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

She’s bliss.

“Ah!” Ana moans, and grasps my arms. She tries to lift up, eager to begin, but I hold her in place and open my eyes again.

“All of me,” I murmur, and tilt my pelvis up, claiming all of her.

Ana lets out a strangled moan and throws her head back.

“Let me hear you,” I whisper. And she tries to rise again. “No—don’t move, just feel.” Her eyes spring open, and her mouth is agape in a fixed gasp of pleasure. She gazes at me, barely breathing, it seems. I drive into her once more, but hold her still. She groans while I bend my head to kiss her throat. “This is my favorite place. Buried in you,” I whisper to the pulse under her ear.

“Please, move,” she begs.

But I want to tease her.

Take it slow.

So she doesn’t hurt herself.

“Slow, Mrs. Grey.” I flex my ass one more, pushing into her, and she caresses my face and kisses me. Her tongue consuming me.

“Love me. Please, Christian.”

My resolve crumbles, and I skim her jaw with my teeth. “Go.”

I’m all yours, Ana.

She pushes me to the ground, and she starts to move, up and down. Fast, a little frantic. Taking all I have to give.

Oh God.

I grab her hands and complement her wild pace. Pushing up, again and again. Relishing the feel of her, enjoying the view, my wife, the blue sky behind her in the outdoors. “Oh, Ana.” I groan, surrendering completely to her rhythm. I close my eyes and move my hands up her thighs once more, to that precious point between them. There, I press both thumbs against her clitoris, and she cries out, exploding around me, in a gasping, rolling climax that tips me over the edge.

“Ana!” I cry as I succumb to my own heady orgasm.

When I open my eyes, she’s sprawled over me.

I cloak her in my arms, and we lie together. Still joined.

I’ve missed this.

Her hand is over my heart as it slows to its normal rhythm.

It’s weird. Not long ago I couldn’t have tolerated her hands on me.

Now, I crave her touch.

She kisses my chest.

And I kiss her hair. “Better?” I ask.

She raises her head, her grin reflecting mine.

“Much. You?”

I’m just grateful that she’s here and whole and still with me, after everything that’s happened. “I’ve missed you, Mrs. Grey.”

“Me, too.”

“No more heroics, eh?”

“No,” she breathes.

“You should always talk to me,” I insist in a soft voice.

“Back at you, Grey.”

“Fair point well made. I’ll try.” I kiss her again, smirking. She’s not taking any of my shit, as usual.

“I think we’re going to be happy here,” Ana says.

“Yep. You, me, and Blip. How do you feel, incidentally?”

“Fine. Relaxed. Happy.”

“Good.”

“You?”

“Yeah, all those things.” Deliriously happy, Ana.

She peers at me.

“What?” I ask.

“You know, you’re very bossy when we have sex.”

Oh. “Are you complaining?”

“No,” she says emphatically. “I’m just wondering. You said you missed it.”

And I wonder what she means for a moment.

Control? I need that. The playroom? What we do in there? A vision of her shackled to the four-poster, the Tallis ringing through the room, comes to mind. Or maybe the cross and a riding crop…the brown leather one. My memories go on and on, seducing me.

“Sometimes,” I whisper.

Yeah. Sometimes I miss it.

She smiles. “Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that.” She drops a kiss on my lips.

Oh. That sounds interesting.

“I like to play, too,” she says, and peeks shyly up at me.

Well. Well. Well. This perfect day just got a whole lot better.

“You know, I’d really like to test your limits,” I whisper.

“My limits for what?”

“Pleasure.”

“Oh, I think I’d like that.”

“Well, maybe when we get home.” I hug her gently, marveling at how much she means to me.

How much I love her.

Who knew I could fall so desperately and completely in love?

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Flynn is at a loss for words.

This might be a first.

I’ve given him an executive summary of all that has transpired since our last session. “So that’s why you came looking for me,” he mutters.

“Yes.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Well, first things first. How’s Ana?”

“She’s good. On the mend. Desperate to get back to work.”

“No PTSD?”

“I don’t think so. But it might be too early to tell.”

“I can recommend someone, if she needs a therapist.” He stops and taps his lip with his index finger. “Shall we take this in stages? Let’s start with the pregnancy, and your reaction.”

“Not my proudest moment.” I stare past him at a space on the wall, embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“No,” he agrees, far too readily. “How are you feeling about it now?”

Sighing, I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “Resigned. Excited. Scared. In about equal measure. I would have preferred if we’d waited. But now that Junior is on his way…well.” I shrug.

Flynn’s expression is sympathetic, I think. “You don’t truly learn what unconditional love is until you have a child.”