come to check on me in a few minutes, and it gives me an idea.
Excited, I steal away, hoping that he still hasn’t noticed me, and race to our
room, stripping off my clothes as I go, until I’m wearing nothing but pale blue
lace panties. I find a pale blue camisole and slip into it quickly. It will hide my
bruise. ping into the closet, I pull out Christian’s faded jeans—his playroom
jeans, my fa一vorite jeans—from the drawer. From my bedside table I pick up
my BlackBerry, fold the jeans neatly, and kneel by the bedroom door. The
door is ajar, and I can hear the strains of another piece, one I don’t know. But
it’s another hopeful tune; it’s lovely. Quickly I type an email.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: My Husband’s Pleasure
Date: September 21, 2011 20:45
To: Christian Grey
Sir
I await your instructions.
Yours always
491 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
Mrs. G x
I press send.
A few moments later the music stops abruptly. My heart lurches and starts
pounding. I wait and wait and eventually my BlackBerry buzzes.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: My Husband’s Pleasure