Fifty Shades Freed (Christian & Ana)(52)

He tilts his head to one side and stares at me for a few moments. "Mrs. Grey, how very brazen," he whispers, after what feels like an eternity. His hand tightens around my hair at my nape, holding me firmly in place, and his mouth is on mine again, more forcefully this time. His other hand skims down my body, down over my behind and lower still to my mid-thigh. My fingers curl into his overlong hair.

"I'm so glad you're wearing a skirt," he murmurs as he slips his hand beneath my blue and white patterned skirt to caress my thigh. I squirm once more on his lap and the air hisses between his teeth.

"Keep still," he growls. He cups my sex with his hand, and I still immediately. His thumb brushes over my clitoris, and my breath catches in my throat as pleasure jolts like electricity deep, deep, deep inside me.

"Still," he whispers. He kisses me once more as his thumb circles gently around me through the sheer fine lace of my designer underwear. Slowly he eases two fingers passed my panties and inside me. I groan and flex my hips toward his hand.

"Please," I whisper.

"Oh, Mrs. Grey. You're so ready," he says, sliding his fingers in and out, tor-tuously slowly. "Do car chases turn you on?"

"You turn me on."

He smiles a wolfish grin and withdraws his fingers suddenly, leaving me wanting. He scoops his arm under my knees and, taking me by surprise, he lifts me and swings me around to face the windshield.

"Place your legs either side of mine," he orders, putting his legs together in the middle of the footwell. I do as I'm told, placing my feet on the floor on either side of his. He runs his hands down my thighs, then back, pulling up my skirt.

"Hands on my knees, baby. Lean forward. Lift that glorious ass in the air.

Mind your head."

Shit! We really are going to do this, in a public parking lot. I quickly scan the area in front of us and see no one, but feel a thrill coursing through me. I'm in a public lot! This is so hot! Christian shifts beneath me, and I hear the telltale sound of his zipper. Putting one arm around my waist and with his other hand tugging my lacy panties sideways, he impales me in one swift move.

"Ah!" I cry out, grinding down on him, and his breath hisses through his teeth. His arm snakes around me up to my neck and he grasps me under my chin.

His hand spreads across my neck, pulling me back and tilting my head to one side so he can kiss my throat. His other hand grips my hip and together we start to move.

I push up with my feet, and he tilts himself into me—in and out. The sensation is . . . I groan loudly. It's so deep this way. My left hand curls around the hand brake, my right hand braced against my door. His teeth graze my earlobe and he tugs—it's almost painful. He bucks again and again into me. I rise and fall, and as we establish a rhythm, he moves his hand around beneath my skirt to the apex of my thighs, and his fingers gently tease my clitoris through the sheer finery of my panties.

"Ah!"

"Be. Quick," he breathes into my ear through gritted teeth, his hand still curled around my neck beneath my chin. "We need to do this quick, Ana." And he increases the pressure of his fingers against my sex.

"Ah!" I feel the familiar build of pleasure, bunching deep and thick inside me.

"Come on, baby," he rasps at my ear. "I want to hear you."

I moan again, and I am all sensation, my eyes tightly closed. His voice at my ear, his breath on my neck, pleasure radiating out from where his fingers tease my body and where he slams deep inside me, and I am lost. My body takes control, craving release.

"Yes," Christian hisses in my ear and I open my eyes briefly, staring wildly at the cloth roof of the R8, and I scrunch them closed again as I come around him.