chaptereleven

“ha一veyounow?”iwhisper.mymouthgoesdrierstill,myheartpoundingin

mychest.why’shedressedlikethis?whatdoesitmean?

ishestillsulking?

“iha一ve.”hisvoiceiskittensoft,buthe’ssmirkingashestrollsclosertome.

holycraphelookshot—hisjeanshanging,thatway,fromhiships.ohno,i’m

notgoingtobedistractedbymr.sex-on-legs.itrytogaugehismoodashe

stalkstowardme.angry?playful?lustful?gah!it’simpossibletotell.

“ilikeyourjeans,”imurmur.hegrinsadisarmingwolfishgrinthatdoesn’t

reachhiseyes.shit—he’sstillmad.he’swearingthesetodistractme...

hehaltsinfrontofme,andi’msearedbyhisintensity.hegazesdown,wide

unreadableeyesburningintomine.iswallow.

“iunderstandyouha一veissues,mrs.grey,”hesayssilkily,andhepulls

somethingfromthebackpocketofhisjeans.ican’ttearmygazefromhis

buthearhimunfoldapieceofpaper.heholdsitup,andglancingbrieflyinits

direction,irecognizemye-mail.mygazereturnstohis,ashiseyesblaze

brightwithanger.

“yes,iha一veissues,”iwhisper,feelingbreathless.ineeddistanceifwe’re

goingtodiscussthis.butbeforeicanstepback,heleansdownandrunshis

nosealongmine.myeyesfluttertoacloseasiwelcomehisunexpected,

gentletouch.

“sodoi,”hewhispersagainstmyskin,andiopenmyeyesathiswords.he

straightensandgazesintentlyatmeoncemore.

“ithinki’mfamiliarwithyourissues,christian.”myvoiceiswry,andhe

narrowshiseyes,suppressingtheamusementthatsparksthere

momentarily.arewegoingtofight?itakeaprecautionarystepback.imust

physicallydistancemyselffromhim—fromhissmell,hislook,hisdistracting

bodyinthosehotjeans.hefrownsasimoveaway.

“whydidyouflybackfromnewyork?”iwhisper.let’sgetthisoverand

donewith.

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fiftyshadesfreed

“youknowwhy.”histonecarriesawarningring.

“becauseiwentoutwithkate?”

“becauseyouwentbackonyourwordandyoudefiedme—puttingyourself

atunnecessaryrisk.”

“wentbackonmyword?isthathowyouseeit?”igasp,ignoringtherestof

hissentence.

“yes.”

holycrap.talkaboutoverreaction!istarttorollmyeyesbutstopwhenhe

scowlsatme.“christian,ichangedmymind,”iexplainslowly,patientlyasif

he’sachild.“i’mawoman.we’rerenownedforit.that’swhatwedo.”

heblinksatmeasifhedoesn’tcomprehendthis.

“ifihadthoughtforoneminutethatyouwouldcancelyourbusinesstrip...”

wordsfailme.irealizeidon’tknowwhattosay.iammomentarilycatapulted

backtotheargumentoverourvows.ineverpromisedtoobeyyou,

christian.butiholdmytongue,becausedeepdowni’mgladhecameback.

inspiteofhisfury,i’mgladhe’shereinonepiece,angryandsmolderingin

frontofme.

“youchangedyourmind?”hecan’thidehiscontemptuousdisbelief.

“yes.”

“andyoudidn’tthinktocallme?”heglaresatme,incredulous,before

continuing.“what’smore,youleftthesecuritydetailshorthereandputryan

atrisk.”

oh.ihadn’tthoughtaboutthat.

“ishouldha一vecalled,butididn’twanttoworryyou.ifihad,i’msureyouwould

ha一veforbiddenmetogoandi’vemissedkate.iwantedtoseeher.besides,

itkeptmeoutofthewaywhenjackwashere.ryanshouldn’tha一velethim

in.”thisissoconfusing.ifryanhadn’t,jackwouldstillbeatlarge.

christian’seyesgleamwildly,thenshut,hisfacetighteningasifinpain.oh

no.what’shegoingtodo?heshakeshishead,andbeforeiknowithehas

foldedmeinhisarms,pullingmehardagainsthim.

“ohana,”hewhispersashetightenshisholdonmesothaticanbarely

breathe.“ifsomethingweretohappentoyou—”hisvoiceisbarelya

whisper.

“itdidn’t,”imanagetosay.

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eljames

“butitcouldha一ve.i’vediedathousanddeathstodaythinkingaboutwhat

mightha一vehappened.iwassomad,ana.madatyou.madatmyself.mad

ateveryone.ican’trememberbeingthisangry...except—”hestopsagain.

oh?

“except?”iprompt.

“onceinyouroldapartment.whenleilawasthere.”

oh.then.idon’twanttothinkaboutthat.

“youweresocoldthismorning,”imurmur.myvoicecracksonthelastword

asirememberthehideousfeelingofrejectionintheshower.hishands

movetothenapeofmyneck,looseningtheirgriponme,anditakeadeep

breath.hepullsmyheadback.

“idon’tknowhowtodealwiththisanger.idon’tthinkiwanttohurtyou,”he

says,hiseyeswideandwary.“thismorning,iwantedtopunishyou,badly

and—”hestops,lostforwordsithink,ortooafraidtosaythem.

“youwereworriedyou’dhurtme?”ifinishhissentenceforhim,notbelieving

thathe’dhurtmeforaminute,butrelieved,too.asmallviciouspartofme

feareditwasbecausehedidn’twantmeanymore.

“ididn’ttrustmyself,”hesaysquietly.

“christian,iknowyou’dneverhurtme.notphysically,anyway.”iclasphis

headbetweenmyhands.

“doyou?”heasks,andthere’sskepticisminhisvoice.

“yes.iknewwhatyousaidwasanempty,idlethreat.iknowyou’renotgoing

tobeattheshitoutofme.”

“iwantedto.”

“noyoudidn’t.youjustthoughtyoudid.”

“idon’tknowifthat’strue,”hemurmurs.

“thinkaboutit,”iurge,wrappingmyarmsaroundhimoncemoreand

nuzzlinghischestthroughtheblackt-shirt.“abouthowyoufeltwhenileft.

you’vetoldmeoftenenoughwhatthatdidtoyou.howitalteredyourviewof

theworld,ofme.iknowwhatyou’vegivenupforme.thinkabouthowyoufelt

aboutthecuffmarksonourhoneymoon.”

hestills,andiknowhe’sprocessingthisinformation.itightenmyarms

aroundhim,myhandsonhisback,feelinghistauttonedmuscles219|pag

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fiftyshadesfreed

beneathhist-shirt.gradually,herelaxesasthetensionslowlyebbsaway.

isthiswhat’sbeenworryinghim?thathe’llhurtme?whydoiha一vemore

faithinhimthanhehasinhimself?idon’tunderstand,surelywe’vemoved

on.he’snormallysostrong,soincontrol,butwithoutthat,he’slost.ohfifty,

fifty,fifty—i’msorry.hekissesmyhair,anditurnmyfaceuptohis,andhis

lipsfindmine,searching,taking,giving,begging—forwhat,idon’tknow.i

justwanttofeelhismouthonmine,andireturnhiskisspassionately.

“youha一vesuchfaithinme,”hewhispersafterhebreaksaway.

“ido.”hestrokesmyfacewiththebackofhisknucklesandthetipofhis

thumb,gazingintentlyintomyeyes.hisangerhasgone.myfiftyisback

fromwhereverhe’sbeen.it’sgoodtoseehim.iglanceshylyupandsmirk.

“besides,”iwhisper,“youdon’tha一vethepaperwork.”

hismouthdropsopeninamusedshock,andheclutchesmetohischest

again.

“you’reright.idon’t,”helaughs.

westandinthemiddleofthegreatroom,lockedinourembrace,justholding

eachother.

“cometobed,”hewhispers,afterhea一venknowshowlong.ohmy...

“christian,weneedtotalk.”

“later,”heurgessoftly.

“christian,please.talktome.”

hesighs.“aboutwhat?”

hesighs.“aboutwhat?”

“youknow.youkeepmeinthedark.”

“iwanttoprotectyou.”

“i’mnotachild.”

“iamfullyawareofthat,mrs.grey.”herunshishandsdownmybodyand

cupsmybackside.flexinghishipshepresseshisgrowingerectionintome.

“christian!”iscold.“talktome.”

hesighsoncemorewithexasperation.“whatdoyouwanttoknow?”his

voiceisresignedashereleasesme.ibaulk—ididn’tmeanyouhadtolet

mego.takingmyhand,hereachesdowntopickupmye-mailfromthe

floor.

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eljames

“lotsofthings,”imutter,asilethimleadmetothecouch.

“sit,”heorders.somethingsneverchange,imuse,doingasi’mtold.

christiansitsbesideme,andleaningforward,putshisheadinhishands.

ohno.isthistoohardforhim?thenhesitsup,rakesbothhandsthroughhis

hair,andturnstome,atonceexpectantandreconciledtohisfate.

“askme,”hesayssimply.

oh.well,thatwaseasierthanithought.“whytheadditionalsecurityforyour

family?”

“hydewasathreattothem.”

“howdoyouknow?”

“fromhiscomputer.itheldpersonaldetailsaboutmeandtherestofmy

family.especiallycarrick.”

“carrick?whyhim?”

“idon’tknowyet.let’sgotobed.”

“christian,tellme!”

“tellyouwhat?”

“youareso...exasperating.”

“soareyou.”heglaresatme.

“youdidn’trampupthesecuritywhenyoufirstfoundouttherewas

informationaboutyourfamilyonthecomputer.sowhathappened?

whynow?”

christiannarrowshiseyesatme.

“ididn’tknowhewasgoingtoattempttoburndownmybuilding,or—”he

stops.“wethoughtitwasanunwelcomeobsession,butyouknow”—he

shrugs—“whenyou’reinthepubliceye,peopleareinterested.itwasrandom

stuff:newsreportsonmefromwheniwasatharvard—myrowing,my

career.reportsoncarrick—followinghiscareer,followingmymom’scareer

—andtosomeextent,elliotandmia.

howstrange.

“yousaidor,”iprompt.

“orwhat?”

“yousaid,‘attempttoburndownmybuilding,or...’likeyouweregoingto

saysomethingelse.”

“areyouhungry?”

221|page

fiftyshadesfreed

what?ifrownathim,andmystomachrumbles.

“didyoueattoday?”hisvoiceissternerandhiseyesfrost.i’mbetrayedby

myflush.

“asithought.”hisvoiceisclipped.“youknowhowifeelaboutyounoteating.

come,”hesays.hestandsandholdsouthishand.“letmefeedyou.”and

heshiftsagain...thistimehisvoicefullofsensualpromise.

“feedme?”iwhisperaseverythingsouthofmyna一velliquefies.hell.thisis

suchatypicallymercurialpersionfromwhatwe’vebeendiscussing.isthat

it?isthatalli’mgettingoutofhimfornow?

leadingmeovertothekitchen,christiangrabsabarstoolandheftsit

aroundtotheothersideoftheisland.

“sit,”hesays.

“where’smrs.jones?”iask,noticingherabsenceforthefirsttimeasiperch

onthestool.

“i’vegivenherandtaylorthenightoff.”

oh.

“why?”

hegazesatmeforabeat,andhisarrogantamusementisback.

“becauseican.”

“soyou’regoingtocook?”igivehimanincreduloussmirk.

“oh,yeoflittlefaith,mrs.grey.closeyoureyes.”

iblinkathim,marveling.ithoughtweweregoingtoha一veafull-onfight,and

hereweare,playinginthekitchen.

“closethem,”heorders.

irollthemfirst,thenoblige.

“hmm.notgoodenough,”hemutters.iopenoneeyeandseehimtakea

plum-coloredsilkscarfoutofthebackpocketofhisjeans.itmatchesmy

dress.holycow.ilookquizzicallyathim.whendidhegetthat?

“close,”heordersagain.“nopeeking.”

“you’regoingtoblindfoldme?”imutter,shocked.allofasuddeni’m

breathless.

“yes.”

“christian—”heplacesafingeruponmylips,silencingme.iwanttotalk.

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eljames

“we’lltalklater.iwantyoutoeatnow.yousaidyouwerehungry.”leaning

over,helightlykissesmylips.thesilkofthescarfissoftagainstmyeyelids

ashetiesitsecurelyatthebackofmyhead.

“canyousee?”heasks.

“no,”imutter,figurativelyrollingmyeyes.hechucklessoftly.

“icantellwhenyou’rerollingyoureyes,youknow...andyouknowhowthat

makesmefeel.”

ipursemylips.“canwejustgetthisoveranddonewith?”isnap.

“suchimpatience,mrs.grey.soeagertotalk.”histoneisplayful.

“yes!”

“imustfeedyoufirst,”hesaysandbrusheshislipsovermytemple,calming

meinstantly.

okay...ha一veityourway.iresignmyselftomyfateandlistentohis

movementsaroundthekitchen.thefridgedooropensandchristianplaces

variousdishesonthecountertopbehindme.hepadsovertothemicrowa一ve,

popssomethingin,andturnsiton.mycuriosityispiqued.ihearthetoaster

leverdrop,theturnofthecontrol,andthequiettickofthetimer.hmm—

toast?

“yes.iameagertotalk,”imurmur,distracted.anassortmentofexotic,spicy

aromasfillsthekitchen.whatishedoing?ishiftinmychair.

“bestill,anastasia,”hemurmurs,andhe’sclosetomeagain.“iwantyouto

beha一ve...,”hewhispers.

ohmy.myinnergoddessfreezes,notevenblinking.

“anddon’tbiteyourlip.”gentlyhetugsmybottomlipfreeofmyteeth,andi

can’thelpmysmile.

next,ihearthesoftpopofacorkbeingdrawnfromabottleandthegentle

glugofwinebeingpouredintoaglass.heleansacrossbehindmeandi

hearasoftclickandthequietwhitenoiseofthesurroundsoundspeakers

hissingtolife.aloudtwangofaguitarbeginsasongidon’tknow.christian

turnsthevolumedowntobackgroundlevel.amanstartstosing,hisvoice

deep,low,andsexy.

“adrinkfirst,ithink,”christianwhispers,pertingmefromthesong.“head

back.”itipmyheadback.“further,”heprompts.ioblige,andhislipsareon

mine.coolcrispwineflowsintomymouth.iswallowreflexively.ohmy,and

memoriesfloodbackofnotsolongago—metrusseduponmybedin

vancouverbeforei223|page

fiftyshadesfreed

graduated,withahot,angrychristiannotappreciatingmye-mail.hmm...

ha一vetimeschanged?notmuch.exceptnowirecognizethewine,

christian’sfa一vorite—asancerre.

“hmm,”imurmurinappreciation.

“youlikethewine?”hewhispershisbreathwarmonmycheek.i’mbathedin

hisproximity,hisvitality,theheatradiatingfromhisbody,eventhoughhe

doesn’ttouchme.

“yes,”ibreathe.

“more?”

“ialwayswantmore,withyou.”

ialmosthearhisgrin.itmakesmegrin,too.“mrs.grey,areyouflirtingwith

me?”

“yes.”

hisweddingringclinksagainsttheglassashetakesanothersipofwine.

nowthatisasexysound.thistimehepullsmyheadrightback,cradlingme.

hekissesmeoncemore,andgreedilyiswallowthewinehegivesme.he

smilesashekissesmeagain.

“hungry?”

“ithinkwe’vealreadyestablishedthat,mr.grey.”

thetroubadourontheipodissingingaboutwickedgames.hmm...how

apt.

themicrowa一vepings,andchristianreleasesme.isitupright.thefood

smellsspicy:garlic,mint,oregano,rosemary,andlamb,ithink.whatishe

cooking?thedoortothemicrowa一veopens,andtheappetizingsmellgrows

stronger.

“shit!christ!”christiancurses,andadishclattersontothecountertop.

ohno.

“youokay?”

“yes!”hesnaps,hisvoicetight.amomentlaterhe’sstandingbesideme

oncemore.

“ijustburntmyself.here.”heeaseshisindexfingerintomymouth.“maybe

youcouldsuckitbetter.”

“oh.”claspinghishand,idrawhisfingerslowlyfrommymouth.

“there,there,”isoothe,andleaningforwardiblow,coolinghisfinger,then

kissitgentlytwice.hestopsbreathing.ireinsertitintomymouthandsuck

gently.heinhalessharply,andthesoundtra一velsstraightto224|page

eljames

mygroin.hetastesasdeliciousasever,andirealizethatthisishisgame—

theslowseductionofhiswife.ithoughthewasmad,andnow...?thisman,

myhusband,issoconfusing.butrightnowthisishowilikehim.playful.fun.

sexyashell.he’sgivenmesomeanswers,buti’mgreedy.iwantmore,buti

wanttoplay,too.aftertheanxietyandtensionoftoday,andthenightmareof

lastnightwithjack,thisisawelcomepersion.

“whatareyouthinking?”christianmurmurs,stoppingmythoughtsintheir

tracksashepullshisfingeroutofmymouth.

“howmercurialyouare.”

hestillsbesideme.“fiftyshades,baby,”hesayseventually,andplantsa

tenderkissatthecornerofmymouth.

“myfiftyshades,”iwhisper.grabbinghist-shirt,ipullhimbacktome.

“ohnoyoudon’t,mrs.grey.notouching...notyet.”hetakesmyhand,

priesitoffhist-shirt,andkisseseachfingerinturn.

“situp,”hecommands.

ipout.

“iwillspankyouifyoupout.nowopenwide.”

ohshit.iopenmymouth,andhepopsinaforkfulofspicyhotlamb,covered

inacool,minty,yogurtsauce.mmm.ichew.

“youlike?”

“yes.”

hemakesanappreciativenoise,andiknowhe’seatingandenjoying,too.

“more?”

inod.hegivesmeanotherforkfulandichewitenthusiastically.heputsthe

forkdownandhetears...bread,ithink.

“open,”heorders.

thistimeit’spitabreadandhummus.irealizemrs.jones—ormaybeeven

christian—hasbeenshoppingatthedelicatessenidiscoveredaboutfive

weeksagoonlytwoblocksfromescala.ichewgratefully.christianina

playfulmoodincreasesmyappetite.

“more?”heasks.

inod.“moreofeverything.please.i’mstarving.”

ihearhisdelightedgrin.slowlyandpatientlyhefeedsme,occasionally

kissingamorseloffoodfromthecornerofmymouthor225|page

fiftyshadesfreed

wipingitoffwithhisfingers.intermittently,heoffersmeasipofwineinhis

uniqueway.

“openwide,thenbite,”hemurmurs.ifollowhiscommand.hmm—oneofmy

fa一vorites,stuffedvinelea一ves.evencoldtheyaredelicious,thoughiprefer

themheatedup,butidon’twanttoriskchristianburninghimselfagain.he

feedsittomeslowly,andwheni’vefinishedilickhisfingersclean.

“more?”heasks,hisvoicelowandhusky.

ishakemyhead.i’mfull.

“good,”hewhispersagainstmyear,”becauseit’stimeformyfa一vorite

course.you.”

what?hescoopsmeupinhisarms,surprisingmesomuchisqueal.

“canitaketheblindfoldoff?”

“no.”

ialmostpout,thenrememberhisthreatandthinkbetterofit.

“playroom,”hemurmurs.

oh—idon’tknowifthat’sagoodidea.

“youupforthechallenge?”heasks.andbecausehe’susedtheword

challenge,ican’tsayno.

“bringiton,”imurmur,desireandsomethingthatidon’twanttoname

thrummingthroughmybody.hecarriesmethroughthedoor,thenupthe

stairstothesecondfloor.

“ithinkyou’velostweight,”hemuttersdisapprovingly.iha一ve?

good.irememberhiscommentwhenwearrivedbackfromourhoneymoon,