Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian (Fifty Shades 6)

Did I say that out loud?

I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m just so enamored of my wife. I nuzzle her breast with my nose and my tongue through the white gossamer of her bra. As her nipple strains for release, I use my teeth to drag down the cup, freeing her breast. Her nipple puckers in the gentle breeze, and I draw it slowly into my mouth and suck hard.

“Ah!” Ana groans, then flinches beneath me.

Fuck! Her ribs!

I stop, immediately. “Ana!” Damn. “This is what I’m talking about. Your lack of self-preservation. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Desperate, blazing eyes meet mine. “No! Don’t stop,” she whimpers. “Please.”

Shit. My whole body is screaming don’t stop.

But—

Hell!

“Here.” Carefully, I lift her and shift so she’s sitting astride me, and my hands travel smoothly up her legs to the tops of her thigh-highs.

She is one helluva sight. Her hair falling toward me, eyes soft and full of desire, her breast free. “There. That’s better, and I can enjoy the view.” I hook my finger into the other bra cup, drag it down so that I have both of her breasts to enjoy. As I take them in my hands, Ana groans and throws her head back, pushing them farther into my palms.

Oh, baby.

I tug and tease each of her nipples, and they lengthen further beneath my touch until she cries out. I want her mouth; I sit up so we’re nose to nose and kiss her, my tongue and my fingers teasing and tantalizing her.

Ana’s fingers are at my shirt again, scrambling to undo the remaining buttons, and she’s kissing me back with such fervor that I’m sure either one or both of us will combust. There’s a desperation in her kiss. “Hey—” Gently, I grasp her head and ease back. “There’s no rush. Take it slow. I want to savor you.”

“Christian, it’s been so long.” She’s breathless.

I know. But you’re hurt. Let’s not be hasty.

“Slow.” And that’s not a request. I press my lips to the right corner of her mouth “Slow.” The left corner. “Slow, baby.” I suck her bottom lip into my mouth. “Let’s take this slow.” Cradling her head, I continue to kiss her, my tongue subduing hers, hers enticing mine. She glides her fingers across my face, my chin, my throat, and starts on my shirt buttons once more. She tugs my shirt apart, her fingers caressing my chest, then pushing me down so that I’m prostrate beneath her.

She gazes down at me and squirms over my groin.

I push up my hips to enjoy the friction against my eager dick.

Ana watches me, her lips parted as she traces my mouth with the tips of her fingers. She moves on, her fingers skimming over my jaw, down my neck, and to the base of my throat. Leaning down, her tender kisses trail where her fingers have been, grazing my jaw and my throat. I surrender to the sensation, closing my eyes and reclining my head with a moan. Her tongue continues its journey, down my sternum, across my chest, where she stops to kiss a couple of my scars.

Ana.

I want to bury myself deep inside her. Grasping her hips, I meet her dark eyes with a dark look of my own. “You want this? Here?” My voice is husky with need.

“Yes,” she murmurs, and dips her head once more, her lips and tongue teasing my nipple. She tugs it gently.

“Oh, Ana,” I breathe in awe as pleasure spikes through my body. I circle her waist, lift her clear, and quickly unbutton my jeans, open my fly, and push down my underwear so my cock springs free. I sit her down once more and she grinds against me.

Ah. I need to be inside her. Running my hands up her thighs, I pause at the top of her thigh-highs. I circle my thumbs against her warm flesh and move my hands further up, so I brush the damp seeping through her lace panties.

Ana gasps.

“I hope you’re not attached to your underwear,” I whisper, and my fingers slide inside her panties, touching her.

Damn. She’s soaking.

Ready for me.

I force my thumbs through the fabric and the material rips apart.

Yes!

I move my hands to her upper thighs and let my thumbs brush against her clitoris as I tighten my ass, searching for some friction against my cock. She slides over me. “I can feel how wet you are.”

You fucking goddess, Ana.

Sitting up, so we’re eye to eye once more, I wrap my arm around her waist and rub my nose to hers. “We’re going to take this slow, Mrs. Grey. I want to feel all of you.” And before she can argue with me, I lift her again, and gently lower her onto me and fill her, languidly. I close my eyes and relish each delicious inch of her.