e was Bradley, and he was my lab partner in physics.”
123 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
“And what’s he doing now?”
“I don’t know.”
“What base did he get to?”
“Christian!” I scold—and suddenly he grabs my knees, then my ankles, and
tips me up so I fall back on to the couch. He slides smoothly on top of me,
trapping me beneath him, one leg between mine. It’s so sudden that I cry out
in surprise. He grabs my hands and raises them above my head.
“So, this Bradley—did he get to first base?” he murmurs, running his nose
down the length of mine. He plants soft kisses at the corner of my mouth.
“Yes,” I murmur against his lips. He releases one of his hands so that he can
clasp my chin and hold me still while his tongue invades my mouth, and I
surrender to his ardent kissing.
“Like this?” Christian breathes when he comes up for air.
“No . . . nothing like that,” I manage, as all the blood in my body heads south.
Releasing my chin, he runs his hand down over my body and back up to my
breast.
“Did he do this? Touch you like this?” His thumb skims over my nipple,
through my camisole, softly, repeatedly, and it hardens under his expert
touch.
“No.” I writhe beneath him.
“Did he get to second base?” he murmurs in my ear. His hand moves down
across my ribs, past my waist to my hip. He takes my earlobe between his
teeth and gently tugs.
“No,” I breathe.
Mulder blurts from the television something about the FBI’s most unwanted.
Christian pauses, leans up, and presses mute on the remote. He gazes
down at me.
“What about Joe Schmo number two? Did he make it past second base?”
124 | P a g e
E L JAMES
His eyes are smoldering hot . . . angry? Turned on? It’s difficult to say which.
He shifts to my side and slides his hand beneath my sweatpants.
“No . . . ,” I whisper gazing up at him, trapped in his carnal gaze. Christian
smiles, wickedly.
“Good.” His hand cups my sex. “No underwear, Mrs. Grey. I approve.” He
kisses me again as his fingers wea一ve more magic,
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