Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 77

“The money.”

She shoots me an unreadable look and pushes the dish of almonds and cashews toward me. “You’re

nuts, sir.” I notice her half smile. She’s trying not to laugh. At me. Again. NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

My plan crystalizes in my mind. “I’m nuts about you.”

And that’s the truth.

I take a cashew as I recall that night after her bachelorette party: Ana in bed, naked, holding out her

hands to me.

“Are you going to punish me?”

“Punish you?”

“For getting this drunk. A punishment fuck. You can do anything you want to me.”

The thought stirs my blood. She wants punishing. It would be rude of me not to oblige. “Drink up. We’re

going to bed.”

She gapes at me.

“Drink,” I tell her, quietly.

Ana raises her glass to her lips and drains it in one long gulp.

Wow. Without hesitating, my courageous girl has picked up the gauntlet.

She never backs down.

Game on, Grey.

Standing up, I lean over, resting my hands on the arms of her director’s chair, and murmur against her

ear, “I’m going to make an example of you. Come. Don’t pee.”

Her gasp is gratifying, and her face is a picture of shock.

I smirk, knowing where her mind has gone.

No, Ana, don’t sweat it, that’s not my scene.

“It’s not what you think.” I hold out my hand. “Trust me?”

Her lips lift in a come-hither smile. “Okay.” She places her hand in mine, and together we make our way

to the master cabin.

Once inside, I release Ana and lock the door. We don’t want to be disturbed. Quickly, I strip out of my

clothes and remove my flip-flops, which I shouldn’t be wearing anyway, but the crew are too polite to

tell me.

Ana is watching me, wide-eyed, unconsciously chewing her bottom lip. I grasp her chin, freeing her

plump lower lip, and skim my thumb over the little indentations her teeth have left. “That’s better.”

From inside the armoire I retrieve my bag of toys and produce two pairs of ankle-to-wrist cuffs, the key

for them, and an eye mask. Ana hasn’t moved. Her eyes are darker than before.

She’s turned on, Grey.

Let’s blow her mind.

“These can be quite painful.” I hold up a pair so that she has a better view of them. “They can bite into

the skin if you pull too hard. But I really want to use them on you now. Here.” I step toward her and

hand her one set. “Do you want to try them first?” I keep my voice gentle, while trying to keep a grip on

my libido.

I want this.

Big-time.

Ana examines the cuffs, turning the cold metal over in her hand. The sight of her handling them is

erotic enough. “Where are the keys?” she asks, her voice wavering.

I open the palm of my hand, revealing the key. “This does both sets. In fact, all sets.” She looks from

my palm to my face, her eyes full of questions, full of curiosity…full of yearning. I caress her cheek with

my index finger, trailing it down to her mouth and across her lips. Leaning in, as if to kiss her, I breathe,

“Do you want to play?”

“Yes,” she answers almost inaudibly.

“Good.” I take a deep breath, inhaling her unique scent: Ana and a hint of her arousal.

Already!

Closing my eyes, I pour my gratitude into the gentle kiss I plant on her forehead.

Thank you for this, my love.

“We’re going to need a safe word.”

Ana shoots her eyes to mine.

“Stop won’t be enough,” I continue hastily, “because you will probably say that, but you won’t mean it.” I

run my nose down hers.

Trust me, Ana.

“This is not going to hurt. It will be intense. Very intense, because I am not going to let you move.

Okay?”

She inhales sharply, her breathing labored as her excitement builds.

I love turning you on, baby.

Her eyes drift down to my cock.

Yeah, baby. I’m ready and waiting.

“Okay,” she whispers.

“Choose a word, Ana.”

A soft furrow puckers her brow.

“A safe word,” I clarify.

“Popsicle,” she blurts, breathy and flustered.

“Popsicle?” I want to laugh.

“Yes.”

“Interesting choice. Lift up your arms.”

She does as she’s told—which turns me on, too—and I raise her dress over her head, discarding it on

the floor. Holding out my palm, she surrenders the handcuffs, and I place those and the other cuffs,

key, and blindfold on the nightstand. I yank the quilt off the bed and let it fall to the floor.

“Turn around,” I order.

She complies immediately, and I undo her bikini top, letting it fall to the floor. “Tomorrow, I will staple

this to you,” I mutter, and a kernel of an idea sprouts in my mind.

Love-bites.

I free her hair from its ponytail and gather it in my hand, tugging gently so she’s forced to step back

against me. Angling her head to one side, I glide my lips from her shoulder to her ear. “You were very

disobedient.”

“Yes,” she says, as if she’s proud of herself.

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