Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,61

this.” I pass it to her, and she does as she’s told. “All of it.”

She narrows her eyes and squints—I suspect to get me in focus. “You’ve done this before.”

“Yes. With you. Last time you were inebriated.”

She drains the glass and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Are you going to fuck me?”

“No. Not tonight.”

She frowns.

“Come.” I guide her to our bedroom suite, switch on the bedside lights from the wall, and release her by the bed. “Do you feel sick?”

“No!” she says emphatically.

That’s a relief. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

“No!”

“Turn around,” I demand.

She gives me a lopsided smile, and I remove the tiara.

“Turn around—let me unzip your dress.” I drag the ridiculous sash over her head.

“You are so good to me.” She lays her hand on my chest, splaying out her fingers.

“Enough. Turn around. I won’t ask you again.”

She grins. “There he is…”

Oh, baby.

I grasp her shoulders and gently turn her around so I can unfasten her dress. It obliges and falls immediately, pooling at her feet. She’s wearing a black lacy bra, matching panties, and a white garter. I undo her bra and step forward, bringing her body flush to mine, and I drag the straps down her arms. She rubs her ass against me and moves her hand behind her to fondle my more-than-interested dick.

Ana!

I allow myself a brief moment of pure pleasure and push my hips forward as her hand fumbles the length of my hardening cock.

Yes!

I drop her bra on the floor, move her hair aside, and run my lips down her neck. “Stop,” I whisper.

She continues to rub her hand over me. I groan and step back. Kneeling, I slip the garter—which I suspect came with the sash and tiara—and her panties down her legs, and kiss her behind. “Step.” She does, and I remove her underwear and gather her clothes together before pulling back the duvet. “Into bed.”

Now she turns around. “Join me,” she says with a provocative smile. She’s naked and lovely and wanton and tempting.

She’s also completely drunk.

“Get into bed. I’ll be back.”

She sways, sits down, then flops back on the bed, and I lift her feet onto the mattress and cover her up.

“Are you going to punish me?” she slurs.

“Punish you?”

“For getting this drunk. A punishment fuck. You can do anything you want to me,” she whispers, and holds out her arms.

Oh God.

A million erotic thoughts flit through my mind, and it takes all my willpower to lean over, gently plant a kiss on her forehead, and leave.

In the closet, which is still full of shopping bags from her earlier trip, I place her clothes in the laundry basket and strip out of my suit and shirt.

I drag on my PJs and a T-shirt and head into the bathroom.

While brushing my teeth I contemplate what I could do to a drunken Ana. She wants punishing? My thoughts do little to ease my erection.

“Pervert,” I mouth at my reflection.

I switch off the lights and head back into the bedroom. As I suspected, Ana is out cold, her hair spilling in all directions over the pillows. She looks lovely. I climb in beside her and roll onto my side to watch her sleep.

She’s going to have one helluva hangover in the morning.

Leaning over, I kiss her hair. “I love you, Anastasia,” I whisper, and I lay back and stare at the ceiling. I’m surprised that I’m not furious with her. No, I found her charming, and funny.

Maybe, I’m growing up. Finally.

I hope so. This time next week, I’ll be a married man.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

I hang up from my call with Troy Whelan, my banker. I’ve set up a joint account for me and Ana that will go live once she’s Mrs. Anastasia Grey. I’m not sure what she’ll ever need it for—but, if something happens to me… Jeez. If something happens to her…

My phone buzzes, distracting me from a slew of dark thoughts. “Mr. Grey, I have your mother on the line,” Andrea says.

I suppress a groan. “Put her through.”

“Will do. Here you go, sir.”

“Grace.”

“Darling. How are you?”

“I’m good. What is it?”

“Always so brusque. I’m checking up on you, that’s all. I talk to Ana more than you these days.”

“Well, I’m good. Still here. Still getting married. Thank you for all that you’ve done. Is there anything specific you want?”

She sighs. “No, darling. I’m looking forward to the rehearsal dinner, and having Ana stay with us the night before the wedding. And of course her mother