Fifty Shades Freed (Fifty Shades 3) - Chapter 105

“No . . .” The words are out of my mouth in whispered horror before I can stop them.

“Yes,” he says, and grasping my chin he leans down and plants a tender kiss on my lips.

“Oh, Christian, you scare me sometimes.” I grasp his head in my hands, twist my fingers into his hair, and pull his lips to mine. He stills for a moment as his arms fold around me.

“Why?”

“You could turn away from her so easily . . .”

He frowns. “And you think I might turn away from you, Ana? Why the hell would you think that? What’s brought this on?”

“Nothing. Kiss me. Take me home,” I plead. And as his lips touch mine, I am lost.

“Oh please,” I beg, as Christian blows gently on my sex.

“All in good time,” he murmurs.

I pull on my restraints and groan loudly in protest from his carnal assault. I’m trussed up in soft leather cuffs, each elbow bound to each knee, and Christian’s head bobs and weaves between my legs, his masterful tongue teasing me, relentless. I open my eyes and gaze unseeing at our bedroom ceiling bathed in the soft late afternoon light. His tongue moves round and round, swirling and curling over and around the center of my universe. I want to straighten my legs and struggle in a vain attempt to control the pleasure. But I can’t. My fingers fist in his hair and I tug hard to fight his sublime torture.

“Don’t come,” he murmurs in warning against me, his soft breath on my warm, wet flesh as he resists my fingers. “I will spank you if you come.”

I moan.

“Control, Ana. It’s all about control.” His tongue renews its erotic incursion.

Oh, he knows what he’s doing. I am helpless to resist or stop my slavish reaction, and I try – really try – but my body detonates under his merciless ministrations, and his tongue doesn’t stop as he wrings every last ounce of debilitating pleasure from me.

“Oh, Ana,” he scolds. “You came.” His voice is soft with his triumphant reprimand. He flips me onto my front, and I shakily support myself on my forearms. He smacks me hard on my behind.

“Ah!” I cry out.

“Control,” he admonishes, and grabbing my hips he thrusts himself into me. I cry out again, my flesh still quivering from the aftershocks of my orgasm. He stills while deep inside me and, leaning over, unclips first one, then the second cuff. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me into his lap, his front to my back, and his hand curls beneath my chin around my throat. I revel in the feeling of fullness.

“Move,” he orders.

I moan and rise up and down on his lap.

“Faster,” he whispers.

And I move faster and faster. He groans and his hand tips my head back as he nibbles my neck. His other hand travels leisurely across my body, from my hip, down to my sex, down to my clitoris . . . still sensitive from his earlier lavish attention. I whimper as his fingers close around me, teasing me once more.

“Yes, Ana,” he rasps softly in my ear. “You are mine. Only you.”

“Yes,” I breathe as my body tightens again, closing around him, cradling him in the most intimate way.

“Come for me,” he demands.

And I let go, my body obediently following his command. He holds me still as my climax rips through me and I call out his name.

“Oh, Ana, I love you,” he groans and follows my lead as he bucks into me, finding his own release.

He kisses my shoulder and smoothes my hair from my face. “Does that make the list, Mrs. Grey?” he murmurs. I am lying, barely conscious, flat on my belly on our bed. Christian gently kneads my backside. He’s propped up beside me on one elbow.

“Hmm.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Hmm.” I smile.

He grins and kisses me again, and reluctantly I roll on my side to face him.

“Well?” he asks.

“Yes. It makes the list. But it’s a long list.”

His face nearly splits in two, and he leans forward to kiss me gently.

“Good. Shall we have dinner?” His eyes glow with love and humor. I nod. I am famished. I reach over to gently pull the little hairs on his chest.

“I want you to tell me something,” I whisper.

“What?”

“Don’t get mad.”

“What is it, Ana?”

“You do care.”

His eyes widen, and all trace of his good humor vanishes.

“I want you to admit that you care. Because the Christian I know and love would care.”

He stills, his eyes not leaving mine, and I’m witness to his internal struggle as if he’s about to make the judgment of Solomon. He opens his mouth to say something then closes it again as some fleeting emotion crosses his face . . . pain, maybe.

Say it, I will him.

“Yes. Yes, I care. Happy?” His voice is barely a whisper. Oh, thank f**k for that. It’s a relief. “Yes. Very.”

He frowns. “I can’t believe I’m talking to you now, here in our bed, about – ”

I put my finger to his lips.

“We’re not. Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “You beguile and bewilder me, Mrs. Grey.”

“Good.” I lean up and kiss him.

From: Anastasia Grey

Subject: The List

Date: September 9, 2011 09:33

To: Christian Grey

That’s definitely at the top.

😀

A x

Anastasia Grey

Commissioning Editor, SIP

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Tell Me Something New

Date: September 9, 2011 09:42

To: Anastasia Grey

You’ve said that for the last three days.

Make your mind up.

Or . . . we could try something else.

😉

Christian Grey

CEO, Enjoying this Game, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.