18 | P a g e
E L JAMES
“Clothes,” I whisper, our breath mingling as I push back his vest and he
struggles out of it, releasing me for a moment. He pauses, gazing at me,
eyes wide, eyes wanting.
“Let me, please.” My voice is soft and cajoling. I want to undress my
husband, my Fifty.
He sits back on his heels, and leaning forward I grasp his tie—his sliver-gray
tie, my fa一vorite tie—and slowly undo it and pull it free. He raises his chin to let
me tackle the top button of his white shirt; then once it’s undone, I move on to
his cuffs. He’s wearing platinum cufflinks—engra一ved with an entwined A and
C—my wedding present to him. When I’ve removed them, he takes the
cufflinks from me and fists them in his hand. Then he kisses his fist and
shoves them into his pants pocket.
“Mr. Grey, so romantic.”
“For you Mrs. Grey—hearts and flowers. Always.”
I take his hand, and glancing up through my lashes, I kiss his plain platinum
wedding ring. He groans and closes his eyes.
“Ana,” he whispers and my name is a prayer.
Reaching up to his second shirt button, and mirroring him from earlier, I plant
a soft kiss on his chest as I undo each of them and whisper between each
kiss,
“You. Make. Me. So. Happy. I. Love. You.”
He groans, and in one swift move he clasps me around the waist and lifts me
on to the bed, following me down on to it. His lips find mine, his hands curling
around my head, holding me, stilling me as our tongues glory in each other.
Abruptly Christian kneels up, lea一ving me breathless and wanting more.
“You are so beautiful . . . wife.” He runs his hands down my legs then grasps
my left foot. “You ha一ve such lovely legs. I want to kiss every inch of them.
Starting here.” He presses his lips against my big toe and then grazes the
pad with his teeth. Everything south of my waistline convulses. His tongue
glides up my instep and his teeth skim my heel and up to my ankle. He trails
kisses up the inside of my calf; soft wet kisses. I wriggle beneath him.
“Still, Mrs. Grey,”
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