My left hand skims over my sex, and I rub in a slow circle, my mouth an O as I pant.
"Again," he whispers.
I groan louder and repeat the move and tip my head back, gasping.
"Again."
I moan loudly, and Christian inhales sharply. Grabbing my hands, he bends down, running his nose then his tongue back and forth at the apex of my thighs.
"Ah!"
I want to touch him, but when I try to move my hands, his fingers tighten around my wrists.
"I'll restrain these, too. Keep still."
I groan. He releases me then eases his middle two fingers inside me, the heel of his hand resting against my clitoris.
"I'm going to make you come quickly, Ana. Ready?"
"Yes," I pant.
He starts to move his fingers, his hand, up and down, rapidly, assaulting both that sweet spot inside me and my clitoris at the same time. Ah! The feeling is intense - really intense. Pleasure builds and spikes throughout the lower half of my body. I want to stretch my legs, but I can't. My hands claw at the towel beneath me.
"Surrender," Christian whispers.
I explode around his fingers, crying out incoherently. He presses the heel of his hand against my clitoris as the aftershocks run through my body, prolonging the delicious agony.
Vaguely, I'm aware that he's untying my legs.
"My turn," he murmurs, and flips me over so I am face down on the sofa with my knees on the floor. He spreads my legs and slaps me hard across my behind.
"Ah!" And in one swift move with no preamble whatsoever, he's inside me.
"Oh, Ana," he hisses through clenched teeth as he starts to move. His fingers grip me hard around my hips as he grinds into me over and over. And I'm building again . No . . . Ah . . .
"Come on, Ana!" Christian shouts, and I shatter once more, pulsing around him and crying out as I come.
"Life-affirming enough for you?" Christian kisses my hair.
"Oh, yes," I murmur, gazing up at the ceiling. I am lying on my husband, my back to his front, both of us on the floor beside the sofa. He's still dressed.
"I think we should go again. No clothes for you this time."
"Christ, Ana. Give a man a chance."
I giggle and he chuckles. "I'm glad Ray's conscious. Seems all your appetites are back," he says, not disguising the smile in his voice. I turn over and scowl at him. "Are you forgetting about last night and this morning?" I pout.
"Nothing forgettable about either of those." He grins, and when he does, he looks so young and carefree and happy. He cups my behind.
"You have a fantastic ass, Mrs. Grey."
"So do you." I arch a brow at him. "Though yours is still under cover."
"And what are you going to do about that, Mrs. Grey?"
"Why, I'm going to undress you, Mr. Grey. All of you."
He grins.
"And I think there's a lot that's sweet about you," I murmur, referring to the song still playing on repeat. His smile fades. Oh no.
"You are," I whisper. I lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth.
He closes his eyes and tightens his arms around me.
"Christian, you are. You made this weekend so special - in spite of what happened to Ray. Thank you."
He opens his large, serious gray eyes, and his expression tugs at my heart.
"Because I love you," he murmurs.
"I know. I love you, too." I reach up and caress his face. "And you're precious to me, too. You do know that, don't you?"
His stills, looking lost.
Oh, Christian . . . My sweet Fifty.
"Believe me," I whisper.
"It's not easy." His voice is almost inaudible.
"Try. Try hard, because it's true." I stroke his face once more, my fingers brushing against his sideburns. He gazes at me, eyes wide, gray oceans of loss and hurt and pain. I want to climb into his body and hold him. Anything to stop that look. When will he realize that he means the world to me? That he's more than worthy of my love, the love of his parents - his siblings? I have told him over and over, and yet here we are as Christian gives me his lost, abandoned look. Time. It will just take time.
"You'll get cold. Come." He rises gracefully to his feet and pulls me up to stand beside him. I slip my arm around his waist as we wander back into the bedroom. I won't push him, but since Ray's accident, it's become more important to me that he knows how much I love him. As we enter the bedroom, I frown, desperate to recover the very welcome lighthearted mood of only a few moments ago.
"Shall we watch TV?" I ask.
Christian snorts. "I was hoping for round two." And my mercurial Fifty is back. I arch my brow and stop by the bed.
"Well, in that case, I think I'll be in charge."
He gapes at me. I push him onto the bed and quickly straddle him, pinning his hands down beside his head.
He grins up at me. "Well, Mrs. Grey, now you've got me. What are you going to do with me?"
I lean down and whisper in his ear, "I am going to f**k you with my mouth."
He closes his eyes, inhaling sharply, and I run my teeth gently along his jaw.
Christian is working at the computer. It's a bright early morning, and he's tapping out an e-mail, I think.
"Good morning," I murmur shyly from the doorway. He turns and smiles at me.
"Mrs. Grey. You're up early." He holds open his arms. I bolt across the suite and curl into his lap. "As are you."
"I was just working." He shifts as he kisses my hair.
"What?" I ask, sensing something wrong.
He sighs. "I got an e-mail from Detective Clark. He wants to talk to you about that f**ker Hyde."