I skim the small callous that has
already formed on his palm beneath the ring. He leans forward and cups my
chin with his other hand.
“Mrs. Grey, are you seducing me?”
“I hope so.”
“Anastasia, I’m a given.” His voice is low. “Come here.” He tugs my hand so
that I’m pulled from my seat onto his lap. “I like ha一ving unfettered access to
you.” He runs a hand up my thigh to my behind. He grasps the nape of my
neck with his other hand and kisses me, holding me firmly in place.
He tastes of white wine and apple pie and Christian. I run my fingers through
his hair, holding him to me while our tongues explore and curl and twist
around each other, my blood heating in my veins. We’re breathless when
Christian pulls away.
“Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Bed?”
He pulls back further and tugs my hair so I am looking up at him.
“Where would you prefer, Mrs. Grey?”
365 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
My inner goddess stops stuffing her face with tarte Tatin. I shrug, feigning
indifference. “Surprise me.”
He smirks. “You’re feisty this evening.” He runs his nose along mine.
“Maybe I need to be restrained.”
“Maybe you do. You’re getting mighty bossy in your old age.” He narrows his
eyes, but can’t disguise the latent humor there.
“What are you going to do about it?” I challenge.
His eyes glitter. “I know what I’d like to do about it. Depends if you’re up to it.”
“Oh, Mr. Grey, you’ve been very gentle with me these last couple of days. I’m
not made of glass, you know.”
“You don’t like gentle?”
“With you, of course. But you know . . . variety is the spice of life.”
I bat my lashes at him.
“You’re after something less gentle?”
“Something life-affirming.”
He raises his brows in surprise. “Life-affirming,” he repeats, astonished
humor in his voice.
I nod. He gazes at me for a moment. “Don’t bite your lip,” he whispers then
rises suddenly with me in his arms. I gasp and grab his biceps, fearful that
he’ll drop me. He walks over to the smallest of the three couches and
deposits
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