"Good." He grins.
"I thought you were going to Taiwan."
He snorts again. "Ana, you were in the hospital."
"Oh."
"Yeah — oh. So today I'm spending some quality time with my wife." He
smacks his lips together as he lakes a sip of coffee.
"Quality lime?" 1 can't disguise I he hope in my oiee.
Mrs. Jones places my scrambled eggs in front of me. again failing to hide her
smile.
Christian smirks. "Quality time." He nods.
I am loo hungry to 11 in anymore with my husband.
"It's good to see you eat," he murmurs. Rising, he leans over and kisses my
"I in . - . can 1 come and scrub your hack'.'" i mumble through a moiilh full of
toast and scrambled egg.
"No. Eat."
Leaving the breakfast bar. lie lugs his T-shirt oer hi - head, treating me to the
sight of his finely sculptured shoulder* and naked back as he saunters out of the
great room. I stop mid-chew lie's doing litis on purpose. Why?
Christian is relaxed on the drive north. We've just left Ray and Mr. Rodriguez
watching soccer on the new flat-screen television that I suspect Christian has
bought tor Ra 's hospital room.
Christian hits been laid back ccr since ""the talk." It's as ifa weight litis been
lifted; Mrs. Robinson's shadow no longer looms so large over us, maybe because
I've decided to let it go — or because he has, I don't know. But I feel closer to him
he continues to do so. And he's more accepting of the baby, too. He hasn't gone
otti and bought a crib yet. but 1 have high hopes.
I gaze at him, drinking him in as tic drives, lie looks casual, cool . . . sc.>
with his tousled hair. Rav-Bans. pinstripe jacket white linen shirt, and jeans.
He glances at me and clasps tn> leg above the knee, his fingers stroking
gently. "I'm glad you didn't change."
I did slip on a di it t ind chan lit I but I'm till wearing the short
skirt. 1 lis hand lingers above my knee. I put my hand on his.
"Arc vou going to continue to tease me'.'"
"Maybe." Christian smiles.
"Why?"
"Because I can." He grins, boyish as ever.
"Two can play at that game," I whisper.
His lingers move tantalizingly up my thigh. "Bring it on, Mrs. Grey." His
grin broadens.
I pick up his hand and put it back on his knee. "Well, you can keep your
hands to yourself."
He smirks. "As you wish, Mrs. Grey."
Dammit. This game is going to backfire on me.
Christian turns into the driveway of our new house. He stops at the keypad and
punches in a numbei i male while metal n p ll)
tree-lined lane under lea es that arc a blend of green. ellow . and burnished cop-
per. The tall grass in the meadow is turning gold, but there are still a few yellow
wildflowcrs dotted among the grass. It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining, and
the salty tang of the Sound is in the air mixed with the scent of the coming fall.
This is such a tranquil and beautiful place. And to think we're going lo make our
home here.
The lane curves around, and our house comes into iew . Several large trucks,
sides emblazoned with Grey CONSTRUCTION, are parked out front. The house is
decked in scaffolding, and several workmen m ha id hals are busy on the roof.
C hrislian pulls up outside the portico and switches off the engine. I can sense
his excitement.
"Let's go find Elliot."
"Is he here?"
1 snort, and Christian grins as we get out of the car.
"Up here!" He's up on the roof, waving down at us and beaming from ear to
ear. "About time we saw you here. Stay where you are. I'll be right down."
I glance at Christian, who shrugs lev minutes later. Elliot appears at the
front door.
"Hey, bro." He shakes Christian's hand. "And how are you, little lady?" He
picks me up and swings me around.
him, but Elliot ignores him.
"Let's head over to the site office. You'll need one of these." He taps his hard
The ho .1 i shel The doors ire i weed in i h no I hi us in iU ri it that
looks like burlap some of tin origit T ills have di ippea d and new ones have
taken their place. Elliot leads as through, explaining what'-, happening, while
men — and a few women — work everywhere around us. I'm relieved to see the
stone staircase with its intricate iron balustrade is still in place and draped com-
pletely in white dustsheets.
In the main living area, the back wall has been removed to make way for
Gia's glass wall, and work is beginning on the terrace. In spite of the mess, the
view is still stunning rhe new work is s> mp;ilhelic and in keeping with the old-
world charm of the house . . . Gia's done well. Elliot patiently explains the pro-
cesses and gives us a rough timeframe for each. He's hoping we can be in by
Christmas, although Christian thinks this is optimistic.
Holy cow — Chi i ti 1 I 1 cm t wait. A bubble of ex-
citement blooms inside me i ha e isions of us trimming an enormous tree while
a copper-haired little boy looks on in wonder.
Flliol finishes our lour in the kite hen. "I'll lca e you l o to roam. Be careful.
This is a building site."
"Sure. Thanks, lilliol." Christian murmurs, iaking my hand. "Happy'.'" he
asks once Elliot has left us alone. I am gazing at this empty shell of a room and
wondering where i w di hang tile pepper pictures that we bought in France.
"Very. I love it. You?"
"Ditto." He grins.
"Good. I was thinking • die peppe pit inhere
Christian nods. "I want to put up Jose's portraits of you in this house. You
need to decide where they should go."
"Don't be like Ih a I le scold aus ng I huml i -loss my bottom lip.
"Worse things to do than look at your beautiful smiling face all day.
"Hungry for what?" I whisper.
I le smirks, his e> e . darkening. I lope anil desire unfurl in my veins.
"Food. Mrs. Grey." And he plants a swift kiss on my lips.
1 c him my fai ut and si 1 II i>s I'm a liungn
"The three of us can have a picnic."
"Three of us? Is someone joining us?"
Christian cocks his head to one side. "In about se en or eight months."
Oh . . . Blip. I grin goofily at him.
"I thought you might like to cat al fresco."
"In the meadow?" I ask.
"This will be a great place to raise a family," he murmurs, gazing down at
Family! More than one'.' Dare 1 mention this now?
He spreads his fingers over my belly. Holy shit. I hold my breath and place
my hand over his.
"It's hard to belic e." lie w hispers. and for the first lime I hear wonder in his
"I know. Oh — here, I have evidence. A picture."
"You do? Baby's first smile?"
I pull oul the ultrasound of Blip from my w allet.
"See?"
r several seconds. "Oh . . . Blip.
"Our child." He counters.
"First of many."
"Many?" Christian's eyes « iden w ill) alarm.
"Two?" He tests the word. "Can we just take this one child at a time?"
We head back outside into the warm fall afternoon.
"When are you going to tell your folks?" Christian asks.
uez was there." I shrug.
t hrislian nods and opens the hood of the R8. Inside are a wicker picnic bas-
ket and the tartan blanket we bought in London.
"Come," he says, taking the basket and blanket in one hand and holding the
oilier oul lo me. Together e w alk into the meadow.
"Sure, Ros, go for it." Christian hangs up. That's the third call he's taken during
our picnic. He's kicked off his shoes .aid ^icks. and is watching me, arms on his
raised knees. His jacket lies discarded cm top of mine, as we're warm in the sun. I
lie beside him, stretched out on the picnic blanket, both of us surrounded by tall
golden and green grass far from the noise at the house and hidden from the prying
eyes of the construction workers. c are in our o n bucolic haven. He feeds me
another strawberry, and I chew and suck it gratefully, gazing at his darkening
"Tasty?" lie w hispers.
"Very."
"Had enough?"
"Of strawberries, yes."
His ees glitter dangerousK . and he grins "Mrs. Junes packs a mighty fine
"That she does," I whisper.
Shiftin s ddc i 1 I i ill I ni belly. He closes
his eyes and seems content. I tangle my fingers in his hair.
He sighs heavily, then scowls and checks the number on the screen of his
buzzing BlackBern. lie rolls his c>cs and takes the call.
"Welch," he snaps. He tenses, listens for a second or two, then suddenly bolts
upright.
IM n hi i I th and hangs up. The chair i
his mood is instant, (lone is m leasing, flirtatious husband, replaced by a cold,
leulating i 1 i ill cinivei II i 1 1 his c or a moment the i
me a cool, chilling smile A slmcr runs down m> back, lie picks up his Black-
Berry and presses a speed dial.
My scalp prickles. Oh no, what 's this?
"So, consolidate the shares into GEH, then fire the board . . . except the
CEO ... I don't give a fuck ... I hear you, just do it . . . thank you . . . keep me
nl rm < 1 1 c I n g s p in iik ii] i el o moment.
Holy shit! Christian is mad.
"What's happened?"
"Line," he murmurs.
"Line? Elena's ex?"
"The same. He's the one who posted Hyde's bail."
I gape at Christian in shock. His mouth is pressed in a hard line.
"Well— he'll look like an idiot," I murmur, dismayed. "I mean, Hyde com-
mitted another crime while out on bail."
Christian's eyes narrow and I v.- smirks. "Fair point well made, Mrs. Grey."
"What did you just do?" I kneel, facing him.
"I fucked him over."
"I'm an in-the-moment kind of guy."
"I'm aware of that."
His eyes narrow and his lips thin. "I' e had this plan in m back pocket lor a
while," he says dryly.
I frown. "Oh?"
II ; nit t igh something in I ind. then lal t deep breal
"Several years bat ten c t 01 Lin be h s wife to a pulp. He
brokchcr jaw.hu in an a i out * I h it bei t i t 11 His
eyes harden. "And now I learn he posted bail for a man who tried to kill me, kid-
"Ana, this is what I do. I'm not usually motivated by revenge, but I cannot let
him get away with this. What he did to Elena . . . well, she should have pressed
charges, but she didn't. That was her prerogative.
"But he's scrioush crossed the line with Hyde. Line's made this personal b>
his nose, and sell ll hesl bidder. 1 ai I i i
Oh...
"Besides." Christian smirks. - e'll make good mone out of the deal."
I i mi blazing gt hat lien suddenly.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," he whispers.
"You didn't," I lie.
He arches a brow, amused.
"You just took me by surprise," 1 whisper, then swallow. Christian is really
quite scary sometimes.
He brushes his lips against mine. "'I will do anything to keep you safe. Keep
my family safe. Keep this little one safe," he murmurs and splays his hand out
over my belly in a gentle caress.
Oh ... I stop breathing. Christian gazes down at me, his eyes darkening. I lis
lips part as he inhales and, in a deliberate move, the tips of his fingers brush
against my sex.
Holy shit. Desire dolomite* like an incendiary de iee igniting my blood-
stream. I grasp his Ik 1. my i'ii in ing into his hair, an Uu hard so my lips
find his. He gasps, snrpri *cd h> m assault. gi ing my tongue free passage into his
mouth. He groans and kisses me back, his lips and tongue hungry for mine, and
lor a moment we consume each other, lost in tongues and lips and breaths and
sweet, sweet sensation as w e rediscover each other.
Oh, 1 want this man. it's been too long. I want him here. now . in the open air.
in our meadow.
"Ana." he breathes, entranced, and his hand skims over my backside to the
hem of my skirt. I scramble to unbutton his shirt, all fingers and thumbs.
"Whoa, Ana — stop." He pulls hack, has jaw clenched, and grabs my hands.
"No." My teeth clamp gently around his lower lip and I tug. "No," I murmur
again, gazing at him. I release him. "I want you."
lie inhales sharply It on indecisiot ril large in luminous gray eyes
"Please, I need you." Every pore of my being is begging. This is what we do.
He groans in defeat as his mouth finds mine, molding my lips to his. One
hand cradles my head v. hile the other skims down my body to my waist, and he
eases me onto my b i k and slret i u ireaking contact with
He pulls back, luwcring ocr me and gazing down. "You are so beautiful,
Mrs. Grey."
Ik i ind my fin Hi he fun n his brow
"Don't frown. You are to me, even when you're angry," I whisper.
I le groans once more, and his mouth captures mine, pushing me into the soft
grass beneath the blanket.
"I've missed you," he whispers, and his teeth graze my jaw. My heart soars.
"I've missed you. too. Oh. C hristian." I fist one hand in his hair and clutch
his shoulder with the other.
His lips move io my throai. leaving lender kisses in their wake, and his lin-
gers follow, deftly undoing each, button of my blouse Tugging my blouse apart,
he kisses the soft swell of my breasts. He murmurs appreciatively, low in his
throat, and the sound echoes through m> hods to my deep dark places.
"Your body's changing." lie whispers. His thumb leases ins nipple until it's
erect and straining against my bra. "1 like," he adds. I watch his tongue taste and
trace the line between my bra and my breast, tantalizing and teasing me. Taking
my bra cup delicatels between ins teeth, lie pulls il dossn. freeing my breast and
nuzzling my nipple with his nose in the process. It puckers at his touch and from
the chill of the gentle fall breeze. I lis lips close around me. and he sucks long and
"Ah!" I groin nhal harpls then in t t h itcs outward from
my bruised ribs.
Ant 1 ( hristian is and glares do 1 i neern etched on his
face. "This is what I'm talking about," he admonishes. "Your lack of sclf-preser-
alion. I don't v. am to hurl you."
"No . . . don't stop," I whimper. He stares at me, warring with himself.
"Here." Abrupt I he mo .. an- I a silting islt dc him ms short skirt now
"There. Thai's heller, and I can enjos the s lev. ." I Ie reaches up and hooks his
my breasts, and I throw my head back, pushing them into his welcome, expert
hands. He teases me. lugging and rolling my nipples until I cry out, then sits up so
teasing me. 1 scramble for his shirt, undoing die first lo buttons, ami it's like
love with him all at once.
If If ills gras| tail i. pu i i 1 :yc dark and full of sen-
sual promise. "There's no rush. Take it slow. I want to savor you."
"( hristian. it's been so long." I'm panting.
"Slow," he whispers, and it's a command tie kisses Ihe right corner of my
mouth. "Slow." He kisses the left corner. "Slow, baby." He tugs my bottom lip
with his teeth. "Let's take this slow." He unfurls his fingers in my hair, keeping
me in place as his toi a in des n i li. seeking. 1 tin di .. , n 1 i
ing. Oh, my man can kiss.
I caress his face, my fingers moving tentatively down to his chin then to
throat, and 1 start i i 11 mil i 1 ill taking my fu
to kiss me. Slowly I pnl I liirl | i m 111 i ti 1 " cr his clavicles, feel-
ing their way across his warm. silks skin. I push him genlls buck until lie's King
beneath me. Sitting up, 1 gaze down at him, aware that I'm squirming against his
growi recti n / I I his jaw then down his
neck, over his Adam's apple to that little dip at the base of his throat. My beautiful
man. I lean down, and my kisses follow the lips of ms fingers. My teeth graze his
jaw and kiss his throat. He closes his eyes.
"Ah." He groans and lilts his head back, gising me easier access to the base
of his throat, his mouth slack and open in silent veneration. Christian lost and
ironsed is ji hilaraling md ironsing to me.
'I i his down his slen in Is ill i tin tig best hair. Hmm. He
tastes so good. He smells so good. Intoxicating. I kiss first one, then two of his
small round scars, and lie grasps my hips, so ms fingers hall on his chest as I gaze
"You want this ' 1 1 he breathes, his s hi , il i I ml
S I ni ii i o i u nd longne his chest to his nipple,
i pull and roil ii gently w ith my teeth.
"Oh, Ana," he whispers and circling my waisl he lifts me. lugging at his bur-
ton and fly so he springs free. He sits me down again, and I push against him, de-
lighting in the feel ol him hoi ami hard beneath me. He runs his hands up my
thighs, pausing where my Ihigh-highs slop and ms flesh begins, his hands running
small teasing circles at the top of my thighs so that the tips of his thumbs touch
me . . . touch me where I want to be touched. I gasp.
"I hope you lc i I i i i ii 1 ii nuns his eyes wild
and bright. His lm-L i I I h i slide inside tcisnu
n i in -hi ii sin i in mbs through the delic-
ate matei il Ms p in n 1 h k play out on my thighs, and his
thumbs brush againsl my sex once more. He Mexes his hips so his erection rubs
against me.
"1 can feel how wet you ar
and he suddenly sits up, his arm
"We're going to take this slow, Mrs. Grey. I want to feel all of you." He lifts
me, and with exquisite, frustrating, slow ease, lowers me onto him. I feel each
blessed inch of him fill me.
"Ah — " I moan incoherently as I reach out to clasp his arms. I try to lift my-
self off him for some c i i lion, bin he Ik i null
"All of mc," he uhispcrs and lilts his pcl is. pushing himself into me all the
way. 1 throw my head back and lei i d ei pure pleasure
"Let me hear you," he murmurs. "No — don't move, just feel."
I open my eyes, my mouth frozen in a silent Ah! And he's gazing at me,
hooded, licentious gray ex es inlo dazed blue, lie shifts, rolling his hips, but holds
mc in place.
I groan. I lis lips are ai my throat, kissing me.
"This is my favorite place. Buried in you." he murmurs againsl my skin.
""Please, nunc," I plead.
"Slow, Mrs. Grey." He Ilexes his hips again and pleasure radiates through
me. 1 cup his face and kiss him. a msuming him.
"Love me. Please. Christian."
His teeth skim my jaw up to my car. "Go," he whispers, and he lifts me up
and down. My inner goddess is unleashed, and I push him down on the ground
and start to move. sa oring die feeling of him inside me . . . riding him . . . riding
him hard. With his I nd i n i u i ny rhythm. Ilia ni
ihis . . . the heads leehng of him benealh me. inside mc . . . the sun on my back,
senses: touch, taste, smell, and the sigh; of m belo ed husband beneath me.
Ah . . . I love this. And inside, I'm building . . . building . . . climbing . . .
higher. Christian's hands move lo my thighs, and delicately his thumbs press at
their apex, and I explode around him over and over and over and over, and I col-
lapse, sprawled on his chest as he cries out in turn, letting go and calling out my
name will) love and joy.
He cuddles me t. u h I I sing my eyes, 1 sa-
vor the feel of his arms around me. My hand is on his chest, feeling the steady
heal of his Ik ui is il ni hi Piss n< Mil nd i 1 iricl
that not long ago he would not have let me do this.
'"Better'.'" he whispers. I raise im head, lie's grinning broadly.
"Much. You?" My answering grin reflects his.
"I've missed you, Mrs. Grey." He's serious for a moment.
"Me, too."
"No more heroics, eh?"
"No," I promise.
"You should always talk to me," he whispers.
""Back ai you. Gre."
He smirks. "Fair point well made. I'll try." He kisses my hair.
"I think we're going to he happy here." ! w hisper. closing my ees again.
"Yep. You, me and . . . Blip. How do you feel, incidentally?"
"Fine. Relaxed. Happy."
"Good."
"You?"
"Yeah, all those things," he murmurs.
1 look up at him, trying to gauge his expression.
"What?" he asks.
"You know, you're very bossy when we have sex."
"Are you complaining'.'"
"No. I'm just wondering . . . you said you missed it."
Oh. "Well, we'll have to see what we can do about that," I murmur and kiss
him lightly on his lips, curling around hint like a me. Images of us together, in
the playroom; the Tallis, the table, on the cross, shackled to the bed ... I love his
kinky fuckery — our kinky fuckery Yes. I can do thai stuff. 1 can do that for him,
with him. / can do that for me. My skin tingles as I remember the riding crop.
"I like to play, too," I murmur, and glancing up. I'm treated to his shy smile.
"You know, I'd really like to test your limits," he whispers.
"My limits for what?"
"Pleasure."
"Oh, I think I'd like that." My inner goddess drops into a dead faint.
"Well, maybe » hen e gel home.' he w hispers. Iea ing that promise hanging
! nuzzle him once more, i love him so.
It's been two days since our picnic. Two days since the promise of well, maybe
when we gel home was made. (. hristian is siill ! real my me like I'm made of glass.
He still won't let me go to work, so I have been working from home. I put the
stack of query letters i a bs in iding 11 m my desl a i sigh Christian and I
haven't been back in the playroom since I safe worded. And he's said he misses il.
Well, so do I . . . especially now dial he wants lo explore m limits. I flush, think-
ing what thai could possibly email. I glance al the billiard iable . . Yes I ean'l
explore those.
M}
Christ
hopeful melody — i
iiplcd by soil, lyrical music dial tills die apartment.
10; not one of his usual laments but a sweet melody, a
recognize, but have never heard him play.
I iiploe lo the archw ay of the great room and waleh Christian al the piano. It's
dusk. The sky is an opulent pink, and die lighl Is reflected off his burnished cop-
per hair. He looks his beautiful hreaihlaking self concentrating as he plays, iin-
forthcoming over the last few days, so attent-
le blue camisole and slip into il quickly. Il w ill hide m bruise,
m the drawer. From my bedside table I pick up my BlackBcrry,
fold the jeans neatly, and kneel h; 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 Grev
Yours alwavs
Mrs. Gx
A lew momenls laler she mnsie slops abruptly. My heart lurches end starts
pounding. I wait and wait and eventually my BlaekBcrry buzzes.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: My Husband's Pleasure < — love this title baby
Date: September 21, 2011 20:48
I'm intrigued. I'll come find you.
Be ready.
Christian Grey
Anticipat e CEO. Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Be ready! My heart starts to pound and I begin to count. Thirty-seven
seconds later the door opens. I'm looking down at his bare feet as they pause on
the threshold. Hmm. He says nothing. For ages he says nothing. Oh shit. I resist
the urge 10 look up al him and keep m> eyes downcast.
Finally . he reaches doss n and picks up Ins jeans, i Ic slay s silent but heads in-
to the walk-in closet while I remain stock-still. Oh my . . . this is it. My heart is
thundering, and I relish the rush of adrenaline that spikes through my body. I
squirm as my excitement builds. What will he do to toe': A lew moments later
he's back, w earing the jeans.
"So you want to play ?" he murmurs.
"Yes."
He says nothing, and 1 risk a quick glance . . up his (cans, his denim clad
thighs, the soft bulge at his fly, the open button at the waist, his happy trail, his
navel, his chiseled abdomen, his chest hair, his gras eye-, blazing, and his head
cocked to one side. 1 le's arching an ey ebrow. Oh shit.
"Yes what?" he whispers.
Oh.
His eyes soften. ""( iood girl." he murmurs, and lie caresses my head. "I think
clenches in that delicious way.
ing my hair hard.
"What?" I don't understand w hat lie's talking about.
"Don't worry. I'll live with it." he whispers, amused, and he runs his nose
along my jaw ind culls bit n i 111 i ! el. like I've hownyou."
"Yes . . . Sir."
i le gazes down al me. eyes shining with hoc. wonder, and is icked thoughts.
Jeez . . . Life is never going to be boring with Christian, and I'm in this for
the long haul. I love this man: my husband, my lover, father of my child, my
Epilogue
The Big House, May 2014
1 lie on our tartan picnic blanket and gaze up al the clear, blue, summer sky, my
view framed by meadow flowers and laii green grasses. 1 lie heal of the afternoon
summer sun warms i kin ill ind n iel . 1 lax my body turning
to Jell-O. This is comfortable. Hell no . . . this is wonderful. I savor the moment, a
moment of peace, a moment of pure and utter contentment, i should feel guilty for
feeling this joy, this completeness, but I don't. Life right here right now is good,
and I've learned to appreciate il and lie in the moment like my husband. I smile
and squirm as m m Iritis! ! elieious i not I' last night at our home in
Escala . . .
The strands of the flogger skim across m> swollen belly at an aching, languorous
"llae you had enough >el. Ana?" Christian whispers in my ear.
"Oh, please." I beg, pulling on the restraints above my head as I stand blind-
folded and tethered to the grid in the phi; room,
i _^ m lit s i i i i belt 1
"Please what?"
I gasp. "Please. Sir."
< hrislian places his hand over m ringing skm and rubs gently.
"There. There. There." His words are soft. His hand moves south and around,
"Mrs. Cirev." he breathes, and his teeth pull on mv earlobc. "You're so
ready."
His fingers slide in and out of me, hitting thai spot, that sweet, sweet spot
again. The flogger clatters onto the floor and his hand moves over my belly and
up to my breasts. I tense. They are sensitive.
"Hush' Chiislin cu > on* in he gently I i lies his thumb over
my nipple.
"Ah."
His fingers arc gentle and enticing, and pleasure spirals out from my breast,
down, down . . . deep down. I tilt my head back, pushing my nipple into his palm,
"I like to hear you," Christian whispers. His erection is at my hip, the buttons
of his fly prcssin i II i elentlc a ault: in,
out, in, out — keeping a rhythm. "Shall I make you come like this?" he asks.
"No."
His fingers stop moving inside me.
"Really, Mrs. Grey? Is it up to you?" His fingers tighten around my nipple.
"No ... No, Sir."
"That's better."
"Ah. Please," I beg.
"What do you want, Anastasia?"
"You. Always."
He inhales sharply.
"All of you," I add, breathless.
He cases his fingers out of me. pulls me around to lace him. and rcnuncs the
blindfold. I blink up into darkening gray eyes that burn into mine. His index fin-
gers trace my bottom lip, and he pushes his index and middle fingers into my
"Suck," he whispers. I swirl my tongue around and between his fingers.
freeing me. Turning me around so I'm facing the wall, he tugs on my braid,
throat to my car white holding me flush against him.
"I want in your mouth." His voice is soft and seductive. My body, ripe and
ready, clenches deep inside. The pleasure is sweet and sharp.
I moan. Turnin t 1 I pull I low it to mi I
my tongue imading bis mouth lasting and snoring him. lie groans, places his
hands on my behind id li ntc u i him I i nl i pregnant belly touches
him. 1 bite his jaw and trail kisses down his throat and run m fingers down to his
jeans. He tilts his head back, exposing more of his throat to me, and I run my
tongue down to his chest and through his chest ha:r.
"Ah."
1 tug the waistband of his jeans, the buttons popping, and he grasps my
shoulders as I sink to my knees in front of him.
As I gaze up at him through my lashes, he stares down at me. His eyes are
shirk, kis hps p;ined. and he inhales deeply when 1 free him and ensnare him with
my moral]. I line doing rhis lo ( hristian. Watching him come apart, hearing his
breath hitch, and the soft moans he makes deep in his throat. I close my eyes and
suck hard, pressing down on him. relishing has taste and his breathless gasp.
lie grasps m head, stilling me. and I sheath m> teeth with my lips and push
him deeper into my mouth.
"( )pcn your eyes and look at me," he orders, his voice low.
Blazing eyes meet mine and he flexes his hips, filling my mouth to the back
ok my throat then withdrawing quickly, lie pushes into me again and I reach up lo
grab him. He stops and holds me in place.
"Don't touch or I'll cuff you again. 1 just want your mouth," he growls.
Oh my. Like that is it? I put my hands behind my back and gaze up at him in-
"Good girl." he says, smirking down at me, his voice hoarse. He eases back,
and holding mc genlly but kirmly. he pushes into me again. "'You have such a
I'uckable mouth, Mrs. Grey." He closes his eyes and eases into my mouth as I
squeeze him belwec my lip inning n ue et ind u u I him I lal Inn
deeper and withdraw, again and again and again, the air hissing between his teeth.
"Ah! Stop," he says, and he pulls out of me, leaving me wanting more. lie
grasps my shouldci ind pulls n i 'I I irabbii i braid, he kisses me
hard, his persistent tongue greedy and giing al once. Suddenly he releases me,
poster. Gently, he la s m* i mi o Unit m beh id is jusl on the edge of the bed.
"Wrap your legs around my waist," he orders. I do and pull him toward me.
He leans down, hands either side of my head, and still standing, very slowly eases
himself into me.
Oh, that feels so good. I close my eyes and revel in his slow possession.
"Okay?" he asks, his concern evident in his tone.
"Oh, God, Christian. Yes. Yes. Please." I tighten my legs around him and
push against him. He groans. I clasp his arms, and he flexes his hips slowly at
first, in, out.
"Christian, please. Harder I won't break."
He groans and starts to move, really move, pounding into me again and
again. Oh, it's heavenly.
"Yes," I gasp, tightening my hold on him as I start to build ... He moans,
rindin hit m l 1 munition and I'm close. Oh, please. Don 1
"t ome on. Ana.' lie groans through grilled leeth. and 1 explode around him,
my orgasm going on and on and on. I call out his name and Christian stills, groan-
ing loudly, as he climaxes inside me.
Christian lies besi le i i i i I i i played out
wide.
"How's my daughter?"
""She's dancing." I laugh.
"Dancing? Oh yes! Wow. 1 can feel her." He grins as Blip Two somersaults
"I think she likes sex already."
Christian frowns. "Really?" he says dryly. He moves so his lips are againsl
my bump. "There'll he none of that unlil you're thirty, young lady.""
I giggle Oh Chi u i h a hpocritc."
"No, I'm an anxious father." He gazes up at me, his brow furrowed. belra ing
"You're a wonderful father, as 1 knew you would be." I caress his lovely
face, and he gives me his shy smile.
"1 like this," he murmurs, stroking then kissing m> belly. "There's more of
"It's great when you cc
He swoops on me suddenly . kissing me hard, throw ing his leg over mine, and
grabbing my hands so they are above my head. "You love the kinky trickery." he
whispers, and lie runs his nose down mine.
1 grin, caught in 1 ini'c in icked smile "Yes I lo e the kinky fuckcry.
And I love you. Very much."
I jerk awake, woken b a high-pitched squeal of delight Iron) my son, and even
though I can't see him or Christian, I grin like an idiot with my glee. Ted has
woken from his nap. and he and Christian are romping nearby. I lie quietly, still
marveling at Christi in i >r play His] liet in Teddv is extraordin-
ary much more so than w ith me. 1 snort. But then, that's how it should be. And
my beautiful little boy, the apple of his mother and father's eyes, knows no fear.
Christian, on the other hand, is still too overprotective — of both of us. My sweet,
mercurial, controlling Fifty.
"Let's find Mommy . She's here in the meadow somewhere."
Ted says something I don't hear, and Christian laughs 1'reely. happily. It's a
magical sound, filled w ilh his paternal joy 1 can't resisi 1 -druggie up onto my el-
bows to spy on them from m hiding place in die long grass.
Christian is swinging fed around and around, making hint squeal once more
in delight. He slops, launches him high into the air 1 stop breathing then he
catches him. Ted shrieks with childish abandon and I breathe a sigh of relief. Oh
" 'Gain, Daddy!" he squeals. Christian obliges, and m heart leaps into my
him close. Christian kisses fed s copper-colored hair, aim; blows a kiss on his
cheek, then tickle* him merciless!) for a moment, redd;, howls with laughter,
squirming and pushing against Christian's chest, wanting out of his arms. Grin-
ning, Christian sets him on the ground.
"Let's find Motnim . Site's hiding in the grass."
Ted beams enj t i i I I i 1 t I meadow Grasping
Christian's hand, he points to somewhere I'm not. and it makes me giggle. I lie
ii 11 jut i i lig in i i this i
"Ted, I heard Mommy. Did you hear her?"
"Mommy!"
I giggle-snort at Ted's imperious tone. Jeez — so like his dad, and he's only
"Teddy!" I call t t i 1 1 i 1 it n n t i
"Mommy!"
All too soon 1 heat their footsteps trampling through the meadow, and first
Ted then Christian bursts through the long grass.
"Mommy!" Ted screeches as if he's found the lost treasure of the Sierra
Madre, and he leaps onto me.
"Hey, baby bin 1 I ct die hit linsl ind ki t chubby check. He
giggles and kisses me in return, then struggles out of my arms.
"Hello, Daddy." I grin, and he picks Ted up, and sits down beside me with
mc. From his pocket, Christian produces his BlackBerry and gives it to Ted. This
brow furrowed. He looks so serious, blue eyes concentrating hard, just like his
daddy docs when he reads his e-mails. Christian nuzzle- Ted's hair, and my heart
swells to look at them both. Two peas in a pod: my son sitting quietly — for a few
It I I s I I i I It 1 I 1 I lit I I I
Of course, Ted is the most beautiful and talented child on the planet, but then
I am his mother so I would think that. And ( hrislian is . . . well, Christian is just
himself. In white T-shirt and jeans, he looks as hot as usual. What did I do to win
such a prize?
"You look well, Mrs. Grey."
"As do you, Mr. Grey."
"Isn't Mommy pretty ?" Christian u hispers in Ted's car. Ted swats him away,
more interested in Daddy's BlackBcrry.
I giggle. "You can't get around him."
"I know." Christian grins and kisses Ted's hair. "I can't believe he'll be two
tomorrow." His tone is wistful. Reaching across, he spreads his hand over my
bump. "Let's have lots of children," he says.
"One more at least." I grin, and he caresses my belly.
"How is my daughter?"
"She's good. Asleep, I think."
"Hello, Mr. Grey. Hi, Ana."
We both turn to see Sophie. Taylor'- ien-> ear-old daughter, appear out of the
long grass.
"Soeee," Ted squ il h delighted rex i. He sin gles out of Christi-
an's lap. disearding die BlackBerry.
"I have some popsiele lion Cj I So| c sa - 'a 1 give one to Ted?"
"Pop!" Ted holds out his I I i him. It's dripping
already.
"Here — let Mommy sec." I sit up, lake the popsiele from Ted, and quickly
"Mine!" Ted protest 1 is uiii : ringing iih indignation.
"Here you go." I hand him back a slightly less runny popsiele, and it goes
straight into his mouth. I Ie grins.
"Can Ted and I go for a walk?" Sophie asks.
"Sure."
"Don't go too far."
"No, Mr Gic 3 p hazel eyes are wide and serious. I think she's a
little frightened of Christian. She holds her hand out, and Teddy takes it willingly.
They trudge away logelhei h ougli the long grass.
Christian watches them.
"They'll be fine i i l hcic 1 He frowns