Fifty Shades Trilogy 03 - Fifty Shades Freed

He’s wearing black jeans and a white shirt, but with a black jacket. He looks divine. He stalks slowly toward me, but as soon as he reaches me, he puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me around to face the full-length mirror, while he stands behind me. My gaze finds his in the glass, then he glances down, fascinated by my naked back. His finger glides down my spine and reaches the edge of my dress at the small of my back, where pale flesh meets silver cloth.
    “This is very revealing,” he murmurs.
    His hand skims lower, over my backside and down to my naked thigh. He pauses, gray eyes burning intently into blue. Then slowly he trails his fingers back up to the hem of my skirt.
    Watching his long fingers move lightly, teasingly across my skin, feeling the tingles they leave in their wake, my mouth forms a perfect O .
    “It’s not far from here.” He touches the hem, then moves his fingers higher. “To here,” he whispers. I gasp as his fingers stroke my sex, moving tantalizingly over my panties, feeling me, teasing me.
    “And your point is?” I whisper.
    “My point is . . . it’s not far from here”—his fingers glide over my panties, then one is inside, against my soft dampened flesh—“to here. And then . . . to here.” He slips a finger inside me.
    I gasp and make a soft mewling sound.
    “This is mine,” he murmurs in my ear. Closing his eyes, he moves his finger slowly in and out of me. “I don’t want anyone else to see this.”
    My breath stutters, my panting matching the rhythm of his finger. Watching him in the mirror, doing this . . . it’s beyond erotic.
    “So be a good girl and don’t bend down, and you should be fine.”
    “You approve?” I whisper.
    “No, but I’m not going to stop you wearing it. You look stunning, Anastasia.” Abruptly he withdraws his finger, leaving me wanting more, and he moves around to face me. He places the tip of his invading finger on my lower lip. Instinctively, I pucker my lips and kiss it, and I’m rewarded with a wicked grin. He puts his finger in his mouth and his expression informs me that I taste good . . . real good. I flush. Will it always shock me when he does that?
    He grasps my hand.
    “Come,” he orders softly. I want to retort that I was about to, but in light of what happened in the playroom yesterday, I decide against it.
    We are waiting for dessert in a plush, exclusive restaurant in town. It’s been a lively evening so far, and Mia is determined it should continue and that we must go clubbing. Right now she’s sitting silently for once, hanging on Ethan’s every word as he and Christian talk. Mia is obviously infatuated with Ethan, and Ethan is . . . well it’s difficult to tell. I don’t know if they are just friends or if there’s something more.
    Christian seems at ease. He’s been talking animatedly with Ethan. They obviously bonded over the fly-fishing. They’re talking about psychology, mainly. Ironically, Christian sounds the more knowledgeable. I snort softly as I half listen to their conversation, sadly acknowledging that his expertise is the result of his experience with so many shrinks.
    You’re the best therapy. His words, whispered while we were making love once, echo in my head. Am I? Oh, Christian, I hope so.
    I glance over at Kate. She looks beautiful, but then she always does. She and Elliot are less lively. He seems nervous, his jokes a little too loud, and his laugh a little off. Have they had a fight? What’s eating him? Is it that woman? My heart sinks at the thought that he might hurt my best friend. I glance at the entrance, half expecting to see Gia calmly saunter her well-groomed ass across the restaurant to us. My mind is playing tricks, I suspect it’s the amount of alcohol I’ve had. My head is beginning to ache.
    Abruptly, Elliot startles us all by standing and pulling his chair back so it scrapes across the tile floor. All eyes turn to him. He gazes down at Kate for one moment then drops to one knee beside her.
    Oh. My. God.
    He reaches for her hand, and silence settles like a blanket over the entire restaurant as everyone stops eating, stops talking, stops walking, and stares.
    “My beautiful Kate, I love you. Your grace, your beauty, and your fiery spirit have no equal, and you have captured my heart. Spend your life with me. Marry me.”
    Holy shit!

The attention of the entire restaurant is trained on Kate and Elliot, waiting with bated breath as one. The