marames

“I will lay my world at your feet, Anastasia."

"Let me fall into your gravity And kiss me back to life to see your body standing over me"

“Oh, Ana,” “I need you so much.”  “And I you, Christian.”

“Mighty fine, Miss Steele,” he whispers. I nearly convulse on the spot. “I can’t believe you just did that,” I murmur, and I’m practically coming apart at the seams. “You’d be surprised what I can do, Miss Steele,” he says. Reaching out, he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, a slight smile betraying his amusement.

“I never thought I had a future with anyone, Anastasia. You give me hope and have me thinking about all sorts of possibilities.”

“You are such a tight-assed, cock-blocking, prick tease, you know, Ana,” he whispers through clenched teeth. What? Prick tease... Me? “Jack, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I whisper, as I feel the adrenaline surge through my body. He’s closer now. I am waiting to make my move. Ray will be proud. Ray taught me what to do. Ray knows his self-defense. If Jack touches me—if he even breathes too close to me—I will take him down. My breath is shallow. I must not faint, I must not faint. “Look at you.” He gives me a leering look. “You’re so turned on, I can tell. You’ve really led me on. Deep down you want it. I know.” Holy fuck. The man is completely delusional. My fear rises to defcon one, threatening to overwhelm me. “No, Jack. I have never led you on.”

“What do you have that I don’t?” she asks, her voice assuming the singsong intonation of a child. “What do you mean, Leila?” I ask as gently as I can.

From his inside jacket pocket he produces a ring and gazes up at me, his eyes bright gray and raw, full of emotion. “Anastasia Steele. I love you. I want to love, cherish, and protect you for the rest of my life. Be mine. Always. Share my life with me. Marry me.” I blink down at him as my tears fall. My Fifty, my man. I love him so, and all I can say as the tidal wave of emotion hits me is, “Yes.”

“You never fail, Ana. You are beautiful, bright, challenging, fun, sexy, and I thank divine providence every day that it was you that came to interview me and not Katherine Kavanagh.”

“Lose yourself... take me with you,” I murmur breathlessly.

“I know what you’re doing,” he whispers, his eyes dark. I tilt my head coquettishly to one side, gently fondling my cue, running my hand up and down it slowly. “Oh. I am just deciding where to take my next shot,” I murmur distractedly.

Christian smiles a wicked grin as he leans over the table and makes short work of the two remaining solids. I am practically panting, watching him, his lithe body stretching over the table. He stands and chalks his cue, his eyes burning into me. “If I win...” Oh yes? “I am going to spank you, then fuck you over this billiard table.” Holy shit. Every single muscle south of my navel clenches hard.

I wake, with a start. Today, I win her back.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Anastasia. I want you back, and I want you healthy,” he says softly. What? What does that mean? “But nothing’s changed.” You’re still fifty shades.

Right on cue the door bursts open, and Christian is standing in the doorway, Taylor behind him. Glancing at me briefly, Christian’s eyes sweep over me from head to toe, and I notice the small spark of relief in his look. But his relief is fleeting as his gaze darts to Leila and stills, focusing on her, not wavering in the slightest. He glares at her with an intensity I have not seen before, his eyes wild, wide, angry, and scared. Oh no ... oh no.

“I want to see you,” he breathes and dexterously undoes the button. Bending, he plants a soft kiss on my parted lips. I am panting and eager, aroused by the potent combination of his captivating beauty, his raw sexuality in the confines of this cabin, and the gentle sway of the boat. He stands back. “Strip for me,” he whispers, eyes burning.

“I thought we’d go sailing this afternoon. This is my boat.” Holy cow. It must be at least forty, maybe fifty feet. Two sleek white hulls, a deck, a roomy cabin, and towering over them a very tall mast. I know nothing about boats, but I can tell this one is special. “Wow...,” I murmur in wonder. “Built by my company,” he says proudly and my heart swells. “She’s been designed from the ground up by the very best naval architects in the world and constructed here in Seattle at my yard. She has hybrid electric drives, asymmetric dagger boards, a squaretopped mainsail—” “Okay... you’ve lost me, Christian.” He grins. “She’s a great boat.” “She looks mighty fine, Mr. Grey.” “That she does, Miss Steele.” “What’s her name?” He pulls me to the side so I can see her name: The Grace. I’m surprised.