Page 5 of Fifty Shades Freed

both into the backs of our seats. The speedometer whips up to seventy-five miles
per hour.



"Steady, baby." Christian says, calmly, though I'm sure he's anything but

I weave between the two lines of traffic like a black counter in a game of
checkers, effectively jumping the cars and trucks. We're so close to the lake on
this bridge, it's as if we're driving on the water. I studiously ignore the angry, dis-
I I 1 i li el v i l t i t 'ill th In

lap, keeping as still I thought I wonder

vaguely if he's doing it so he doesn't distract me.

"(rood jnl ik Ik a in i i ii i i ' II .1 i ichind him. "I can't
sec the Dodge."

"We're right behind the unsub, Mr. Grey." Sawyer's voice comes through the
hands-free. "He's trying to catch up with you, sir. We're going to try and come
alongside, put ourselves between your car and the Dodge."

Unsub? What does that mean?

"Good. Mrs. Grey is doing well. At this rate, provided the traffic remains
light— and from what I can see it is— we'll be off the bridge in a few minutes."
"Sir."

I ike hingloi i hen I check n ed. I'm slil n i >> n ! c

"You're doing really v. ell. Ana." ( hrislian murmurs again as he gazes out the

back of the R8. For a fleeting moment, his tone reminds me of our first encounter

in his playroom when he patiently encouraged me through our first scene. The

thought is distracting, and 1 dismiss il immediately.

"Where am I headed?" I ask, moderately calmer. I have the feel of the car

now. It's a joy to drive, so quiet and easy to handle it's hard to believe how fast

we arc going. Drum I i i e

Ii ( I i I i 1 il il'thc D i I

you all the wa> Sa i the hands-l II i t K h_hts on the bridge

are green lhank hca ens and I race onward.

I glance nervously at Christian, and he smiles reassuringly. Then his face

falls.

"Shit!" he swears softly.

There is a line of traffic ahead as we come off the bridge, and I have to slow.

i mi i nee more. I think 1 i I i

"Ten or so cars back?"



"Yeah. I see i! 1 li in i rii n n r h ih narroi r wii !
wonder who the fuck it is?"

"Me too. Do we know if it's a man driving?" I blurt out toward the cradled
BlackBcrry.

"No, Mrs. Grey. Could be a man or woman. The tint is too dark."
"A woman?" Christian says.

I shrug. "Your Mrs. Robinson?" I suggest, not taking my eyes off the road.

Christian stiffens and lifts the BlackBerry out of its cradle. "She's not my
Mrs. Robinson," he growls. "I haven't spoken to her since my birthday. And
Elena wouldn't do Ihis. It's not her style."

"Leila?"

"She's in Connecticut with her parents. I told you."
"Are you sure?"

He pauses. "No. But if she'd absconded, I'm sure her folks would have let
Flynn know. Let's discuss this when we're home. Concentrate on what you're
doing."

"But it might just be some random car."

places the BlackBerry in its cradle so we're back in contact with our security

Oh shit. I don't want to rattle Christian right now . . . later maybe. I hold my
tongue. Fortunately, the traffic is thinning a little. I am able to speed over the

"What if w e gel slopped b_ the cops'.'" 1 ask.

"Not for my license."

"Don't worry about that.' he sa> s. I 'ncwpecicdly. I hear humor in his voice.

I put my foot do i i 1 ii i Ben. I u >. i I loe

it — she's so easy. I touch eighty-five. I don't think I have ever driven this fast. I
was lucky if my Beetle e er hit fifty miles an hour.

"He's cleared the traffic and picked up speed." Sawyer's disembodied oiec
is calm and informative. "He's doing ninety."

Shit! Faster! I press down on the gas and the car purrs to ninety-five miles,
per hour as we approach die 1-5 intersection.

"Keep it up, Ana," Christian murmurs.



I slow momentarily as we glide onto t ho 1-5. The inlcrslale is fairly quid, and
I'm able to cross straight over to the fast lane in a split second. As I put my foot
down, the glorious R8 zooms forward, anil we tear down the left lane, lesser mor-
tals pulling over to let us pass. If I wasn't so frightened, I might really enjoy this.

""lie's hit one hundred miles per hour, sir."

"Stay with him, Luke," Christian barks at Sawyer.

Luke?

A truck lurches into the fast lane Slui! and j have to slam on the brakes.

"Fucking idiot!" Christian curses the driver as we lurch forward in our seats.
I am grateful for our scatbclts.

"Go around hint, bab>." Christian says through clenched teeth. I check my
mirrors and cut right across three lanes. We speed past the slower vehicles and
then cut back to the fast lane.

"Nice move, Mrs. Grey," Christian murmurs appreciatively. "Where are the
cops when you need them?"

"I don't watrt a ticket. Christian." I mutter, concentrating on the highway
ahead. "Have you had i peedit iekel driving this?"

"No," he says, but glancing quickly at him, I can see his smirk.

"Have you been stopped?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

t 1 It all comes down t i i I

the Dodge, Sawyer?"

"He's just hit one hundred and ten, sir." Sawyer says.

push my foot down once more and streak past the traffic.
"Flash the headl II
"But that would make me an asshole."
"So be an asshole!" he snaps.
.Jeez. Okay! "Um, where arc the headlights?"
"The indicator. Pull it toward you."

I di it ui i Ik In i i t a before the driver waves his

finger at ntc in a none-ioo-eoniplinicnlary manner. 1 zoom past him

"He's the asshole n t t i t Hi I i wks at me, "get off
on Stewart."



Yes sir!

i I L' (lie Sic rl Street ei , hi S;i i
"Head straight to Escala, sir."

1 slow, check m> mirrors, signal, then nunc « illi surprising case across four
lanes of the highway and down the off-ramp. Merging onto Stewart Street, we
head south. The street is quiet, with few vehicles. Where is everyone?

"We've been damned lucky illi the traffic. Bui thai means the Dodge has,
too. Don't slow down, Ana. Get us home."

"I can't remember the va>." ! mutter, panicked b_ the fact the Dodge is slill



"Run them, Ana," Christian shouts. I jump so hard I floor the gas pedal,
throw ing us both hack in our seals, speeding through the now red light.
"He's taking Stewart," Sawyer says.
"Stay with him, Luke."



""Ah." 1 low did 1 not know tins'.' The man lias been following mc to work for

"That's mc, ma'am." Sawyer says, startling inc. though he's speaking in the
calm, monotone voice he always uses. "The unsub is heading down Stewart, sir.
I Ie's really picking up speed."

"Go, Ana. Less of the fucking chitchat," Christian growls.

"We're stopped at the first light on Stewart." Sawyer informs us.

"Ana — quick — in here." C hristian shoals, pointing to a parking lot on the
south side of Boren Avenue. I turn, the tires screeching in protest as I swerve into
the crowded lot.



"Drive around- Quick." Christian orders. I drie as fast as 1 can 10 die back,
out of sight of die street. "In there." ( liristian points to a space. Shit! He wants me
to park it. Crap!

"Just fucking do it," he says. So I do . . . perfecth . Probably the only time I
ha e ever parked perfectly.

"We're hidden in I he parking lot between Stewart and Boren." C liristian says
into the BlackBerry.

"Okay, sir." Sawyer sounds irritated. "Stay where you are; we'll follow the

Christian turns to i his ees scan ing my lace. "You okay?"
"Sure," 1 whisper.

(. liristian smirks. " liocer's dri ing dial Dodge can't hear us, you know."
And I laugh.

"We're passing Stewart and Boren now, sir. I see the lot. He's gone straight
past you, sir."

Both of us sag simultaneous!} w itlt relic!'

"Well done Mi i od i i Christian gent ttokes my face with

his fingertips, and I jump at the contact, inhaling deeply. 1 had no idea I was hold-
ing my breath.

laughs — a loud cathartic laugh.

too." I try desperately to keen im oice light.

"To be honest, I don't think I can climb out right now to let you sit here. My
legs feel like Jell-O." Suddenly I'm shuddering and shaking.

"It's the adrenaline, baby," he says. "You did amazing!} well, as usual. You
blow me away, Ana. You never let me down." He touches my cheek tenderly with
the back of his hand, his face full of love, fear, regret — so many emotions at
once — and his words are my undoing. Overwhelmed, a strangled sob escapes
from no constricted throat, and i start to cry

"No, baby, no. Please don't cry." He reaches over and, despite the limited
space we have, pulls me over the handbrake console to cradle mc in his lap.
Smoothing my h in i t I i t then in hecks and I curl my



arms around him and sob quietly ink) his neck, lie buric- his nose in my hair and
wraps me in his arm-- holding me lighi and w e sit. neither of us saying anything,
just holding each other.

Sawyer's voice startles us. "The unsub has slowed outside Escala. He's cas-
ing the joint."

"Follow him." C hristian snaps.

I w ipe my nose on the back of my hand and take a deep Meads ing breath.
"Use my shin." Christian kisses my temple.
"Sorry," I mutter, embarrassed by my crying.

I wipe my nose again. I [e lips m> chin up and plants a gentle kiss on my lips.
"Yom hps arc so s< i i its beautiful, bt i! he whispers.

"Kiss me again."

( hrislian stills, one hand on my back, the other on my behind.

"Kiss me," I breathe, and 1 watch his lips pan as he inhales sharply. Leaning
across me, he takes ti B I out of it ra< ind I s it onto the driver's
scat 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 [ace. running ms lingers os cr his sideburns, relishing the
taste of him. He groans at my fevered response, low and deep in his throat, and
n 1 I !i n i| 1 1 i 1 iki iih "i i n i! h nd moscs dossn my

y. brushing m u n n to my 1 i 1 1 1 I lis

"Ah!" he s is n ! I m me. breal les

'"What?" 1 mutter against his lips.

"Ana, we're in a car lot in Seattle."

"So?"

"Well, right now 1 want to fuck you, and you're shifting around on me . . .
it's uncomfortable."

My craving spirals out of control at his words, lightening all ms muscles be-
low 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 Ten d s ing . . . and the fear has jump-started my
libido, lie leans hack In gaze a; 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, al'ici what feels like an cteinilw His hand lightens
around my hair at my nape, holding me firmly in plaee. and his mouth is on mine
again, more forceful this lime His 1 n I si n i n my body, down over
my behind and lower still to my mid-thigh. My fingers curl into his o et long hair.

"I'm so glad you irii i kill i m rn t 1 ips his hand beneath

my blue and white patterned skirt to caress my thigh. 1 squirm once more on his

"Keep still," he growls. He cups my sex with his hand, and I still immedi-
ately. 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 thiough 1 I r fin i t c ner nndcrw cai Slowly he eases




"Oh, Mrs. Grey. You're so ready," he says, sliding his fingers in and out, tor-
tuously 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
mc and swings mc 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 raic, his hands down m thighs, then back, pulling up my skin.

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

Sliii! We reall> are going to do tins, in a public parking lot. 1 quickly scan the
area in front of us and see no one, but feel a thrill coursing through me. I'm in a
11 1 1 i i I I hear the telltale sound

of his zipper. Putting one arm around m> waist and with his other hand tugging
my lacy panties sideways, he impales me in one swift move.



"Ah!" I cry oul rinding down on him, ai 1 i h his

teeth. His arm snake-, around sue up lo nn 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 throal. His oilier hand grips m hip and together we start to

I push up with nn feel, and lie lihs himself into me in and out. The sensa-
tion is ... I groan loudly. It's so deep this way. My left hand curls around the
hand brake, my right hand braced against nn 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 Ins hand around beneath my skirt to the
apex of my thighs and I is i igei enll '.. e n; .in s lirough the sheer finery
of my panties.

"Ah!"

"Be. Quick." he breathes into nn car ihrough grilled teeth, his hand still
curled around my neck beneath my chin. " c need lo do lliis quick, Ana." And he
increases the pressure ol his lingers against nn sex.

II i i i m i i 1 I s i I n ep and thick inside

"Come on, baby," he rasps at my ear. "1 want to hear you."

I moan again, and I am all sensation, my eyes tightly closed. His voice at my
ear, his breath on ms i plcasi e idiating oul ron here his fingers tease nn
body and where he shims deep inside me, and I am lost. My body takes control,

"Yes," Christian hisses in my ear and I open my eyes briefly, staring wildly

"Oh, Ana," he murmurs in wonder, and he wraps his arms around me and

He runs his nose along my jaw and softly kisses my throat, my cheek, my

I ' I c II 11 II e l ! I I i I

"Tension relieved Mis. Circs?" Christian closes his teeth around my earlobe
again and tugs. My bods is drained, totalis exhausted, and I mewl. I feel his smile
against me.

"Certainly helped with mine," he adds, shifting me off him. "Lost your
"Yes," 1 murmur.



"Well aren't you the wanton creature? I had no idea you were such an
exhibitionist."

1 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.

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Let's head back. I'll

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

"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?"

"So it would appear." lie sa>s quietly. Hi» mouth presses into a thin angry
line. "Let's get you home." he mutters, tie starts up the R8 with a roar and re-
verses smoothly out of the space.

■'Where's the, er . . . unsub? What does thai mean by the way? Sounds very

Christian smiles briefly as he eases the car out of the lot and back onto Stew-
art Street.

"It stands for Unknown Subject. Ryan is ex-FBI."
"Ex-FBI?"

"Don't ask." Christian shakes his head. It's obvious he's deep in
contemplation.

"Well, where is this female unsub?"

"On the 1-5, heading south." i le glanees at me. his eyes grim.
Jeez — from passionate to calm to anxious in the space of a few moments. I
reach over and caress his thigh, running m; lingers leisurely up the inside seam of



his jeans, hoping u> improve his mood, lie lakes his hand oil" the steering wheel
and stops the slow ascent of my hand.

"No," he says. "We've made it this far. You don't want me to have an acci-
dent three blocks from home." He raises my hand to his lips and plants a cool kiss
on my index finger to take the sting out of his rebuke. Cool, calm, authoritat-
ive .. . My Fifty. And for the first lime in a while he makes me feel like a way-
ward child. I withdraw my hand and sit quietly for a moment.

"Female?"

"Apparently so He gh tun i t< the tin ergi and _ n lge at Escala, and
punches the access code into die securit} keypad. The gale swings open and he
drie i II; ii I I I

"I really like this car," I murmur.

"Me too. And I like how you handled it — and how you managed not to break

"You can buy me one for my birthday," I smirk at him.

"A while one. I think 1 idd i Ii n lii ing i hin



I gasp. And a sleek silvei BMW palls into the garage. C hrislian glances at il

"But it looks like we hav e company. C time." I Ic grabs m hand and heads for
the garage elevator, lie pushes the call button and as we wait, the driver of the
11 ii 1 ! ii i I ill I ivercd, dark hair. He

looks like he works in the media.

"Hi," he says, smiling warmly at us.

Christian puts his arm around me and nods politely.

"I've just moved in. Apartment sixteen."
ill n his smile. I le has kii i eye

The elevator arrives and we all « a Ik in. (hrislian glances down at me, his ex-
pression unreadable.



""Win' re Christian Grey," the young man says.
C hrislian gics him a light smile

"Noah Logan." He holds out his hand. Reluctantly, Christian takes it. "Which
floor'.'" Noah asks.

"I have to input a code."
"Oh."

"Penthouse."

"Oh." Noah smiles broadly. "< )f course.'' 1 le presses the button for the eighth
floor and the doors close. "Mrs. Grey, I presume."

"Yes." I give him a polite smile and we shake hands. Noah flushes a little as
he gazes at mc a fraction loo lone. ! minor his flush and C hristian's arm tightens

"When did you move in?" I ask.
"Lasl w eekend. I love lire place."

There's an awkward pause before the elevator stops at Noah's floor.

"Great to meet you both," he says sounding relieved and steps out. The doors
close silently behind him. ( hrislian laps in lire cutty code and the elevator ascends
again.

"He seemed nice." 1 murmur. "I'e necr mel an of the neighbors before."
C hrislian scowls. "I prefer it that way."

"Thai's because oifre a hermit. 1 though! he was pleasant enough."
"A hermit?"

"Hermit. Stuck in your ivory tower," I state matter-of-factly. Christian's lips

your admirers, Mrs. Grey."

I roll my eyes. "Christian, you think everyone is an admirer."

"Did you just roll your eyes at mc?"
h, pul ill lid." I win i I 1 ill

He cocks his head to one side, wealing his smoldering, arrogant, amused ex-
pression. "What shall we do about that?"

"Something rough."

He blinks to hide his surprise. "Rough?"
"Please."

"You want more?"



I nod slowly. The doors to the elevator open and we're home.
"How rough?" he breathes, his eyes darkening.

1 gaze at him, saying nothing. He closes his eyes for a moment, and then

II 1! 1 l! I 01

When wc burst through the double doors. Sa>er is standing in the hallway,
lookit iccla tl it ill 1 o ol us.

"Sawyer, I'd like to be debriefed in an hour," Christian says.
"Yes, sir." Turning. Sawyer heads back into TaWor's olTiee.
We have an hour!

Christian glances down at me. "Rough?"
I nod.

"Well, Mrs. Grey, you're in luck. I'm taking requests today."



Chapter Six



"Do you have anything in mind'.'" Christian murmurs, pinning me with his bold
gaze. I shrug suddu , 1 i i 11 i 1 1 1 it s the chase, the

adrenaline, my earlier bad mood — 1 don't understand, but I want this, and I want
il badly. A puzzled expression Hits across Christian's lace. " Kinky fuckery?" he
asks, his words a soft caress.

I nod, feeling m> lace (lame. Win urn I embarrassed In this? I have done all
mannei kinky fuel ilh this man. // //;//? // Am I embar-

rassed because I nam this and I'm ashamed to admit it" M> subconscious glares
at me. Stop overthinking.



"Carte blanche?" lie whispers the question, owing me speculatively as if
he's trying to read my mind.

Carte blanche? Holy fuck— what will that entail? "Yes," I murmur
nervously, as cxcikn I leep inside II it. slow sexy smile.

"Come," he say i i _ ic i< ird ill in I u nlion is clear. Play-
room! My inner goddess w akes from her post-R8-se. slumber. w ide-cyed and rar-
ing to go.

At the top of the stairs, he releases my hand and unlocks the playroom door,
rhe ke 01 ill. s 1 i. Iniin that I g e him not so long ago.

"After you, Mrs. Grey," he says and swings the door open.

The playroom smells reas-,uringl> familiar, of leather and wood and fresh
polish. I blush, know ing thai Mrs Jones must hu e been in here cleaning w hile wc
were away on our honey moon. As wc enter, Christian switches on the lights and
the dark red walls tire illuminated w ith soft, diffused light. I stand gazing a' him.
anticipation running thick and heavy through my eins. Il'ltai will he do? He locks
the door and turns. Inclining his head to one side, he regards me thoughtfully and
then shakes his head, amused.

"What do you want. Anuslusiu?" he asks gently.

"You." My response is breathy.

"Surprise me then, Mr. Grey."

Mrs. Grey." He folds his arms and raises one long index finger to his lips w hile he
appraises me. "I think we'll start by ridding you of your clothes." He steps for-
ward. Grasping the from of m_ short denim jacket, he opens it and pushes it over
my shoulders so it falls to the floor. He clasps the hem of my black camisole.
"Lilt your arms."

I obey, and he peels it off over my head. Leaning down, he plants a soft kiss
on my lips, his eyes glowing w nit an alluring mix of lust and love. The camisole
joins my jacket on the floor.

"Here," I whisper gazing nervously at him as I remove the hair tie from
around my wrist and hold it up for him. He stills, and his eyes w iden briefly but
gic nothing away. Finally . he take-, the small band.

"Turn around," he orders.



Relieved, I Mini ion In li mici I > ks like we've over-

come that little hurdle. 1 1 n ir and braids it qui 1 licienl

lore 1'aslening i! w ill! [he lie lie lugs ill-: braid, pulling m> head back.

"Good thinking, Mrs. Grey," he whispers in my ear, then nips my carlobc.
"Now turn around an 1 ke our skirl oil'. Lei il ill I I he II 101 ' He releases me
and steps back as I turn to face him. Not taking my eyes off his, I unbutton the
waistband of my ska i leased zip er dt" rhc id 1 1 io lans out and falls to
the floor, pooling at my feet.

"Step out from otir skirl " he order-. As 1 slep toward him. he kneels swiftly
down in front of me and gi -n in i lIii , nkle Delil he unbuckles m ndab
one at a time while I lean forward, balancing myself with a hand on the wall under
the pegs that used lo hold all his whips, crops and paddles. The llogger and die
riding crop arc the onl implements dial remain. I c; e then: > ith curiosity. Will he

I lax ing removed my shoes so I'm just in my lacy bra and panties, Christian

denly he kneels up i > n h md pulls me ird. I irying his nose in the
apex of my thighs. "And you smell of you and me and sex," he says inhaling
sharply. "It's intoxicating." lie kisses me through my lace panties, while 1 gasp at
his words — my insii - - I |ticf ng lie's |ust so . . . naughty. Gathering up m>
clothes and sandals, he stands in one swift, graceful move, like an athlete.

11c glances back and smirks at me. 'l ace the wall." lie commands. "That way
wanted a surprise."

I turn away from him listening acutely — my ears suddenly sensitive to the
slightest sound. He's good at this — building my expectations, stoking my de-
sire . . . making me wait. I hear him put my shoes down and, I think, my clothes
on the chest, followed by the telltale clatter of his shoes as they drop to the floor,
one at a time. Hmm . . . love barefoot C hristian. A moment later. I hear him pull
open a drawer.

Toys! Oh, I love, love, love this anticipation. The drawer closes and my
breathing spikes. How can the sound of a drawer render me a quivering mess .' It
makes no sense. Th s , I it mnd syslet coi ing lo life tells me it's



going to be a music,:! interlude. A lone piano starts, muted and soft, and mournful
chords fill the room. It's not a tune I know - live piano is joined by an electric gui-
tar. What is this? A man's voice speaks and I can just make out the words,
.Mlli.ii ml I ing _ ted of dying.

Christian pads leisurely toward me, his bare feet slapping on the wooden
floor. I sense htm i hit I me as a a i Li losing wail ... sing?

"Rough, you say, Mrs. Grey?" he breathes in my left ear.

"You must tell me to stop if it's too much. If you say stop, I will stop imme-
diately. Do you understand?"
"Yes."

"I need your promise."

I inhale sharply ' I promise." 1 murmur breath-

less, recalling his words from earlier / don 'i want to hurt you, but I'm more than
happy to play.

"Good girl." Leaning down, he plants a kiss on my naked shoulder then
hooks a finger beneath my bra strap and traces a line across m back beneath the
strap. I want to moan. How does he make the slightest touch so erotic?

"Take it off." he « hisper.s at m car. and ImrrieJK 1 oblige and let my bra fall
to the floor.

His hands skim down my back, and he hooks both of his thumbs into my
panties and slides them down my legs.

"Step," he orders. Once more I do as I'm told, stepping out of my panties. He
plants a kiss on my backside and stands.

"1 am going to blindfold you so that everything will be more intense." He
slips an airline eye mask over my eyes, and my world is plunged into the dark-
ness. The woman singing moans incoherently ... a haunting, heartfelt melody.

"Bend down and lie flat on the table." His words are softly spoken. "Now."

Without hesitation, I bend over the side of the table and rest my torso on the
highly polished w oc t i hilt It s cool against my

skin and it smells vaguely of beeswax with a citrus tang.

" Stretch your arms up and hold on to the edge."

Okay . . . Rcachn • I'on I I ul hi Mb table It's quite wide,

so my arms are fully extended.

"If you let go, I will spank you. Do you understand?"



"Yes."

"Do you want mc to spank yoi

Everything south of my waist
ice lie threatened me during kmc
timatc encounter has sated this nt

"Yes." My voice is a hoarse w

"Why?"



And from out of now here lie smacks me hard.



here I t me. Then h ns < i I

s a kiss between my shoulder blades and trails

i 11 hi i 1 tickles my I

ic through the rough fabric of his jeans.



"We're going to ha e w itls some fun w ilh this." he whispers.

Fuck!

1 1 1 i i i 1 i

"I see you're very wet, Anastasia. From earlier or from now?"
I groan and he eases his finger in and out of me, over and over. I push back
i ins hand, relishing the intrusion.

"Oh, Ana. I think it's both, i think sou lose being here, like this. Mine."
I do — oh, 1 do. Hew it ltd raw s his finger and smacks me hard once more.
"Tell mc," he whispet .. his oice bourse and urgent.
"Yes, I do," I whimper.



"What arc ou going u> do?" I ask. breathless. OA my . . . Is lie gain!; to luck

"It's not what you think," he murmurs reassuringly. "I told you, one step at
time with this, baby." I hear the quiet spurt of some liquid, presumably from a
tube, then his fii s are m in 11 igain. I tic ling in 1