Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian novel Chapter 180

“Control,” I repeat, and grabbing her hips, I drive into her.

She cries out again.

And I still.

Reveling in her.

This is where I want to be.

My happy place.

Leaning forward, I unclip each cuff in turn so she’s free, and pull her fully onto my lap, driving deeper inside her.

Ana. I wrap my arm around her and caress her jaw, enjoying the feel of her back against my front.

“Move.” I whisper my demand in her ear.

She moans and rises on my lap, then back down.

Too slow.

“Faster,” I order.

And she moves. Fast. Faster. Faster still. Taking me with her.

Ah, baby.

This is heaven.

The feel of her.

I ease her head back, kissing her throat as my other hand skims down her body, caressing her skin. From her hip I trail my fingers down to cup her vulva. She whimpers as I brush my fingers against her already-sensitized clitoris. “Yes. Ana. You are mine. Only you.”

“Yes,” she cries out, and I can’t believe she’s so close. Her readiness fuels my desire. She tips her head back.

And the first shocks are there. “Come for me,” I whisper.

She lets go, and I hold her still while I ride out her orgasm.

“Christian!” she calls, my name tipping me over the edge.

“Oh, Ana, I love you.” I groan, and I come, all the tension from earlier spiraling out of my body as I find my release.

We lie sprawled together, and we’re a tangle of limbs and cuffs. I kiss her shoulder and stroke her hair from her face before propping myself up on my elbow. While I knead her backside where I smacked her, I ask, “Does that make the list, Mrs. Grey?”

“Hmm.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Hmm.” Her lips lift in a glorious smile.

I grin. She’s incoherent.

Job done, Grey.

I kiss her shoulder again and she rolls over to face me. “Well?” I ask.

“Yes. It makes the list.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “But it’s a long list.”

She makes me feel ten feet tall.

My earlier anger is forgotten.

Thank you, Ana. I kiss her. “Good. Shall we have dinner?”

She nods and her fingers dance over my chest. “I want you to tell me something.” Sincere, curious blue eyes meet mine.

“What?”

“Don’t get mad.”

“What is it, Ana?”

“You do care.” She says the words with such compassionate sincerity that all the air is sucked from my lungs. “I want you to admit that you care. Because the Christian I know and love would care.”

Why does she do this?

From nowhere images of Leila, and Susannah, and the rest of my subs cloud my brain. All that we did. All that they did. For me. All that I did, and do for them.

Leila broken and filthy.

Hell.

That was torture. I wouldn’t want her or any of them to experience that. Ever.

“Yes. Yes, I care. Happy?”

Ana’s eyes soften. “Yes. Very.”

I frown. “I can’t believe I’m talking to you now, here in our bed, about—”

She places a finger on my lips. “We’re not. Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

I sigh and shake my head.

This woman confounds me. In every way.