“Good!” I move so that I’m covering her. “Watching me for how long?” I run my nose down hers and press my lips to hers.

“Oh, no.” She pushes at my shoulders and my stab of disappointment is real, but she rolls me onto my back and straddles my hips. Sitting up, she sweeps her T-shirt off in one swift move, and throws it to the floor. “I was thinking about giving you a wake-up call.”

“Oh?” My cock and I rejoice.

Before I can steel myself against her touch, she leans down and places a soft kiss on my chest, her hair tumbling around us both, creating a chestnut haven. Bright blue eyes peek at me.

“Starting here.” She kisses me again.

I inhale sharply.

“Then moving down to here.” She runs her tongue in a wayward line down my sternum.

Yes.

The darkness stays quiet, subdued by the goddess on top of me or by my bursting libido. I don’t know which.

“You taste mighty fine, Mr. Grey,” she breathes against my skin.

“I’m glad to hear it.” The words are hoarse in my throat.

She licks and nips me along the base of my rib cage as her breasts graze over my lower belly.

Ah!

Once, twice, three times.

“Ana!” I clutch her knees as my breathing accelerates, and squeeze. But she squirms on top of my groin, so I let go, and she rises up, leaving me waiting and wanting. I think she’s going to take me. She’s ready.

I’m ready.

Fuck, I’m so ready.

But she moves down my body, kissing my stomach and my belly, her tongue slipping into my navel, then grazing through my happy trail. She nips me once more and I feel the bite right through my cock.

“Ah!”

“There you are,” she whispers and she stares greedily at my eager dick and then peeps up at me with a coquettish grin. Slowly, her eyes on mine, she takes me in her mouth.

Sweet Jesus.

Her head bobs up and down, her teeth sheathed behind her lips, as she pulls me farther into her mouth each time. My fingers find her hair and sweep it out of the way so I can enjoy an uninterrupted view of my future wife with her lips around my cock. I tighten my buttocks, pushing up my hips, seeking more depth, and she takes it, clamping her mouth around me.

Harder.

Harder still.

Ah. Ana. You fucking goddess.

She picks up the rhythm. And, closing my eyes, I fist my hand in her hair.

She is so good at this.

“Yes,” I hiss through my teeth and I lose myself in the rise and fall of her exquisite mouth. I’m going to come.

All of a sudden, she stops.

Damn. No! I open my eyes and watch her move above me, then sink oh-so-slowly onto my bursting dick. I groan, relishing every precious inch. Her hair tumbles to her naked breasts and, reaching up, I caress each one, running my thumbs across her hardening nipples, over and over and over.

She lets out a lengthy moan, thrusting her tits into my hands.

Oh, baby.

Then she pitches forward, kissing me, her tongue invading my mouth, and I taste and savor my saltiness in her sweet mouth.

Ana.

I move my hands to her hips and ease her up off me and then pull her down, thrusting up at the same time.

She cries out, grabbing on to my wrists.

And I do it again.

And again.

“Christian,” she calls to the ceiling in a quiet plea as she matches my tempo and we move together. In time. As one. Until she falls apart on top of me, taking me with her and triggering my own release.

I nuzzle her hair and thrum my fingers down her back.

She takes my breath away.

This is still new. Ana in charge. Ana initiating. I like it.

“Now that’s my idea of Sunday worship,” I whisper.

“Christian!” She whips her head to mine, eyes round with disapproval.

I laugh out loud.

Will this ever get old? Shocking Miss Steele?

I hug her hard and roll us both over so she’s beneath me.

“Good morning, Miss Steele. It’s always a treat to wake up to you.”

She strokes my cheek. “And you, Mr. Grey.” Her tone is soft. “Do we have to get up? I like being here in your room.”

“No.” I glance at my watch on the nightstand. It’s 9:15. “My parents will be at Mass.” I shift to her side.

“I didn’t know they were churchgoers.”

I grimace. “Yes. They are. Catholic.”

“Are you?”

“No, Anastasia.”

God and I went our separate ways a long time ago.

“Are you?” I ask, recalling that Welch could find no religious affiliations during her background check.

She shakes her head. “No. Neither of my parents practice a faith. But I would like to go to church today. I need to thank…someone for bringing you back alive from the helicopter accident.”

I sigh, visualizing a bolt of lightning burning me to a cinder if I step onto the hallowed grounds of a church, but for her, I’ll go.

“Okay. I’ll see what we can do.” I kiss her quickly. “Come, shower with me.”

There’s a small leather duffel outside my bedroom door—Taylor has delivered clean clothes. I scoop up the bag and shut the door. Ana is wrapped in a towel, beads of water glistening on her shoulders. Her attention is focused on my bulletin board, paused at the photograph of the crack whore. She turns her head toward me, a question on her beautiful face…a question I don’t want to answer. “You still have it,” she says.