Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,50

“Columbia Tower, please, Taylor.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mile High Club?” I suggest to Ana.

“Suits me.”

I clasp her hand.

“I did like her idea for opening up the view from the back of the house,” Ana says.

“Yes. Me, too, but we’re in no rush.”

She smiles once more. “I love your ivory tower.”

“I love having you there.”

Her eyes meet mine and her expression is suddenly serious. “I’m glad, because you’re about to commit to having me there for a lifetime.”

Whoa. I swallow.

This is huge.

A whole lifetime with Anastasia…will it be enough?

“Good point, well made, Miss Steele.”

And from nowhere I’m overwhelmed with a depth of feeling that has become all too familiar, but it’s still new and shiny and terrifying. I’m happier than I’ve ever been before—but I’m afraid, too.

It could all end.

Everything could come crashing down.

Life is ephemeral.

I know this. I’ve lived it.

From nowhere the image of a pale, still, young woman comes to mind. She’s lying on a grubby rug in a grubbier room as a small child tries in vain to shake her awake.

Shit.

The crack whore.

No. Don’t think about her!

Reaching over, I take Ana’s face between my hands, memorizing every detail: the shape of her nose, her full lower lip, her stunning eyes. I want her with me for a lifetime. I close my eyes and kiss her, pouring all my fear into her.

Don’t ever leave me.

Don’t die.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

What do you think Elliot has planned?” Ana is sprawled over me, her index finger making small circles through my chest hair. It’s a weird sensation, one that I’m not entirely comfortable with.

Enough.

I grab her hand, threading my fingers through hers, and plant a kiss on the tip of the offending digit.

“Too much?” she whispers.

I slide her finger into my mouth, clamping my teeth gently around her knuckle and teasing the tip with my tongue.

“Ah!” she coos, as a sensuous spark ignites in her eyes, and she tips her pelvis against my thigh.

Baby.

She tugs her hand and I relax my jaw but close my lips as she eases her finger out of my mouth.

She tastes mighty fine.

Tenderly she kisses the spot on my chest that her finger traced, while I stroke her hair and revel in this quiet moment. It’s early, and the only items on today’s agenda are my “bachelor party,” Ana’s bachelorette party, and a shopping excursion with Caroline Acton.

Ana raises her head. “Do you think he’ll take you to a…a…strip joint?”

A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “Strip joint?”

Ana giggles. “I don’t know what they’re called.”

I sigh and close my eyes, envisioning the hell that Elliot probably has planned. “Knowing Elliot, it’s a distinct possibility.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Ana replies, tartly.

I grin and, rolling over, press her into the mattress. “Why, Miss Steele, do you disapprove?” I run my nose down hers and she squirms beneath me.

“Deeply.”

“Jealous?”

She makes a face.

“I’d rather be here with you,” I reassure her.

“You’re not really a party animal, are you?” she says.

“No. More the loner.”

“I’ve figured this out.” Her teeth graze my chin.

“Could say the same about you,” I murmur.

“I’m the wallflower, nose-in-a-book type.”

I skim my lips from her ear to her throat. “You’re too beautiful to be a wallflower.”

She groans and runs her fingernails over my shoulder blades as her body rises to welcome mine. She’s still slick and wet from earlier, and I ease into her and we move together, slower and sweeter this time. Her nails dig into my back as she wraps her legs around mine and she raises her hips to meet me. Over and over. Slow and sweet. She’s building.

I stop.

“Christian, don’t stop. Please,” she begs.

I love it when you beg, baby.

I move slowly and grip her hair at her nape with both hands, so she cannot turn her head. I gaze down at her, marveling at the intricate color of her irises. I move again. Slowly. In. Out. And then stop once more.

“Christian, please,” she breathes.

“It will only ever be you, Ana. Always.”

Don’t be jealous.

“I love you.” I start once more. She closes her eyes and tips her head back and comes around me, triggering my own orgasm. With a cry, I fall to her side to catch my breath. When I resurface, I turn over and pull her to me, kissing her hair.

I love waking up to Ana.

Closing my eyes, I imagine every Saturday could be like this. Anastasia Steele has given me a meaningful future, something I’ve not considered with any seriousness before. And next Saturday, I get the piece of paper that proves