Freed

by James, E L

  It’s liberating.

  When the song changes, she’s breathless, her eyes shining.

  And my equilibrium has returned. I must download this song onto my iPod. I think it’s called “Touch Me.”

  Apt. I’ve not heard it before.

  “Can we sit?” she gasps.

  “Sure.” We head back toward our table.

  “You’ve made me rather hot and sweaty,” she whispers.

  I wrap my arms around her. “I like you hot and sweaty. Though I prefer to make you hot and sweaty in private.” Exhilarated, we sit down. I’m relieved to see that my spilled beer has been cleaned up and replenished. As has our water.

  The others are still on the dance floor. Ana takes a sip of her champagne.

  “Here.” I place a glass of sparkling mineral water in front of her, and I’m relieved to watch her down the entire glass. I grab myself a beer from the ice bucket and take a long swig.

  What a night.

  “What if there had been press here?” Ana asks.

  I shrug. “I have expensive lawyers.”

  She frowns. “But you’re not above the law, Christian. I did have the situation under control.”

  Really? “No one touches what’s mine.” I insert the right amount of venom into that statement. Ana takes another sip of champagne and closes her eyes. Suddenly she looks weary. I grasp her hand. “Come, let’s go. I want to get you home.”

  “You going?” asks Kate, as she and Elliot arrive back at the table.

  “Yes.”

  “Good, we’ll come with you.”

  Ana falls asleep in the minivan on the way back, her head on my shoulder. She’s fried. I shake her gently when Taylor pulls up outside the house. “Wake up, Ana.”

  She staggers out into the cool air, where Taylor is waiting patiently.

  “Do I need to carry you?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head.

  “I’ll go fetch Miss Grey and Mr. Kavanagh,” Taylor says.

  Ana clings to me as she tiptoes up the stone steps to the oak front door. Taking pity on her, I bend down, unstrap and remove each of her shoes. “Better?”

  She nods and gives me a bleary smile. She’s tipsy.

  “I had delightful visions of these around my ears,” I whisper, looking wistfully down at her fuck-me heels, but she’s too tired for that. I open the door and we head upstairs to our bedroom. She stands, swaying, beside our bed, eyes closed, hands loose at her sides. “You’re wrecked, aren’t you?” I stare down into her sleepy face.

  She nods and I start to unbuckle her coat.

  “I’ll do it,” she mumbles, and tries to brush me off.

  “Let me.”

  She sighs and resigns herself to her fate.

  “It’s the altitude. You’re not used to it. And the drinking, of course.” I smirk down at her and ease her out of her coat, tossing it aside onto a chair. Taking her hand, I lead her into the bathroom.

  She frowns.

  “Sit,” I order.

  She slumps onto the chair and closes her eyes. She might fall asleep if I’m not quick enough. In the vanity I find the Advil, cotton balls, and moisturizer that Mrs. Bentley has supplied, and fill a small glass with water. I turn back to Ana and gently tip her head back. She opens eyes that are smudged with makeup. “Eyes closed,” I order.

  She obliges, and gently I clean the makeup off until, finally, she’s smudge-free. “Ah. There’s the woman I married.”

  “You don’t like makeup?”

  “I like it well enough, but I prefer what’s beneath it.” I kiss her forehead. “Here. Take these.” I place the tablets on her palm and hand her the water.

  She gazes up at me, pouting.

  What?

  “Take them.” You’ll feel worse tomorrow if you don’t.

  She rolls her eyes but does as she’s told.

  “Good. Do you need a private moment?”

  She scoffs. “So coy, Mr. Grey. Yes, I need to pee.”

  I laugh. “You expect me to leave?”

  She giggles. “You want to stay?”

  I cock my head to one side. It’s tempting.

  “You are one kinky son of a bitch. Out. I don’t want you to watch me pee. That’s a step too far.” She stands up and waves me out of the bathroom.

  I suppress my laughter and leave her to it. In the bedroom, I strip out of my clothes, change into my pajama bottoms, and hang my jacket in the closet. When I turn around, Ana is watching me. Grabbing a T-shirt, I stroll up to her, appreciating her frankly lascivious appraisal of my body. “Enjoying the view?”

  “Al-ways,” she slurs.

  “I think you’re slightly drunk, Mrs. Grey.”

  “I think, for once, I have to agree with you, Mr. Grey.”

  “Let me help you out of what little there is of this dress. It really should come with a health warning.” I turn her around, sweep her hair to the side, and undo the single button at the halter neck.

  “You were so mad,” she says.

  “Yes. I was.”

  “At me?”

  “No. Not at you.” I kiss her shoulder. “For once.”

  “Makes a nice change.”

  “Yes. It does.” I kiss her other shoulder, then tug her dress over her behind. Hooking my thumbs into her panties, I bend down and remove them together. I take her hand. “Step.” She does, tightening her fingers around mine as she wobbles. I toss her clothes on top of the coat. “Arms up.” I slip the T-shirt over her head and pull her into my arms and kiss her. She tastes of champagne and toothpaste and my favorite flavor, Ana. “As much as I’d love to bury myself in you, Mrs. Grey—you’ve had too much to drink, you’re at nearly eight thousand feet, and you didn’t sleep well last night. Come. Get into bed.” I pull back the duvet and let her climb in. She snuggles down as I cover her up and kiss her forehead.

  “Close your eyes. When I come back to bed, I’ll expect you to be asleep.”

  “Don’t go.”

  “I have some calls to make, Ana.”

  “It’s Saturday. It’s late. Please.” She looks up at me with her soul-searching eyes.

  I run my hand through my hair. “Ana, if I come to bed with you now, you won’t get any rest. Sleep.” She pouts once more, but without any real passion. She’s too tired. I brush my lips against her forehead again. “Good night, baby.” I turn and leave her. I have to get Taipei on the line.

  Sunday, August 28, 2011

  Ana is comatose when I return to bed. Slipping beneath the covers, I lean over and kiss her hair. She mumbles something unintelligible, but remains fast asleep. I close my eyes. My conversation with the owners of the Taiwanese shipyard was a success: a brother and sister in business together—it’s a first for me—and they’re keen to discuss terms in person. We just have to settle on a date. It’s the icing on the cake of a good day. Well, apart from losing it at the club and punching that asshole’s lights out. I grin into the darkness. No, that felt pretty good, too. With a self-satisfied smile on my face, I drift.

  Ana squirms against me and I wake, fully. As usual, my limbs are entwined with hers. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Nothing.” She’s luminous in the early morning sunshine. “Good morning.” She runs her fingers through my hair.

  “Mrs. Grey, you look lovely this morning.” I press my lips to her cheek.

  Her eyes search mine. “Thank you for taking care of me last night.”

  “I like taking care of you. It’s what I want to do.” Always.

  “You make me feel cherished.” Her smile warms my heart.

  “That’s because you are.” More than you’ll ever know. I grasp her hand and she winces. I release her immediately. Shit! “The punch?” I ask.

  I knew I should have hit that prick again.

 
“I slapped him. I didn’t punch him.”

  “That fucker! I can’t bear that he touched you.” My temper flares.

  “He didn’t hurt me—he was just inappropriate, Christian. I’m okay. My hand’s a little red, that’s all. Surely you know what that’s like?” She smirks, laughing at me as usual, and my brief burst of anger dissolves.

  “Why, Mrs. Grey, I am very familiar with that. I could reacquaint myself with that feeling this minute, should you so wish.”

  “Oh, stow your twitching palm, Mr. Grey.” She runs her fingertips over my cheek and then tugs the little hairs of my sideburn. I’m not sure I like the feeling. I take her hand and kiss her palm.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this hurt last night?”

  “Um, I didn’t really feel it last night. It’s okay now.”

  Ah, yes. Alcohol deadened the pain. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than I deserve.”

  “That’s quite a right arm you have there, Mrs. Grey.”

  “You’d do well to remember that, Mr. Grey.” And there’s a challenge in her tone.

  “Oh, really?” I roll onto her and grab her wrists, holding them above her head. “I’d fight you any day. In fact, subduing you in bed is a fantasy of mine.” I kiss her throat, wondering what that would be like. The idea is arousing.

  “I thought you subdued me all the time.”

  “Hmm, but I’d like some resistance,” I murmur, running my nose along her jaw, wondering if she’d ever agree to that. She stills beneath me and I know I have her attention, and possibly her interest. Releasing her hands, I lean up on my elbows.

  “You want me to fight you? Here?” she whispers, trying to contain her surprise.

  I nod. Why not? I’ve always wanted to do this but couldn’t—because I couldn’t bear to have anyone touch me.

  “Now?” she asks.

  I shrug. Part of me can’t believe she’s even entertaining the idea, but I’m thrilled that she might. I nod again, as my dick grows rigid against her soft flesh. Ana toys with her bottom lip as she gazes at me, and I know she’s considering the notion.

  “Is this what you meant about coming to bed angry?”

  Yes. Exactly. I nod. “Don’t bite your lip.”

  She narrows her eyes, but there’s a flash of amusement, and possibly desire, in their depths as her pupils enlarge. “I think you have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Grey.” She wriggles beneath me and flutters her lashes, and I want her all the more.

  “Disadvantage?”

  “Surely you’ve already got me where you want me?” Her smile is coy as I press my eager cock against her.

  “Good point well made, Mrs. Grey.” I kiss her quickly and roll over, taking her with me so she’s astride my belly. She grabs my hands, pinning them to the bed on each side of my head. Her eyes sparkle with carnal mischief, and her hair tumbles down over my face. She shakes her head to torture me, the ends of her hair tickling my face.

  “So, you want to play rough?” she asks while she teases me, her groin skimming over mine.

  I inhale suddenly. “Yes.”

  She sits up and releases my hands. “Wait.” Reaching for the glass of sparkling water I left for her on the nightstand, she takes a long draft, while I skate my fingers in circles up her thighs to her ass. I give it a good squeeze. She leans down and kisses me, pouring cool water into my mouth.

  “Very tasty, Mrs. Grey,” I murmur, trying to contain my excitement at our new game. Placing the glass back on the nightstand, she grabs my hands from her behind and pins them on either side of my head once more.

  “So I’m supposed to be unwilling?” She sounds amused.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not much of an actress.”

  I grin. “Try.”

  Leaning down, she kisses me once more. “Okay, I’ll play,” she murmurs, and I close my eyes, inwardly rejoicing as she skims her teeth along my jaw. I groan deep in my throat and move, quickly, pinning her beneath me. Ana cries out in surprise and I make a play to grab her hands, but she’s too quick. She pushes against my chest as I try to part her legs with my knee, but her thighs are firmly clamped together. I capture her wrist, but she grabs my hair with her other hand and yanks it. Hard.

  Fuck. This. Is. Hot.

  “Ah!” I twist my head free and stare down at her.

  Her eyes are wide and wild, her breathing erratic.

  She’s turned on, too.

  It’s a torch to my libido. “Savage,” I whisper, my lust laced through each syllable. Ana is unleashed—she tries to wrest her hand from mine as she attempts to buck me off. I grab her free hand with my left, so I have both of her wrists pinned above her head, leaving my right hand to linger over her body. My fingers travel down, my aim to lift the hem of her T-shirt, but I love the feel of her flesh beneath the soft material. Her nipple is hard, ready for me, and I greet it with a tweak.

  Ana yelps and tries in vain to buck me off once more.

  I lean down to kiss her and she turns her face away from me.

  No.

  I clasp her chin and hold her in place while my teeth graze her jaw, as she did to me earlier. “Oh, baby, fight me.” My voice is husky with need.

  She twists and writhes one more, trying to free herself, but I keep my hold on her and it’s such a kick—a heady, euphoric feeling of dominance. Teasing her lower lip with my teeth, I try to invade her mouth, but suddenly she softens beneath me, granting my tongue access and kissing me back, her passion taking me by surprise. I release her wrists, and her hands are in my hair while she wraps her legs around me, her heels at my ass, pushing down my pajamas. She tips her pelvis up to me as we kiss. “Ana,” I whisper, her name a talisman as she bewitches me. We’re no longer fighting. We’re surrendering to each other. I cannot get enough of her. She’s on me, I’m on her. We’re lips and tongues, and mouths and hands.

  Fuck. I want her.

  “Skin,” I mumble, panting. I haul her up and remove her T-shirt in one fast move, throwing it on the floor.

  “You,” she whispers, and she yanks down my pajamas and grabs my cock, squeezing me hard as she tightens her hand around me.

  “Fuck!”

  I grab her thighs, lifting them so she falls back on the bed, but she doesn’t let go of me. Her fingers move over me, hot and fevered, her thumb teasing me, while my hands caress her body: her hips, her stomach, her breasts.

  She slips her thumb in her mouth.

  “Taste good?” I ask, as she stares at me, her eyes burning with desire.

  “Yes. Here.” She shoves her thumb into my mouth as I hover over her. Tasting and biting the pad, I suck her thumb and marvel at her audacity. She groans, her fingers tugging on my hair, bringing my mouth to hers. She folds around me, pushing my pajamas off with her feet. My teeth skim her jaw, nipping gently.

  “You’re so beautiful.” My lips continue their journey down her throat. “Such beautiful skin.” Across her chest and onward to her breasts.

  Ana writhes beneath me. “Christian,” she begs, tightening her hands in my hair.

  “Hush.” My tongue circles her nipple, honoring it, before my lips close around it and I tug.

  “Ah!” she moans, tilting her hips so that we’re slick against each other. I grin against her skin. I’m going to make her wait. Gliding my lips to her other breast, I greet its erect and eager nipple with my mouth.

  “Impatient, Mrs. Grey?” I suck hard on her, and Ana yanks hard on my hair, eliciting a long groan from me. I narrow my eyes in warning. “I’ll restrain you.”

  “Take me,” she beseeches.

  “All in good time.” My lips and tongue pay homage to her breast and nipple, while Ana continues to squirm beneath me. She moans, loudly, her pelvis thrusting against my ready dick.

  Suddenly she twists and bucks, trying to throw me off her
again. “What the—” I grab her hands and pin her down into the mattress.

  Ana is panting underneath me. “You wanted resistance,” she rasps.

  I take some of my weight on my elbows and gaze down at her, trying to understand her sudden change of heart…again. Her heels dig into my ass.

  She wants me.

  Now.

  “You don’t want to play nice?” My cock is straining.

  “I just want you to make love to me, Christian,” she says through gritted teeth. “Please.” Her heels press into my ass again, with more force this time.

  Fuck. What’s going on here?

  Releasing her hands, I sit back on my haunches, pulling her into my lap. “Okay, Mrs. Grey, we’ll do this your way.” Lifting her, I lower her onto my waiting erection.

  “Ah,” she groans, closing her eyes and tipping back her head.

  God, she feels so good.

  She curls her arms around my neck, her fingers clamped over my head, and she starts to move. Fast. Frantic. My lips find hers, and I surrender to her pace, and her supercharged rhythm, until we both shout out as we come, and collapse back on the bed.

  Wow.

  That was…different.

  We both lie there, catching our breath. She runs her fingertips through my chest hair and I thrum my fingers down her back, enjoying the contact.

  “You’re quiet,” Ana says eventually, and kisses my shoulder. I turn to look at her, trying to understand what just happened. “That was fun,” she says, but as her eyes search mine, she looks uncertain.

  “You confound me, Ana.”

  “Confound you?”

  I turn so we’re face-to-face. “Yes. You. Calling the shots. It’s different.”

  The small v forms between her brows as she frowns. “Good different or bad different?” She traces her finger over my lips, and I pucker them to kiss her fingertip as I contemplate her question.

  “Good different.” Frantic, though. I would have liked that to last longer.

  “You’ve never indulged this little fantasy before?”

  “No, Anastasia. You can touch me.” And it was fucking hot. I’d like to do it again.

  “Mrs. Robinson could touch you.”

  My eyes find hers while I wonder why she would bring up Elena at this time. “That was different,” I whisper.