Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian novel Chapter 36

Ana whips her eyes to mine and her lips part as she gazes at me. We’re inches from each other. Not touching. But I feel her. All of her. The silence between us gets louder, expanding to fill the space surrounding us as we each drink the other in.

Suddenly, there’s no oxygen in the vast room. There’s only us, only our desire, crackling invisibly between us. I see it in the summer of her eyes. Her pupils growing wider. Darker. Reflecting my thirst. My love. Our love.

“You’ve been so distant.” Her voice is barely audible. “All weekend.”

“No. Not distant. Afraid.”

“No!” she says in a quiet rush of tenderness. She closes the gap between us without moving. Reaching up, her fingertips skim over my stubble, her touch echoing through my every bone and sinew.

I close my eyes as my body responds.

Ana.

Her fingers are at my shirt, undoing the buttons. “Don’t be afraid,” she breathes, and places a kiss on one of my scars above my pulsing heart. I can bear no more: I cup her face and bring her lips to mine, kissing her ferociously. She’s a banquet for a starving man. She tastes of love and lust and Ana.

“Let’s go. Now. Vegas. Get married,” I implore against her fevered lips. “We can tell everyone we couldn’t wait.” She moans and I kiss her again, taking all she’s got to give, drowning in her desire, drowning in her love, aching for her, desperate for her.

When she pulls back we’re both dragging air into our lungs, her dazed eyes on me. “If that’s what you want,” she says, breathless and brimming with compassion.

I crush her to me.

She’d do this for me.

She won’t obey…but she’ll do this.

Damn.

And I know I have to give her a wedding she deserves. Not some rushed affair in a chapel of love in Vegas. My girl deserves the best.

“Come to bed,” I whisper in her ear, and she laces her fingers into my hair as I lift her into my arms.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she says, and I carry her into the bedroom.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Wake up, sleepy head.” Gently I tug Ana’s earlobe with my teeth.

“Hmm…” She groans and refuses to open her eyes. I tug again. “Ah!” she gripes and her eyes flutter open.

“Good morning, Miss Steele.”

“Good morning.” She reaches up to stroke my face. I’m fully dressed and lying stretched out beside her.

“Sleep well?” I kiss her palm.

She gives me a sleepy nod.

“I have a surprise.”

“Oh?”

“Up.” I slide off the bed.

“What surprise?”

“If I told you…”

She slides her head to one side, unimpressed. She needs an answer.

“Floating above the Pacific Northwest?”

She gasps and sits up immediately. “Soaring?” she asks.

“The very same.”

“We can chase the”—she glances out of the window—“rain?” She looks crestfallen.

“It’s sunnier where we’re going.”

“Then we can chase the midday sun!”

“We can. If you get up!”

She squeals with delight and scrambles out of bed, all haste and long limbs. She stops to give me a swift chaste kiss before dashing into the bathroom.

“It should be warm,” I call after her with a huge grin. I think she’s pleased.

As we speed down I-90 in the R8, fleeing the dreary weather, I allow myself the luxury of being in the moment. My girl is beside me, The Killers are on the sound system, and we’re going soaring, in my new sailplane. All is right in the world.

Flynn would be proud.

Of course, we’re being followed by Sawyer and Reynolds, but a guy can’t have everything.

“Where are we going?” Ana asks, peering through the drizzle.

“Ephrata.”

From the corner of my eye I see she’s perplexed. “It’s about two and a half hours away. It’s where I keep my sailplanes.”

“You have more than one?”

“Two. Now.”