Fifty Shades Darker(138)

His grin broadens. "Hmm. You can interrupt me like that anytime." He kisses me again.

"How about you? Did you sleep well?"

"I always sleep well with you, Anastasia."

"No more nightmares?"

"No."

I frown and chance a question. "What are your nightmares about?"

His brow creases and his grin fades. Shit - my stupid curiosity.

"They're flashbacks of my early childhood, or so Dr. Flynn says. Some vivid, some less so." His voice drops and a distant, harrowed look crosses his face. Absentmindedly, he begins to trace my collarbone with his finger, distracting me.

"Do you wake up crying and screaming?" I try in vain to joke.

He looks at me, puzzled. "No, Anastasia. I've never cried. As far as I can remember."

He frowns, as if reaching into the depths of his memories. Oh no - that's too dark a place to go at this hour, surely.

"Do you have any happy memories of your childhood?" I ask quickly, mainly to distract him. He looks pensive for a moment, still running his finger along my skin.

"I recall the crack whore baking. I remember the smell. A birthday cake I think. For me. And then there's Mia's arrival with my mom and dad. My mom was worried about my reaction, but I adored baby Mia immediately. My first word was Mia. I remember my first piano lesson. Miss Kathie, my tutor, was awesome. She kept horses, too." He smiles wistfully.

"You said your mom saved you. How?"

His reverie is broken, and he gazes at me as if I don't understand the elementary math of two plus two.

"She adopted me," he says simply. "I thought she was an angel when I first met her. She was dressed in white and so gentle and calm as she examined me. I'll never forget that. If she'd said no or if Carrick had said no..." He shrugs and glances over his shoulder at the alarm clock. "This is all a little deep for so early in the morning," he mutters.

"I have made a vow to get to know you better."

"Did you now, Miss Steele? I thought you wanted to know if I preferred coffee or tea."

He smirks. "Anyway, I can think of one way you can get to know me." He pushes his hips suggestively against me.

"I think I know you quite well enough that way." My voice is haughty and scolding, and it makes him smile more broadly.

"I don't think I'll ever get to know you well enough that way," he murmurs. "There are definite advantages to waking up beside you." His voice is soft and bone-meltingly seductive.

"Don't you have to get up?" My voice is low and husky. Jeez, what he does to me...

"Not this morning. Only one place I want to be up right now, Miss Steele." And his eyes sparkle salaciously.

"Christian!" I gasp, shocked. He shifts suddenly so that he's on top of me, pressing me into the bed. Grabbing my hands, he pulls them up above my head and begins to kiss my throat.

"Oh, Miss Steele." He smiles against my skin, sending delicious tingles through me, as his hand travels down my body and starts to slowly hitch up my satin nightdress. "Oh, what I'd like to do to you," he murmurs.

And I am lost, interrogation over.

Mrs. Jones sets down my breakfast of pancakes and bacon, and for Christian an omelet and bacon. We sit side by side at the bar in a comfortable silence.

"When am I going to meet your trainer, Claude, and put him through his paces?" I ask.

Christian glances down at me, grinning.

"Depends if you want to go to New York this weekend or not - unless you'd like to see him early one morning this week. I'll ask Andrea to check on his schedule and come back to you."