything unusual in that. What made her noteworthy is she appeared to be homeless, a panhandler to boot. I am still reeling from the jolt I got when I first saw her. If lightening struck I couldn't have been more surprised.

Every fiber, every hair on my body seemed to vibrate with something I've never felt before. I don't like it because it made me lose control with Daniela. One instant my eyes locked with this strange girl throwing me off balance. I like control. In my anger over losing control in such a ridiculous way I took it out on Daniela. Shit, I nearly opened her up. I shouldn't have brought her home, not in the state I was in.

Sitting here in my living room I feel shy or some such thing. Letting her stay after our encounter is proof I'm not feeling myself. I want to make sure she's okay. Why the hell she didn't use the safe word I'm going to find out. This can't happen again.

To soften my mood I use my pet name for her as I ask, "Danny, what happened in there? I could have really hurt you."

She smiles as she tilts her butt to one side. I imagine it hurts like hell. "You were getting so turned on and that made me get hotter than hell. I nearly came before you fucked me. Don't worry about it sweetie. I'm tough as old boots back there."

"Danny, your ass is like marshmallows, soft, squishy and good to eat. In fact, I'd like to take a bite of you again. Please, don't let me go that far again," I say tilting up her chin with two fingers. I'm not a cruel person, just sadistic with my sex partners. Last night a certain blond girl drove me to do something I swore I never would, I lost control of the whip.

Danny left with an extra spring in her step. Whether from the hard fucking climax we shared or the $2000 in cash I gave her is hard to say. She certainly didn't want to leave even with me dangling the cash as incentive. I'm not into having my women stay long after the sex is over. Usually I just let them find their own way out. Lingering leads to tears, long goodbyes and me losing my patience.

During the next few days my concentration at work is to the point that everyone is giving me strange looks. This has got to stop. I haven't so much as spoken to her and yet she fills every moment of leisure time I have. Working, when I buckle down and really focus helps keep my mind off her. It's while I'm asleep and unguarded that her image creeps in. I must say her face is a welcome change from my customary night terrors.

In order to drive one woman out of my mind I fill my nights with as many different women as I can manage to service. It's a fucking inconvenience. I'd much rather be looking at the plans for my new high-rise.

Giving in to weakness isn't something I encourage in others and deplore in myself. Finding I am unable to resist returning to The Breeze just in case I might catch a glimpse of that fucking girl is annoying to say the least. I find I am now looking for a woman who looks like her. Shit, what the fuck is happening to me? Whatever it is it had better stop.

Christian is no help as he is busy with family things. Ana keeps him on a short leash and the poor bastard doesn't even realize it. I don't think he'd change a thing if he did. That woman and his two kids can work him like putty. He isn't weak, just, content.

Taking up skydiving gets rid of some of my restlessness. There's something about plunging toward the ground at a high rate of speed with only a few yards of silk to save your ass from being splattered over half the county that puts things into perspective for a while anyway. I'm considering buying my own plane so I can take to the skies whenever I feel the need.

Fucking three to four times a day is draining my reserves. Add to that the punishment and we have a very whipped Marcus, literally.

What the fuck am I doing? I've come to eat at The Breeze restaurant three times this week. The food isn't that spectacular. What draws me is the irresistible attraction I feel for that young woman, the one who is essentially a homeless panhandler as far as I can tell.

I don't fuck cheap women. I fuck only upper class women who fit well in the circles I must travel due to my business connections. Occasionally I need a female for window dressing to silence unwanted speculation about my sexual preferences.

She looks clean enough but who knows what diseases she might be carrying around that she will pass on to some unsuspecting fool willing to take her to bed?

My lips quirk in a sardonic smile at that thought. No woman ever comes to my bed. I don't sleep in beds with women. I play my games with them, fuck them in my special way and then send them home with a smile on their faces. They are also considerably richer than when they came.

The bed thing is no problem but her personal hygiene habits are likely not up to my standards. I'd have to clean her up. Imagining her all wet and slippery in my bath is not something I'd normally fantasize about. No woman other than my housekeeper Mrs. Harper has ever stepped foot in my bedroom or master bath. In my playroom there is a full bath. Just the idea of this woman in my special room is enough to bring another surge of desire below my waist.

What is it about this blond that makes my body hum with such desire when as far as I know she hasn't paid any attention to me at all? That is a sore point with me. Usually I have to practically beat women off me with a stick. The thought of beating her bare buttocks swells my dick with need. I'd also like to blindfold her then fuck her sweet mouth.

I watch my blond siren all the while pretending not to notice her and the others leaning against the wall of the restaurant. If she didn't have this damned pull on me I'd have called the cops to chase the whole fucking group away. It's bad for business. My manager Diego has asked if he should get rid of them. Why I told him not to bother with them unless someone complains isn't any complicated reason. I want her but won't go after her. I can imagine her doing things to me just as I imagine doing things to her. Her presence is a test of my resolve. Denial of things you want gives you an appreciation for those things when you do get them, or so Christian says.

I can get fucked any day of the week any time of the day or night. What I can't and won't do is approach that damned beggar. Not that she's asked me for anything or any of the others for that matter. I suppose I do look intimidating with my black hair and dark brown eyes. I've been told they are an eerie shade that looks obsidian. My enemies compare me to a snake. Some even go so far as to call me Cobra. I don't mind. In fact I rather like that comparison. I can be deadly all the while I am lulling them with my hypnotic words and soft voice. Women tell me I can be irresistible when I put some effort into being a kinder, softer person. To hell with softness for softness sake. I use their weakness as one of my strengths.

I hadn't planned on taking Rebecca, my date, home tonight but feeling as if I'm going to explode is not something I am willing to let continue without seeking release. Pulling the redhead closer to me I whisper in her ear.

She looks at me in shock for a moment then smiles wickedly back at me. I'll be giving her desert before we have dinner. I'll be getting sucked dry beneath the table. How we'll manage that is a thrilling challenge. My table is always the one in the darkest corner of the room. Yes, I'll have her on her knees within fifteen minutes. I feel the surge against my zipper as my heart begins to thump a thunderous rhythm in my chest.

Fuck the blond. What do I need with a lowlife indigent who is likely a whore? Besides, my women need to have special skills, special desires that match my own. I'm not like other men. I don't make love to a woman, I fuck them. The other things I do in order to achieve a climax is not something all women are willing to share with anyone. It takes a special sort of woman, not some homeless whore from the streets.

I order drinks briskly, wanting to shove Rebecca beneath the table. I'm hot with desire, ready to shoot off at the slightest touch but I have to look and act civilized until our drinks are on the table. I can then tell the waiter not to disturb us for at least twenty minutes. My interest isn't in eating it is in fucking Rebecca's luscious mouth. I want to feed her my hard cock. The table cloth will act as a blindfold since I don't carry one in my pocket.

I'd prefer to be able to deliver some pain along with my pleasure but here that isn't going to be possible. The risk of getting caught is enough to take me over the edge.

She likes to be choked when we fuck so maybe I can give her some incentive to make this very good for me. To hell with the other patrons. If they don't like it then they can fucking leave. I own this joint so if I want I can clear it out then lay Rebecca face down on a table so I can beat her soft flesh then fuck us both to hell and back.

Rebecca slides down beneath the table. Her hands grasp my knees. Widening the space between my legs she crawls forward on her knees. When she touches my zipper I have to swallow a groan. My breathing is labored. Closing my eyes I wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze gently. Taking me into her mouth I feel her teeth graze along the length of my dick. Shit, I'm about to come and I haven't even gotten fully into her warm moist mouth.

Wanting to thrust my length down her throat I settle for a hard push on the back of her head with one hand so I force my length all the way in. Tangling my fingers in her hair I push down harder. She gets the idea that I want to go deep in her mouth so I can use both hands to encircle the thin column of her neck.

I wish I'd thought to take off my tie. Maybe I'll start carrying a spare. This is a new experience for me, one I am finding very stimulating. I've never thought of myself as an exhibitionist. I'm more of a sadist with a little masochism thrown in. I also like bondage and disciplining my partner. The things I can do with a whip lashing out against soft flesh while they are tied up is so damn exciting there are times my partners have had to use our safe word to keep me from going too far.

Rebecca is digging her nails into my thighs adding power to my thrusts into her mouth. I've turned the lamp on the table off so we are almost in total darkness. Being so far from everyone else it is likely we are not being observed.

Opening my eyes I catch a very pretty woman staring at me with wide eyes. Her mouth is open with her tongue running along her bottom lip. One hand is on her throat and the other is below the table. Flushed skin with the dew of perspiration on an upper lip tells me that our performance has an audience, one turned on by what she sees. I give her one of my come fuck me looks which causes her to jolt in her chair. I see a flurry of movement in her upper arm that shocks even me. She's masturbating in the middle of the crowded restaurant. Now that is perverted. I would laugh if I wasn't so fucking turned on. I am conflicted how I should feel to know there are other people just as fucked up as I am. It's a sick world with so many sick minded people in it. I wonder what drives those other poor fuckers to do the things they do. I know my secrets but I'm not sharing. I have with Christian but I know I can trust him to keep my confession to himself.

Rebecca has to tap both my legs to signal I am squeezing too tight. I want to bring her near fainting, not kill her. This sort of thing is a regular practice for her which is why she always wears designer scarves around her neck. People think it is a fashion statement. What would they say if they knew it is just a means to cover the evidence of her depravity? Being a teacher of young minds her sexual deviation would shock the parents of her students. Being that it is a prestigious private school the fallout from such a revelation would have far-reaching consequences.

With a restrained groan I stiffen then spill into her mouth with one last thrust. In less than a minute she is sitting beside me holding her menu as if nothing has happened. That's what I like about my fuck women; they know that after I come there is no intimacy, no tender cuddling, and no kissing. In fact I rarely kiss any of my women. I only do it if that will make them more compliant to my wishes.

Throughout dinner it is hard to keep from seeing that blond witch in my mind. I have to suffer a hard on so powerful I fear my zipper will rip apart. Well, that settles it, Rebecca will be coming home with me. I am not into denial.

Christian says denial can make the end climax so much more intense but I say fuck that, I get enough intensity doing what I do to women and what they do to me. I don't need anything more. I especially don't need any damn blond nobody worming her way into my mind.

Again I consider having them all run off. What stops me from doing what I would like to do I won't examine too closely. Sooner or later they'll move on to another business. I can dismiss her until she is but a blip on my memory screen, at least I thought I could.

Finding myself on yet another date at The Breeze a couple days later annoys me and yet I feel my pulse rate increase and I feel an odd eagerness. The bulge in my trousers is evidence how badly I want that fucking blond homeless tramp.

With Honey beside me in the car I can't let my odd feelings show. I'm good at hiding my emotions. Hiding what I'm thinking serves me well in the business world. I've beaten so many worthy opponents by keeping an unreadable expression on my face. Ana, Christian's wife tells me all the time I am just as unreadable as he is at times. I take that as a compliment as Christian is a very astute and successful businessman. I am grateful we are not in competition even if a few of our companies go after the same acquisitions and companies we wish to merge. So far we've kept the rivalry friendly. It might be different if one of us didn't make the list of top ten billionaires in the world.

When the car stops I tell Ted not to bother getting out. When Honey and I are on the pavement I send her in with the excuse it is too windy for her to wait while I issue instructions to Ted about when to come back. I could use the phone and if she was a bit more intelligent she'd bring that up. She's so…I hate use the cliché of the dumb blond but…she's only slightly more intelligent than a teenager. She gives great head and fucks like a chimpanzee on steroids. She's compliant and only wants the pretty baubles I buy for her. We have a perfect fucking relationship.

Christian and I are different in that he only had one sub at a time while I have anywhere from five to six women at my beck and call. His wife is now his only sub although he'd knock my teeth out if I refer to Ana as his submissive. Come to think about it, Ana wouldn't be too happy to have that label assigned to her, at least not by anyone other than Christian. She loves Christian so much she is willing to do anything for him. It is the same for him. Willingly he gave up some of his toys and sexual inclinations. Ana would kill Christian if she knew how open he is with me. I get more than I want to know at times. He's just so enamored with her and their children he forgets to curb his tongue at times. I get that he's not used to speaking openly with anyone. I also get for so many years he shut himself off from his family and the world other than business and what he got from his submissives. I'm a loaner too. I have no family and Christian is my one and only true friend.

I could blackmail him with all that I know about him. His pictures he keeps as insurance would not save him against me as I'm not in any of them and he is. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall the day he and Ana discussed whether to keep them or not. Ana had to view all of them to assess if they were indeed useful as weapons against Christian's former subs. Apparently Ana discovered those pictures quite some time ago. What with all that happened during that time the photos were left in a drawer until Ana rediscovered them. Stupidly Christian kept them in the same dresser drawer that Ana found them in the first time. He was supposed to have destroyed them.

Ana was not pleased. Christian got the cold shoulder for all of a day. Ana can't keep her hands off him long enough to really punish the lucky fuck. They have kept the pictures although Ana made him put them in her hands for safe keeping. She's a jealous woman.

I have a stable of loyal fuck mates. I take care of them they take care of me. Doesn't give me the warm and fuzzies but then I don't like warm and fuzzy. I like cold calculating consensual sadomasochistic acts with some BD thrown in.

With Honey out of the way I am free to take my fill of my blond siren. My siren being blond and having such an effect on me I suppose is why I found Honey and brought her into my stable. Usually I go for dark haired women or red heads. Why the fuck I'm all of a sudden salivating over this fucking blond nobody is driving me crazy.

Tossing a glacial look in the general direction of the group of young people I force myself only to single her out briefly. I want to rip the clothes from her then shove her against the wall so I can fuck her so hard her teeth rattle. I think I can even forgo my usual foreplay I am so horny. For Christ's sake this has to stop.

I have a very real fear that if she approaches me I'd be tempted to offer her everything I own for a night of sexual depravity with me. Everything about her shouts innocence but that can't be. She has to be in her early twenties. That alone should turn me off. She's too young for me and not only in age but in experience. She's of an age when she should either be in college or holding down a job and yet she relies on begging for support.

The whole week after my date with Honey I try to get in touch with Christian. I need his advice before I fuck up all I've built just for a night of fucking some young sweet thing. I don't know how she'd ruin me I just feel it in my bones that if I spend a night with her nothing will be the same. How fucking stupid is that? I'm not a romantic man. I don't send my women special gifts for birthdays or any other special day. Once a month I send them a check and pay off their credit cards. They can spend their money any way they wish they just don't expect me to help them pick anything out. That would be too personal.

I only take them out on dates so I can be seen with a female once in a while. I don't want any speculation about being gay like they did about Christian. Christian dating Ana then marrying her shocked the hell out of a lot of people who firmly believed he was gay. Hell, for a while I thought so too. After I met him and we let our hair down during a drunken moment we told each other intimate details of our sexual inclinations.

It is because of Christian that I now have signed documents preventing my women from discussing our relationship or anything to do with me. If they do everything they received during our time together will be returned to me and payment for any monetary compensation they got must be returned post haste. I have a very good and discreet lawyer.

For this concession of silence I agree to a $50,000 severance when our partnership ends. That fifty thousand gets spread out over time in $5,000 increments. Hopefully this ensures their silence.

I suppose there are worse things than a guy liking to give and receive pain before fucking a woman. There are other things I do that might go beyond what anyone can accept other than another deviant like Christian Grey.

Brusquely I walk into the restaurant. I've spent too much time thinking about a woman so far beneath my notice I should be flogged for just thinking about doing anything with her. That brings me right back to the brink of climax as I imagine the whip hitting virgin skin. When I'm on the brink a soft warm had wraps tightly around my swollen cock. At this point I have to firmly halt any further thoughts along this line or else I'll take that bitch in the street.

Being hedonistic it is easy to dismiss my inner voice shaking a finger at me for prejudging someone I haven't even spoken to. Thinking of her in negative terms makes it easier to dismiss her and the aggravating attraction I feel toward her.

If I don't speak to Christian soon I may well do something I'll later regret, like speak to her and offer her the key to all I own. Not my heart but all my worldly goods. This woman has me thinking some fucked up shit. If I believed in such things I'd think she put a voodoo hex on me or cast a spell. All I know is what I feel for her is so compelling I am just able to refrain from committing an act of idiocy by speaking to her thus letting her know how she affects me. Big mistake. I won't let it happen. I control my emotions they do not control me.