Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told (Page 119)

Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian(119)
Author: E.L. James

“Great. No sign of Leila?” Dumb question: Gail would have called me.

“No, sir. This also arrived.” She holds up a small red store bag.

“Good.” I take the bag from her, ignoring the delighted twinkle in her eye.

“How many for supper this evening?”

“Two, thanks. And Gail—”

“Sir?”

“Can you put the satin sheets on the playroom bed?”

I really hope to get Ana in there at some point over the weekend. “Yes, Mr. Grey,” she says, her tone a little surprised. She turns back to whatever she’s conjuring in the kitchen, leaving me a little baffled by her behavior.

Maybe Gail doesn’t approve, but it’s what I want from Ana.

In my study I take the Cartier box from its bag. It’s a present for Ana, which I’ll give to her tomorrow in time for the gala: a pair of earrings. Simple. Elegant. Beautiful. Just like her. I smile; even in her chucks and jeans she has a certain gamine charm.

I hope she accepts my gift. As my submissive, she’d have no choice, but under our alternative arrangement, I don’t know what her reaction will be. Whatever the outcome, it will be interesting. She always surprises me. As I put the box in my desk drawer a ping on my computer distracts me. Barney’s latest tablet designs are in my inbox, and I’m eager to see them.

Five minutes later, Welch calls.

“Mr. Grey,” he wheezes.

“Yes. What news?”

“I spoke with Russell Reed, Mrs. Reed’s husband.”

“And?” Immediately I’m agitated. I storm out of my study and across the living room to the windows.

“He says his wife is away visiting her parents,” Welch reports.

“What?”

“Precisely.” Welch sounds as pissed as I am.

Seeing Seattle at my feet, knowing Mrs. Reed aka Leila Williams is out there somewhere, increases my irritation. I rake my fingers through my hair.

“Maybe that’s what she told him.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But we’ve found nothing so far.”

“No trace?” I can’t believe she could just disappear.

“Nothing. But if she so much as uses an ATM, cashes a check, or logs in to her social media, we’ll find her.”

“Okay.”

“We’d like to scour the CCTV footage from around the hospital. It’s going to cost money and take a little longer. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes.” A tingle prickles my scalp—not from the call. For some unknown reason I sense I’m being watched. Turning, I see Ana standing on the threshold of the room, scrutinizing me, her brow furrowed and her lips pensive, and she’s wearing a short, short skirt. She’s all eyes and legs…especially legs. I imagine them wrapped around my waist.

Desire, raw and real, fires my blood as I stare.

“We’ll get right on it,” Welch says.

I finish up with him, my eyes fixed on Ana’s, and I prowl toward her, stripping off my jacket and tie and tossing them onto the sofa.

Ana.

I wrap my arms around her, tugging at her ponytail, lifting her eager lips to mine. She tastes of heaven and home and fall and Ana. Her scent invades my nostrils as I take everything her warm, sweet mouth has to offer. My body hardens with expectation and hunger as our tongues entwine. I want to lose myself in her, to forget about the shitty end to my week, forget about everything but her.

My lips feverish against hers, I tug the hair tie from her ponytail as her fingers knot in mine. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by my need, desperate for her. And I pull away, staring down into a face that’s dazed with passion.

I feel the same way. What is she doing to me?

“What’s wrong?” she whispers.

And the answer is clear, ringing in my head.

I’ve missed you.

“I’m so glad you’re back. Shower with me. Now.”

“Yes,” she responds, her voice hoarse. I take her hand and we head to my bathroom. I turn on the shower, then face her. She’s gorgeous, her eyes bright and gleaming with anticipation, as she watches me. My gaze rakes down her body to her naked legs. I’ve never seen her in such a short skirt, with so much of her flesh on display, and I’m not sure I approve. She’s for my eyes only.

“I like your skirt. It’s very short.” Too short. “You have great legs.” Stepping out of my shoes, I take off my socks, and without breaking eye contact, she, too, slips off her shoes.

Fuck the shower. I want her now.

Stepping toward her, I clasp her head, and we step back so she’s against the tiled wall, her lips parting as she inhales. Holding her face and lacing my fingers into her hair, I kiss her: her cheek, her throat, her mouth. She’s nectar and I can’t get enough. Her breath catches in her throat and she grasps my arms, but at her touch there’s no protest from the darkness within. There’s just Ana, in all her beauty and innocence, kissing me back with a fervor that matches mine.

My blood is thick with desire, my erection painful. “I want you now. Here…fast, hard,” I murmur, as my hand runs up her naked thigh beneath her skirt. “Are you still bleeding?”

“No.”

“Good.” I push her skirt up over her hips, hook both thumbs into her cotton panties and drop to the floor, kneeling, slipping the panties down her legs.

She gasps when I grab her hips and kiss the sweet junction beneath her pubic hair. Moving my hands to the backs of her thighs, I part her legs, exposing her clitoris to my tongue. When I start my sensual assault her fingers dive into my hair. My tongue torments her, and she moans and tips her head back against the wall.

She smells exquisite. She tastes better.

As she purrs she tilts her pelvis toward my invading, insistent tongue, and her legs begin to tremble.

Enough. I want to come inside her.

It will be my skin against her skin again, like in Savannah. Releasing her, I stand and grasp her face, capturing her surprised and disappointed mouth with mine, kissing her hard. I unzip my fly and lift her, clutching her under her thighs. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.” My voice is rough and urgent. As soon as she does, I thrust forward, sliding into her.

She’s mine. She’s heaven.

Clinging to me, she whimpers as I plunge into her—slowly at first, then building as my body takes control, driving me forward, driving me into her, faster and faster, harder and harder, my face at her throat. She moans and I feel her quicken around me, and I’m lost, in her, in us, as she climaxes, crying out her release. The feel of her pulsing around me tips me over the edge and I come deep and hard inside her, growling out a garbled version of her name.