o!” he cries out again.
“Christian, wake up.” I struggle to sit up, kicking off the sheet. Kneeling
beside him, I grab his shoulders and shake him as tears spring to my eyes.
“Christian, please. Wake up!”
His eyes spring open, gray and wild, his pupils enlarged with fear. He stares
vacantly up at me.
“Christian, you’re ha一ving a nightmare. You’re home. You’re safe.”
He blinks, looks around frantically, and frowns as he takes in our
surroundings. Then his eyes are back on mine. “Ana,” he breathes, and with
no preamble whatsoever he reaches up with both hands, grabbing my face,
and pulls me down onto his chest and kisses me. Hard. His tongue invades
my mouth, and he tastes of desperation and need. Barely giving me a
chance to breathe, he rolls over, his lips locked to mine, so that he’s pressing
me into the four-poster’s hard mattress. One of his hands clasps my jaw, the
other spreads out on top of my head, keeping me still as his knee parts my
legs and he nestles, still clothed in his jeans, between my thighs.
“Ana,” he gasps, as if he can’t believe I’m there with him. He gazes down at
me for a split second, allowing me a moment to breathe. Then his lips are on
mine again, plundering my mouth, taking all I ha一ve to give. He groans loudly,
flexing his hips into me. His erection sheathed 241 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
in denim pushes into my soft flesh. Oh . . . I moan, and all the pent-up sexual
tension of earlier erupts, resurfacing with a vengeance, flushing my system
with desire and need. Driven by his demons, he urgently kisses my face, my
eyes, my cheeks, along my jaw.
“I’m here,” I whisper, trying to calm him, our heated, panting breath mingling. I
wrap my arms around his shoulders, as I grind my pelvis against his in
welcome.
“Oh, Ana,” he pants, his voice rough and low. “I need you.”
“Me, too,” I whisper urgently, my body desperate for his touch. I want him. I
want him now. I want to heal him. I want to heal me . . . I need this. His hand
reaches down and tu
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