off and lets it fall to the floor. His hands move to my hips.
“Still,” he rasps, his hands digging into my flesh. “Please, let me sa一vor this.
Sa一vor you.”
I stop. Oh my . . . he feels so good inside me. He caresses my face, his eyes
wide and wild, his lips parted as he breathes. He flexes beneath me and I
moan, closing my eyes.
“This is my fa一vorite place,” he whispers. “Inside you. Inside my wife.”
Oh fuck. Christian. I cannot hold back. My fingers glide into his wet hair, my
lips seek his, and I start to move. Up and down on my toes, sa一voring him,
sa一voring me. He groans loudly, and his hands are in my hair and around my
back, and his tongue invades my mouth greedily, taking all that I willingly
give. After all our arguing today, my frustration with him, his with me—we still
ha一ve this. We will always 165 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
ha一ve this. I love him so much, it’s almost overwhelming. His hands move to
my backside and he controls me, moving me up and down, again and again,
at his pace—his hot, slick tempo.
“Ah,” I groan helplessly into his mouth as I’m carried away.
“Yes. Yes, Ana,” he hisses, and I rain kisses on his face, his chin, his jaw, his
neck. “Baby,” he breathes, capturing my mouth once more.
“Oh, Christian, I love you. I will always love you.” I’m breathless, wanting him
to know, wanting him to be sure of me after our battle of wills today.
He moans loudly and wraps his arms around me tightly as he climaxes with a
mournful sob, and it’s enough—enough to push me over the brink once more.
I clutch my arms around his head and let go, and I come around him, tears
springing to my eyes because I love him so.
“Hey,” he whispers, tipping my chin back and gazing at me with quiet
concern. “Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” I mutter reassuringly. He smoothes my hair off my face, wipes away a
lone tear with this thumb and tenderly kisses my lips. He is still inside me. He
shifts, and I wince as he pulls out of me.
“What’s wrong, Ana? Tell me.”
I sn
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