Fifty Shades Freed

Smoothing my hair off my face, he kisses my eyes, then my cheeks, and I curl my arms around him and sob quietly into his neck. He buries his nose in my hair and

wraps me in his arms, holding me tight and we sit, neither of us saying anything, just holding each other.

Sawyer’s voice startles us. “The unsub has slowed outside Escala. He’s casing the joint.”

“Follow him,” Christian snaps.

I wipe my nose on the back of my hand and take a deep steadying breath.

“Use my shirt.” Christian kisses my temple.

“Sorry,” I mutter, embarrassed by my crying.

“What for? Don’t be.”

I wipe my nose again. He tips my chin up and plants a gentle kiss on my lips. “Your lips are so soft when you cry, my beautiful, brave girl,” he whispers.

“Kiss me again.”

Christian stills, one hand on my back, the other on my behind.

“Kiss me,” I breathe, and I watch his lips part as he inhales sharply. Leaning across me, he takes the BlackBerry out of its cradle, and tosses it onto the driver’s

seat beside my sandaled feet. Then his mouth is on me as he moves his right hand into my hair, holding me in place, and lifts his left to cradle my face. His tongue

invades my mouth, and I welcome it. Adrenaline turns to lust streaking through my body. I clasp his face, ru

of him. He groans at my fevered response, low and deep in his throat, and my belly tightens swift and hard with carnal desire. His hand moves down my body,

brushing my breast, my waist, and down to my backside. I shift fractionally.

“Ah!” he says and breaks away from me, breathless.

“What?” I mutter against his lips.

“Ana, we’re in a car lot in Seattle.”

“So?”

“So?”

“Well, right now I want to fuck you, and you’re shifting around on me . . . it’s uncomfortable.”

My craving spirals out of control at his words, tightening all my muscles below my waist once more.

“Fuck me then.” I kiss the corner of his mouth. I want him. Now. That car chase was exciting. Too exciting. Terrifying . . . and the fear has jump-started my

libido. He leans back to gaze at me, his eyes dark and hooded.

“Here?” His voice is husky.

My mouth goes dry. How can he turn me on with one word? “Yes. I want you. Now.”

He tilts his head to one side and stares at me for a few moments. “Mrs. Grey, how very brazen,” he whispers, after what feels like an eternity. His hand tightens

around my hair at my nape, holding me firmly in place, and his mouth is on mine again, more forcefully this time. His other hand skims down my body, down over

my behind and lower still to my mid-thigh. My fingers curl into his overlong hair.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing a skirt,” he murmurs as he slips his hand beneath my blue and white patterned skirt to caress my thigh. I squirm once more on his lap

and the air hisses between his teeth.

“Keep still,” he growls. He cups my sex with his hand, and I still immediately. His thumb brushes over my clitoris, and my breath catches in my throat as pleasure jolts like electricity deep, deep, deep inside me.

“Still,” he whispers. He kisses me once more as his thumb circles gently around me through the sheer fine lace of my designer underwear. Slowly he eases two

fingers passed my panties and inside me. I groan and flex my hips toward his hand.

“Please,” I whisper.

“Oh, Mrs. Grey. You’re so ready,” he says, sliding his fingers in and out, tortuously slowly. “Do car chases turn you on?”

“You turn me on.”

He smiles a wolfish grin and withdraws his fingers suddenly, leaving me wanting. He scoops his arm under my knees and, taking me by surprise, he lifts me and

swings me around to face the windshield.

“Place your legs either side of mine,” he orders, putting his legs together in the middle of the footwell. I do as I’m told, placing my feet on the floor on either side

of his. He runs his hands down my thighs, then back, pulling up my skirt.

“Hands on my knees, baby. Lean forward. Lift that glorious ass in the air. Mind your head.”

Shit! We really are going to do this, in a public parking lot. I quickly scan the area in front of us and see no one, but feel a thrill coursing through me. I’m in a

public lot! This is so hot! Christian shifts beneath me, and I hear the telltale sound of his zipper. Putting one arm around my waist and with his other hand tugging

my lacy panties sideways, he impales me in one swift move.

“Ah!” I cry out, grinding down on him, and his breath hisses through his teeth. His arm snakes around me up to my neck and he grasps me under my chin. His

hand spreads across my neck, pulling me back and tilting my head to one side so he can kiss my throat. His other hand grips my hip and together we start to move.

I push up with my feet, and he tilts himself into me—in and out. The sensation is . . . I groan loudly. It’s so deep this way. My left hand curls around the hand

brake, my right hand braced against my door. His teeth graze my earlobe and he tugs—it’s almost painful. He bucks again and again into me. I rise and fall, and as

we establish a rhythm, he moves his hand around beneath my skirt to the apex of my thighs, and his fingers gently tease my clitoris through the sheer finery of my

panties.

“Ah!”

“Be. Quick,” he breathes into my ear through gritted teeth, his hand still curled around my neck beneath my chin. “We need to do this quick, Ana.” And he

increases the pressure of his fingers against my sex.

“Ah!” I feel the familiar build of pleasure, bunching deep and thick inside me.

“Come on, baby,” he rasps at my ear. “I want to hear you.”

I moan again, and I am all sensation, my eyes tightly closed. His voice at my ear, his breath on my neck, pleasure radiating out from where his fingers tease my

body and where he slams deep inside me, and I am lost. My body takes control, craving release.

“Yes,” Christian hisses in my ear and I open my eyes briefly, staring wildly at the cloth roof of the R8, and I scrunch them closed again as I come around him.

“Oh, Ana,” he murmurs in wonder, and he wraps his arms around me and rams into me one last time and stills as he climaxes deep inside.

He runs his nose along my jaw and softly kisses my throat, my cheek, my temple as a lie on him, my head lolling against his neck.

“Tension relieved, Mrs. Grey?” Christian closes his teeth around my earlobe again and tugs. My body is drained, totally exhausted, and I mewl. I feel his smile

against me.

“Certainly helped with mine,” he adds, shifting me off him. “Lost your voice?”

“Yes,” I murmur.

“Well aren’t you the wanton creature? I had no idea you were such an exhibitionist.”

I sit up immediately, alarmed. He tenses. “No one’s watching are they?” I glance anxiously around the car lot.

“Do you think I’d let anyone watch my wife come?” He strokes his hand down my back reassuringly, but the tone of his voice sends shivers down my spine. I

turn to gaze at him and grin impishly.

“Car sex!” I exclaim.

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Let’s head back. I’ll drive.”

He opens the door to let me climb off his lap and out into the parking lot. When I glance down he’s quickly doing up his fly. He follows me out and then holds

the door open for me to climb back in. Strolling quickly around to the driver’s side, he climbs in beside me, retrieves the BlackBerry, and makes a call.

“Where’s Sawyer?” he snaps. “And the Dodge? How come Sawyer’s not with you?”

He listens intently to Ryan, I assume.

“Her?” he gasps. “Stick with her.” Christian hangs up and gazes at me.

Her! The driver of the car? Who could that be—Elena? Leila?

“The driver of the Dodge is female?”