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

“That’s better,” I whisper, my earlier pique forgotten.

“Mr. Grey, as much as I like you in a suit, you seem to be overdressed.” Gone is her anxiety—her eyes shine up at me, full of teasing desire. It’s arousing.

“Well, I’ll have to see what I can do about that, Miss Steele.”

She bites down on her lower lip and runs her fingers down between her breasts. Her nipples are rosy, erect and ready. For my mouth.

It takes all my willpower not to rip off my clothes and bury myself in her. Instead, I grab the knot of my tie and gently tug it so it slowly unravels. Once it’s loose, I toss it on the floor and undo the top button on my shirt.

Ana’s mouth opens in a sexy, appreciative gasp.

Next, I shrug off my jacket and let it fall to floor, where it lands with a soft thud. I think that’s my phone. But I ignore the sound and yank the hem of my shirt from my pants.

“Off or on?” I ask.

“Off. Now. Please.” Ana doesn’t hesitate.

I grin and ease my left cuff link from its place, then repeat the process with the right cuff.

Ana squirms on the bed.

“Keep still, baby,” I whisper while I undo the lowest button on my shirt, then move my fingers up to the next, and the next, my eyes not leaving hers. When my shirt is undone, it follows the way of my jacket, and I grasp my belt. Ana’s eyes widen and we drink each other in. I drag the end through the belt loop and undo the buckle, and as slow as I can I tug my belt free.

Ana angles her head slightly, watching me, and I notice the rise and fall of her breasts increases as her breathing accelerates.

I fold the belt in half and let it slide between my fingers.

Oh, Ana…what I’d like to do with this.

Her hips rise and fall, too.

I tug both ends of my belt so it snaps against itself, with a sharp crack. She doesn’t flinch, but I know she hasn’t signed up for this, so I drop it on the floor. She forces out a shallow breath, looking both relieved and maybe a little disappointed—I don’t know. But now’s not the time to think about that. I step out of my shoes and dispense with my socks, then undo the button on my pants and slide down the fly.

“Ready?” I ask.

“And waiting.” Her voice is husky with lust. “But I’m enjoying the floor show.”

I grin and drop my pants and boxer briefs, freeing my straining cock. Kneeling on the floor, I trail kisses up the inside of her calf, to her thigh, along the line of her pubic hair, up to her navel, to each of her breasts, until I’m hovering over her, poised and ready.

“I love you,” I whisper, and ease into her, kissing her at the same time.

She groans. “Christian.”

And I start to move. Slowly. Savoring her. My sweet, sweet Ana. My love.

She wraps her legs around me, her fingers diving into my hair and tugging hard.

“I love you, too,” she purrs in my ear and moves with me, so we’re in sync.

Together.

Us.

As one.

And when she falls apart in my arms, she takes me with her.

“Ana!”

She nuzzles my chest and I tense, waiting for the darkness, so she stops and raises her head. “As much as I liked your impromptu striptease and its aftermath, are you going to give me the weather report that you mentioned in your missives, and tell me what’s wrong?”

I trail my fingertips up and down her back. “Can we eat first?”

She smiles. “Yes. I’m hungry. And maybe I need another shower.”

I grin. “I like making you dirty.” I sit up and slap her backside. “Up! I told Gail we’d be half an hour.”

“You did?” Ana is scandalized.

“I did.” I grin.

Mrs. Jones’s Thai green curry is delicious, as is the glass of Chablis we’re enjoying with it. “So, the initial report came back from the FAA, and it will go public at some point.”

“Oh?” Ana looks up from her meal.

“It appears that Charlie Tango was tampered with.”

“Sabotage?”

“Exactly. I’ve upped our security arrangements until we nail who’s responsible. And I think it’s better if you stay here for now.”

She nods, her eyes round with alarm.

“We have to be vigilant.”

“Okay.”

I arch a brow.

“I can do that,” she adds hastily.

Good. That was easy.

But she looks stricken.

“Hey, don’t worry,” I murmur. “I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s you.”

“Taylor and his people are all over this. Don’t worry.”

She frowns and places her fork on her plate.

“And don’t stop eating.”

Ana toys with her bottom lip and I reach across to clutch her hand. “Ana. It’s going to be okay. Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I change the subject, hoping to move us to a safer topic. “How was Bastille?”