50 Shades Freed by E.L. Woods

He reaches for his zipper and my mouth goes dry as his erection springs free.

He smirks “You like?” he whispers.

“Hmm,” I murmur appreciatively.  He wraps his hand around himself and moves it up and down… Oh my. I gaze up at him through my lashes.  Fuck, he’s so sexy.

“You’re biting your lip, Mrs. Grey.”

That’s because I’m hungry.”

“Hungry?” His mouth opens in surprise, and his eyes widen a fraction.

“Hmm…” I agree and lick my lips.

He gives me a his enigmatic smile and bites his lower lip as he continues to stroke himself. Why is the sight of my husband pleasuring himself such a turn-on?

“I see. You should have eaten your dinner.” He tone is mocking and censorious at once. “But maybe I can oblige.” He puts his hands on my waist. “Stand,” he says softly, and I know what he’s going to do. I get to my feet, my legs no longer shaking”

“Kneel.”

I do as I’m told and kneel down on the col tiled floor of the bathroom. He slides forward on the seat of the chair.

“Kiss me,” he utters, holding his erection. I glance up at him, and he runs his tongue over his top teeth. It’s arousing, very arousing, to see his desire, his naked desire for me and my mouth. Leaning forward, my eyes on his, I kiss the tip of his erection.  I watch him inhale sharply and clench his teeth.  Christina cups the side of my head, and I run my tongue over the tip, tasting the small bead of dew on the end. Hmm… he tastes good. His mouth drops open farther as he gasps and I pounce, pulling him into my mouth and sucking hard.

“Ah-“ the air hisses through his teetch, and he flexes his hips forward, thrusting into my mouth. But I don’t stop. Sheathing my teeth behind my lips, I push down and then pull up on him. He moves both hands so that he fully cups my head, buring his finger into my hair and he slowly eases himself in and out of my mouth, his breathing quickening, growing harsher. I twirl my tongue around his tip and push down again in perfect counterpoint to him.

“Jesus, Ana.” He sighes and screws his eyes shut tightly.  He’s lost and it’s heady, his response to me. Me. And very slowly I draw my lips back, so it’s just my teeth.

“Ah!” Christian stops moving. Leaning forward he grabs me and pulls me onto his lap.

“Enough!” he growls. Reach behind me, he frees my hands with one tug on my panties. I flex my wrists and stare from under my lashes into scorching eyes that gaze back at me with love and longing and lust. And I realise it’s me that wants to fuck him seven shades of Sunday. I want him badly.  I want to watch him come apart beneath me. I grab his erection and scoot over him. Placing my other hand on his shoulder, very gently and slowly, I ease myself onto him.  He makes a guttural, feral noise deep in his throat and, reaching up, pulls off my blouse, letting it fall to the floor. His hands move to my hips.

“Still,” he rasps, his hands digging into my flesh. “Please, let me savor this. Savor you.”

I stop. Oh my… he feels so good inside me. He caresses my face, his eyes wide and wild, his lips parted as he breathes. He flexes  beneath me and I moan, closing my eyes.

“This is my favorite place,” he whispers. “Inside you. Inside my wife.”

Oh fuck. Christian.  I cannot hold back. My fingers glide into his wet hair, my lips seek his, and I start to move. Up and down on my toes, savoring him, savoring me. He groans loudly, and his hands are in my hair and around my back, and his tongue invades my mouth greedily, taking all that I’m willingly give. After all our arguing today, my frustration with  him, his with me – we still have this.  We will always have this. I love him so much, and it’s almost overwhelming. His hands move to my backside and he controls me, moving me up and down, again and again, at his pace – his hot, slick tempo.

“Ah,” I groan helplessly into his mouth as I’m carried away.

“Yes. Yes, Ana,” He hisses, and I rain kisses on his face, his chin, his jaw, his neck. “Baby,” he breathes, capturing my mouth once more.

“Oh, Christian, I love you. I will always love you.” I’m breathless, wanting him to know, wanting him to be sure of me after our battle of wills today.

He moans loudly and wraps his arms around me tightly as he climaxes with a mournful sob, and it’s enough – enough to push me over the bring once more. I clutch my arms around his head and let go, and I come around him, tears springing to my eyes because I love him so much.

“Shit! Christ!” Christina curses, and a dish clatters onto the countertop.

Oh Fifty!  “You okay?”

“Yes!” he snaps, his voice tight. A moment later, he’s standing beside me once more.

“I just burned myself. Here.” He eases his index finger into my mouth. “Maybe you could suck it better.”

“Oh.” Clasping his hand, I draw his finger slowly from my mouth. “There, there,” I soothe, and leaning forward I blow, cooling his finger, then kissing it gently twice. He stops breathing. I reinsert it into my mouth and suck gently. He inhales sharply, and the sound travels straight to my groin. He tastes as delicious as ever, and I realize that his is his game – the slow sedecution of his wife. I thought he was mad, and now…? This man, my husband, is so confusing. But this is how I like him. Playful. Fun. Sexy as hell. He’s given me some answers but I’m greedy. I want more, but I want to play, too. After the anxiety and tension of today, and the nightmare of last night with Jack, this is welcome diversion.

“What are you thinking?” Christian murmurs, stopping my thoughts in their tracks as he pulls  his finger out of my mouth.

“How mercurial you are.”

He stills beside me. “Fifty Shades, baby,” he says eventually and plants a tender kiss at the corner of my mouth.

“My Fifty Shades,” I whisper. Grabbing his T-shirt, I pull him back to me.

“Oh no you don’t, Mrs. Grey. No touching… not yet.” He takes my hand, pries it off his T-shirt and kisses each finger in turn.

“Sit up,” he commands.

I pout.

“I will spank you if you pout. Now open wide.”

Oh shit. I open my mouth, and he pops in a forkful of spicy hot lamb covered in a cool, minty, yougert sauce. Mmm. I chew.