by James, E L
“Thank you,” she says, and pushes her empty plate aside.
“What shall we do now?” I ask, and I pitch my voice low, hoping my intention is clear. We have the whole apartment to ourselves, something we don’t have at home.
Ana peers at me through her lashes. “I have an idea.” Her voice is soft and sultry, and arousing. She skims her tongue across her top lip, and places her hand on my knee. The air is almost crackling between us with my desire.
Ana.
She leans in, giving me a wonderful view of her cleavage, and she murmurs in my ear, “It will involve getting wet.”
Oh. She runs her thumb up the inside of my thigh.
Fuck.
“Yes.” She leans in farther, her breath tickling my ear. “We could…wash the dishes.”
What!
Tease!
Well, this is unexpected. And a challenge.
I stifle my smile, and not taking my eyes off hers, I skim my index finger over her cheek to her chin, then down her throat and her sternum to the v in her dress. Her lips part as her breathing deepens. I pinch the soft fabric between my thumb and forefinger and tug, pulling her toward me. “I have a better idea.”
She gasps.
“A much better idea,” I continue.
“What?”
“We could fuck.”
“Christian Grey!”
I grin. I love shocking Ana. “Or we could make love,” I add.
Smooth, Grey. Smooth.
“I like your ideas better than mine.” Her voice is low and husky for real this time.
“Do you, now?”
“Mm-hmm. I’ll take option one.” Her eyes are smoky.
Ana, you goddess.
“Good choice. Take that dress off, now. Slowly.”
She stands up so that she’s between my thighs, and I think she’s going to do as she’s told, but she bends her head and places her hands on my thighs, then caresses the corner of my mouth with her lips. “You do it,” she whispers against my skin, and every hair on my body stands to attention as desire heats my blood.
“As you wish, Miss Steele.” I reach for the tie that holds her wrap dress together and gently unravel the bow so that her dress falls open.
Ana’s not wearing a bra. Deep joy.
I run my hands up her back as she cups my face and starts to kiss me. Her lips are insistent and her tongue demanding. I groan and close my eyes as we revel in each other’s kiss. Her skin is soft beneath my fingers as I draw her closer, pressing her to my chest. Her hands twist in my hair. And she tugs, forcing my head up.
Fuck.
Ana takes my bottom lip between her teeth and pulls.
Ow.
Ana!
I yank my head back and grab her wrists. “You’re a little wild,” I whisper, awed. She shimmies between my legs, her nipples brushing against my shirt and hardening as I watch. Her hair falls over her shoulders and shrouds her breasts while my pants grow tighter by the second.
What has gotten into her?
She’s exhilarating. Provocative.
“Are you teasing me?” I ask.
“Yes. Take me.”
“Oh, I will. Right here. When I’m ready.”
She gasps, eyes sultry and full of invitation, and I think she must have consumed more pinot than I thought. Gently I steer her backward and release her hands as I rise off my seat. I peer down at her as she studies me from beneath her long lashes.
“How about here?” I pat the top of the stool.
She blinks a couple of times as her lips part in surprise.
“Bend over,” I whisper.
Her teeth dig into her plump lip, leaving little indent marks, and I know she’s doing this on purpose.
“I believe you requested option one,” I remind her.
“I did.”
“I won’t ask you again.” I unbutton my pants and slowly tug down my zipper, giving my erection some much-needed room.
Ana stares at me, looking licentious and lovely, dressed only in her pretty open frock, a pair of white panties, and her high-heeled sandals. She raises her hands, and I think she’s going to take her dress off.
“Leave it on,” I insist, and reaching into my pants, I ease out my cock. “Ready?” I ask, and start to move my hand up and down, pleasuring myself. Her dark gaze strays from my hand to my face, and with a knowing smile, she turns and lies right over the stool.
“Grab the legs,” I urge, and she does, wrapping her fingers around the iron struts. Her hair brushes the floor and I move her dress so it hangs down her left side, leaving her glorious ass in view. “Let’s get rid of these,” I murmur, and run a finger across her skin above the elastic of her underwear. I kneel and slowly drag them down her legs and over her shoes. I toss them to the side and take her ass in my hands and squeeze.
“You look mighty fine from this angle, Miss Steele,” I whisper and kiss her butt. She squirms appropriately and I can’t help myself. I slap her hard so that she yelps and I ease one finger inside her. Her moan is loud and she strains her body, pushing against my hand.
She wants this.
She’s wet.
So wet.
Ana. You never disappoint.
I kiss her ass once more and stand up while moving my finger in. Out. In. Out.
“Legs. Wider,” I order as I fondle her backside. She moves her feet. “Wider.”
She shuffles them to the side until I’m satisfied.
Perfect.
“Hold on, baby.” I withdraw my hand and with infinite care slowly slide into her.
She gasps.
Fuck. She’s heaven.
I place my hand on her back and with the other I clutch the edge of the kitchen counter. I do not want to topple us both.
“Hold on,” I say once more and ease out of her, then slam into her.
“Ah!” she cries.
“Too much?”
“No. Keep going!” she whimpers.
And her wish is my command. I start to fuck her. Hard. Each stroke. Each push. Takes me away from everything, all my strife, all my worries. There’s only Ana. My girl. My lover. My light.
She cries out. Once, twice, three times. Begging me for more. And I keep going, taking her with me. Taking her higher. On and on until she calls out a strangled, loud version of my name. And she comes, over and over, with the force of a spring tide.
“Ana!” I cry and join her.
I collapse over her, then drop to the floor, taking her with me and cradling her in my arms. I kiss her eyelids, her nose, her mouth, and she puts her arms around my neck.
“How was option one?” I ask.
“Hmm…” she hums with a dazed smile.
I grin. “Same for me.”
“I’d like some more.”
“More? Jesus, Ana.”
She kisses my chest where my shirt is open, and I realize I’m still fully dressed.
“Let’s try the bed this time,” I whisper into her hair.
Ana moans. “Please!” Her hands are fastened, courtesy of her robe tie, to the spindles of her bedstead. She’s naked, her nipples long and hard, and pointing skyward, courtesy of my lips and tongue. I have her feet in one hand, pushed up on the bed near her behind, so her legs are akimbo and she’s straining for release. Slowly I ease my index finger in and out of her while my thumb circles her clitoris.
She can’t move.
“How’s this?” I ask.
“Please!” She’s hoarse.
“Do you like me to tease you?”
“Yes,” she cries.
“Do you like teasing me?”
“Yes.”
“I like it, too.” I stop my thumb and still my hand, my finger still inside her.
“Christian! Don’t stop!”
&
nbsp; “Tit for tat, Anastasia.” She’s endeavoring to push her hips up on my hand to find her release. “Still,” I whisper. “Stay still.”
Her mouth is slack, eyes dark and full of lust and need and all a man could want.
“Please,” she whispers, and I can tantalize her no more. I release her feet and withdraw my hand. Taking hold of her knee, I run my nose and lips down her thigh to my ultimate goal.
“Ah!” she yells when my tongue swirls over her swollen clitoris. I slide two fingers inside her, pushing once, twice, and she lets out a boisterous cry and her orgasm washes over me. I kiss her belly, her stomach, between her breasts, then I slowly sink into her as her climax dies.
“I love you, Ana,” I whisper, and I start to move.
Ana slumbers beside me while above me, the tie from her robe is still attached to the bed spindles. I contemplate waking her and having my wicked way with her a third time, marveling that I still want more. Will I ever have enough of Anastasia Steele? But she needs to sleep. Tomorrow we go sailing. Just the two of us and The Grace. She’ll need her energy to help me on board. We’ll be away from everyone for three whole days, enjoying our own July Fourth celebration, and my hope is that I can finally relax, at least for a few days.
My mind drifts to my dad and his surprise apology, to menus and party favors, to the crash and the unknown saboteur. I hope Reynolds and Ryan are okay outside.
They’re keeping watch.
Ana’s safe. We’re safe.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Sitting at my desk and staring out at the distant Sound, I can’t help but notice the heartwarming glow that’s emanating either from my skin or from somewhere deep inside my chest. It could be a combination of sea, sun, and wind from being aboard The Grace for the long weekend, or it could be because I’ve spent three uninterrupted days with Anastasia. Despite all the vexing issues I’ve dealt with over the past few weeks, I’ve never felt as relaxed as I did with her on board my catamaran. Ana is food for my soul.
Anastasia is fast asleep. The early morning light shimmers through the portholes skimming over her tousled hair so that it gleams, burnished and beautiful. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I place a cup of tea on the nightstand, as The Grace bobs gently on the water in Bowman Bay. I lean over and plant a tender kiss on her cheek.
“Wake up, sleepy head. I’m lonely.”
She groans, but her expression softens. I kiss her again and her eyes flutter open, and her face shines with a breathtaking smile. Reaching up, she caresses my cheek.
“Good morning, husband-to-be.”
“Good morning, wife-to-be. I’ve made you tea.”
She chuckles, in disbelief, I think. “You dear man,” she says. “This belongs on the list of firsts!”
“I believe it does.”
“And I can tell you’re very pleased with yourself.” Her grin mirrors mine.
“Miss Steele. I am. I make an excellent cup of tea.”
She sits up, and to my disappointment pulls up the covers to conceal her naked breasts. She can’t seem to stop grinning. “I’m so impressed. It’s such a complicated process.”
“Indeed, it is,” I reply. “I had to boil the water and everything.”
“And dip the tea bag. Mr. Grey, you are so competent.”
I laugh and narrow my eyes. “Are you belittling my tea-making skills?”
She gasps in mock horror and clutches imaginary pearls. “I wouldn’t dare,” she says and, reaching over, takes the cup.
“Just checking—”
A knock on my office door brings me back to the now. Andrea pops her head around the door. “Mr. Grey, your tailor is here.”
“Oh, great. Show him in.”
I need a new suit for the wedding.
Marco handles the company portfolio as well as our Mergers and Acquisitions. This morning he’s taking the senior team through GEH’s latest additions to our shareholdings. “We now own twenty-five percent of Blue Cee Tech, thirty-four percent of FifteenGenFour, and sixty-six percent of Lincoln Timber.” I’ve been listening with half an ear, but my attention is momentarily piqued by that last piece of news. This is a long-term project of mine, and I’m pleased we now own a majority stake in Lincoln Timber through one of our shell companies. Linc must need the money. Interesting.
Revenge is a dish…
Enough, Grey. Concentrate.
Marco moves on to his latest list of potential acquisitions. There are two companies that he is especially keen to pursue. He’s running through the pros while my mind strays to the weekend and Ana.
Ana is at the helm of The Grace as we glide over the sparkling ocean, past Admiralty Head on Whidbey Island. Her hair is flying in the wind and glinting in the sun. Her smile could melt the hardest of hearts.
It thawed mine.
She looks beautiful. Relaxed. Free.
“Hold her steady,” I shout over the rush of the sea.
“Aye-aye, Captain. I mean, Sir.” Ana bites her lip, and I know she’s teasing me, as usual. She salutes when I give her a bogus scowl, and I go back to tightening the bowline, unable to hide my smile.
Marco mentions a solar energy company that’s struggling to find investment.
An enticing aroma of batter and bacon welcomes me with open arms as I enter the galley. My girl is making pancakes. She’s dressed in a T-shirt and far-too-short denim shorts, and her hair is in pigtails.
“Good morning.” I wrap my arms around her, pressing her back to my front, and skim my lips down her neck. She smells so good, of soap and warmth and sweet, sweet Ana.
“Good morning, Mr. Grey.” She angles her head, giving me better access to her throat.
“This takes me back,” I murmur against her skin, and tug one of her pigtails.
She giggles. “That seems a lifetime ago. These, however, are not cherry-popped-by-would-be-Dominant pancakes. These are Independence Day pancakes. Happy Fourth of July.”
“There’s no other way I’d like to celebrate than with pancakes.” I kiss her beneath her earlobe. “Well, I can think of one way.” I gently tug her pigtail once more. “You always get an A.”
“Christian,” Ros says, her tone abrupt. Seven pairs of eyes are all directed at me. Shit. I stare blankly back at Ros, ignoring everyone else, and tilt my head to one side.
“What do you think?” She’s barely disguising her irritation, and I assume this is not the first time she’s asked.
Come clean, Grey. “I’m sorry, I was miles away.”
Her lips form a thin line and she glances at Marco, who gives me a warm smile and proceeds to give me an executive summary of what he’s just outlined.
“Okay,” I respond when he’s finished. “Let’s go after Geolumara. They could be a worthwhile addition to the energy division. We need to widen our footprint in green energy.”
“The others?”
I shake my head. “We should consolidate. Let’s concentrate on Geolumara. Send me all the details.”
“Will do.”
“We need a decision on the Taiwan shipyard. They are eager for a response from us.” Ros looks pointedly at me.
“I read the impact assessment.”
“And?”
“This is a gamble.”
“It is,” she acknowledges.
“But everything in life is a gamble, and at least as a joint venture we’ll share the risk and it might secure the future of the shipyard here.”
Ros and Marco nod.
“Let’s move this forward.”
“I’ll get the team on that,” Marco says.
“Good. I think that’s it. Thank you, everyone.”
They all rise, except for Ros. “Can I have a quick word?” she asks.
“Sure.”
She waits until everyone leaves.
“Well?
” And I wait for her to chastise me for my daydreaming.
“Woods has withdrawn his legal threats. We’re all good.”
“That’s not what I was expecting you to say.”
“I know. Honestly, Christian, it’s like you’re on your honeymoon already.”
“Honeymoon? I haven’t even thought about a honeymoon.”
Shit. Something else to organize.
Ros scoffs. “You’d better get on it.” She shakes her head. “I know I’d whisk Gwen away to Europe.”
I’m surprised by Ros’s candor—she rarely discusses her home life, although I know she has a domestic partnership with Gwen. Frequent attempts to legalize gay marriage in Washington have been thwarted. I make a mental note to talk to Senator Blandino about this when we next meet; surely she can apply some pressure to the governor and help push this agenda? “I thought Ana and I might stay somewhere near Bellevue overnight. We’re both working.”
“Grey, you can do better than that.” Ros screws up her face in mock disgust as she starts to gather her papers together.
I laugh. “Yes, I can. And what’s more, I’ll have fun figuring out what to do. Europe, you say.”
Ana’s always wanted to see Europe. England especially.
Ros’s lips twitch into a benevolent smile as she stands. “Good luck with that.” Her parting words echo through the empty room, leaving me to contemplate where the hell I’m going to take the future Mrs. Grey for a honeymoon.
I hope she has a passport.
Back in my office I check my computer, and there’s an e-mail from Ana that she sent an hour ago.
From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Jibbing and Jibing. Bowlines and Halyards.
Date: July 5 2011 9:54
To: Christian Grey
My darling Mr. Grey
What a spectacular weekend! The best July 4th ever. Thank you.
I am also giving you advance notice that I will be staying at my apartment with Kate on Friday. I will be packing so I can move in with you on Saturday. But, I should warn you, this will be a girls-only evening, so your presence will not be required, but much missed.
Maybe you can write your vows?
Just an idea.
Laters, baby.
Axxx
From: Christian Grey