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

I wake suddenly, fear clawing at my throat.

Where am I?

Gasping, I suck precious air into my lungs and try to steady my racing heart. It takes me a moment to orient myself.

I’m on the Fair Lady. With my fair lady. I look frantically to my right, and Ana is fast asleep in the shadows beside me.

Thank heavens.

I’m immediately calmed, just by the sight of her.

I take a deep, cleansing breath.

Why am I having nightmares?

Arguing with Ana?

I hate fighting with her.

Judging by the light that’s seeping through the curtains over the portholes, it’s early dawn. I should sleep some more. I cuddle up to Ana, and put my arm around her, breathing in her unique calming fragrance…and I drift.

It’s much lighter in the cabin when I wake later, with Ana still slumbering beside me. I watch her for a few moments, enjoying this quiet time.

Will she ever really know what she means to me?

I kiss her hair, get up, and slip on a pair of swim trunks. I’m going for a swim around the boat. Maybe I can shake the unease that lingers.

As I shave, I’m still rattled by my nightmare.

Why? I don’t get it.

I’ve had these dreams before.

Why am I so hung up on this one, now?

The bathroom door opens and Ana stands before me, a ray of light, and I mute my dark thoughts. “Good morning, Mrs. Grey.” I welcome her with a cheery smile.

“Good morning yourself.” She grins and leans against the wall, raising her chin, imitating me as I shave under my jaw. From the corner of my eye, I watch her as she mimics my actions.

“Enjoying the show?” I ask.

“One of my all-time favorites.”

She’s forgiven me.

I lean over and kiss her, grateful that she’s with me, and leave a small smudge of shaving foam on her face. “Shall I do this to you again?” I whisper, brandishing my razor, recalling the moment when I shaved her in our suite at Brown’s Hotel.

Ana purses her lips. “No. I’ll wax next time.”

“But that was fun.”

You beguiled me, Ana.

“For you maybe.” She pouts, but there’s a spark of amusement and perhaps carnal appreciation in her eyes.

I see you, Ana.

“I seem to recall the aftermath was very satisfying.” I continue shaving, but Ana’s gone very quiet. “Hey, I’m just teasing. Isn’t that what husbands who are hopelessly in love with their wives do?” I tip her chin up and scrutinize her expression. Perhaps she’s still mad at me.

She squares her shoulders.

Uh-oh.

“Sit,” she orders.

What?

She splays her hands on my naked chest and pushes me gently toward a stool in the bathroom.

Okay, I’ll play. I sit down and she takes my razor.

“Ana,” I warn. But she ignores me and leans down and kisses me.

“Head back,” she says against my lips.

When I hesitate, she cocks her head to one side. “Tit for tat, Mr. Grey.” And I know she’s provoking me. How can I walk away from a challenge when my wife never does?

“You know what you’re doing?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

Well, what’s she going to do, Grey?

Slit my throat?

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and raise my chin, offering myself to her. She slides her fingers into my hair and grips hard while I scrunch my eyes tighter. She’s standing so close to me. I can smell her. Sea. Sunshine. Sex. Sweetness. Ana.

It’s heady.

With the utmost tenderness she glides my razor from my neck to my chin, shaving me. I release the breath I was holding.

“Did you think I was going to hurt you?” I hear the tremor in her voice.

“I never know what you’re going to do, Ana, but no—not intentionally.”

Sliding the razor across my skin again, she says quietly, “I would never intentionally hurt you, Christian.” She sounds so sincere. Opening my eyes, I curl my arms around her as she shaves my cheek.

“I know,” I whisper.

She hurt me when she left, that one time.

And I deserved it. I hurt her.

You are one fucked-up son of a bitch!

Grey, don’t go there.

I angle my cheek, making it easier for her to finish the job, and two strokes of the razor later, she’s completed her work. “All done, and not a drop of blood spilled.” She beams at me.

I run my hands up her leg and ease her onto my lap until she’s sitting astride me. “Can I take you somewhere today?”

“No sunbathing?” Ana’s tone is disingenuous, but I ignore it.

“No. No sunbathing today. I thought you might prefer something else.”

“Well, since you’ve covered me in hickeys and effectively put the kibosh on that, sure, why not?”

Hickeys? We’re not in high school!

“You never really had an adolescence—emotionally speaking. I think you’re experiencing it now.”

Hell.

Ignoring Flynn’s words and Ana’s reference to my bad behavior, I continue, “It’s a drive, but it’s worth a visit, from what I’ve read. My dad recommended we visit. It’s a hilltop village called Saint-Paul-de-Vence. There are some galleries there. I thought we could pick out some paintings or sculptures for the new house, if we find anything we like.”