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

Ana grabs my hand and slowly draws my finger out of her mouth.

“There, there,” she whispers, and pouts prettily and blows gently on my smarting skin.

Oh.

She might as well be blowing on my dick.

She kisses my knuckle, twice, then slowly reinserts my digit into her mouth, her tongue cradling and sucking me.

She might as well be sucking my dick.

Lust surges like a tidal wave, south.

Ana.

As she fellates my finger her forehead creases.

“What are you thinking?” I whisper, as I draw my finger out of her mouth and attempt to bring my body under control.

“How mercurial you are.”

This is not news. “Fifty Shades, baby.” I plant a kiss at the corner of her mouth.

“My Fifty Shades.” She grabs my T-shirt and tugs me closer.

“Oh, no you don’t, Mrs. Grey. No touching. Not yet.” I pry her hand from my shirt and kiss each of her fingers. “Sit up.” Ana pouts. “I will spank you if you pout.”

I stick a fork into the lamb dish, then into the accompanying sauce of yogurt and mint. “Now open wide.” She opens her mouth and I slide a forkful between her lips.

“Hmm,” she hums in appreciation.

“You like?”

“Yes.”

I try some, too, and it’s a party of delicious flavors in my mouth. I realize how hungry I am. “More?” I ask Ana. She nods, and I feed her another forkful. While she’s chewing, I tear some of the pita bread and dip it into the hummus. “Open.” Ana indulges me and eats this latest morsel with enthusiasm.

I join her.

This really is the best hummus in Seattle.

“More?” I ask.

She nods. “More of everything. Please. I’m starving.”

Her words are music to my soul. I feed her and myself, alternating between the bread and hummus and the lamb. Ana is lapping it up, thoroughly enjoying the feast, and it’s a pleasure to watch her savor the food and to feed her. Occasionally I offer her more wine, using my tried-and-trusted mouth-to-mouth technique.

When the lamb is finished, I turn to the stuffed grape leaves. “Open wide, then bite.”

She does. “I love these,” she mumbles with a full mouth.

“I agree. They’re delicious.”

When I finish feeding her, she licks my fingers clean. One by one. “More?” My voice is husky.

She shakes her head.

“Good,” I murmur against her ear, “because it’s time for my favorite course. You.” I pick her up suddenly and she squeaks with surprise.

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

“No. Playroom.” Ana stills in my arms while I cradle her to my chest. “You up for the challenge?” I ask.

“Bring it on,” she says, as I knew she would. She feels a little lighter in my arms as I carry her upstairs. “I think you’ve lost weight,” I mutter. She smiles, pleased, I think. Outside the playroom, I slide her down my body and onto her feet, keeping my arm around her waist while I unlock the door. I usher her inside, turning on the lights as we enter.

In the middle of the room, I release her, undo the scarf, and slowly draw the hairpins from her bun, freeing her braid. Grasping it as it swings between her shoulder blades, I tug gently so she steps back against me. “I have a plan,” I whisper in her ear.

“I thought you might,” she answers, as I kiss that spot beneath her ear where her pulse beats.

“Oh, Mrs. Grey, I do.” Still holding her braid, I tilt Ana’s head, exposing her neck, and skim my lips down her throat. “First we have to get you naked.” When I turn her around, her eyes flit down to the unfastened top button on my jeans. Before I can stop her, she inserts her finger into the waistband, teasing the hair at the base of my belly.

Ah!

She glances up at me from behind long lashes. “You should keep these on,” she says.

“I fully intend to, Anastasia.” I fold her in my arms, one hand at her neck, the other splayed on her backside, and I kiss her, my tongue testing and tasting her. While we kiss, I walk her backward until she’s against the playroom cross, where I press my body into hers. Her lips are greedy, her tongue as eager as mine. I pull back. “Let’s get rid of this dress.” I grasp the hem and slowly divest her of her dress, revealing her body an inch at a time as I peel it off. “Lean forward,” I say, and she complies. The dress ends up on the floor as my wife stands before me in her seductive lingerie and her sandals. Threading my fingers through hers, I raise her hands over her head and incline mine in a question.

Restraints, Ana?

Her gaze is intense, missing nothing. I bathe in it, feeling it in my groin. She swallows and then nods.

My sweet girl. She never lets me down.