Last week’s chapter was the most appalling thing I’d ever read. Christian called Ana an ‘asset’ and bullied her into changing her name, so that everyone would know she is ‘his’. Right at the end Ms Gia Matteo – the architect for their new home that Ana doesn’t want renovated – showed up.

Read Chapter Seven.

50 Shades Freed
Chapter Eight

Gia Matteo is a good looking woman.

Of course she is; there are no unattractive people in this world.

She is one of those women who grew up with money and breeding.

I bloody HATE the word ‘breeding’. It panders to the bullshit idea that you can ‘breed’ ‘pedigree’ people. In other words, eugenics.

“You both look so well after your honeymoon,” she says smoothly, her brown eyes gazing at Christian through long mascaraed lashes.

Obligatory woman-finds-Christian-attractive moment. At least she seems able to speak, though. Must be all that breeding.

I’m gripped by the uncanny feeling that Christian and I are putting on a show, playing a game together, pitted against Ms Matteo.

I guarantee that she couldn’t give the smallest shit.

Mine. Yeah, bitch – mine.

For fuck’s sake, you’re as bad as each other.

She briefly touches his arm in a small, flirty gesture. Christian stiffens. Leave him the fuck alone, lady.

It is possible to love someone without hating everybody else.

Ana voices her opinion that the house is beautiful and, just because they have money, doesn’t mean they should fill an old mansion with glass freaking walls. Ms Matteo comes up with some new ideas that Ana likes. It’s almost like this is a professional business meeting and not a fucking couple’s performance.

He doesn’t like that idea but he doesn’t overrule me, shoot me down, or make me feel stupid.

This time.

He wants me to be happy – happy in everything I do.

Provided your name is Ana Grey.

He’s telling Miss Provocative-and-Unfortunately-Good-at-Her-Job just who’s in charge.

Why is it UNFORTUNATE that she’s good at her job? Surely that’s what you want?

Christian leaves.

“You’re right to be nervous, Gia. But I’m sure we’ll be fine as long as you keep your hands off my husband.”
She gasps.

Quite rightly. You just dropped a ton of psycho paranoia on her.

They get back to talking business, but Ms Matteo is clearly shaken. If I were her I would tell Ana where to shove it.

“What did Taylor want?” I ask Christian.
“It was about Hyde. It turns out he has not been in his apartment for weeks.”

Probably shacked up with Leila, planning revenge. Gia Matteo might join them now.

“Did you say something to her?” he asks.
“I may have said something,” I mumble.
“She’s only reacting to this face.”

Yes, she’s only a silly woman who can’t help herself.

“Ana, she’s a sexual predator. Not my type at all.”

And Mrs Robinson … wasn’t a sexual predator?

They get onto more serious matters, ie: the name.

“I don’t want to get railroaded because the girl you fell in love with will be crushed. You’ve got to let me make my own decisions, take my own risks, and make my own mistakes. I want some independence. That’s what my name means to me.”

Oh my God, she’s said it at last.

“I just want to give you the world, Ana. And save you from it, too. Keep you safe. But I also want everyone to know you’re mine.”

No, no, no, will you LISTEN to her?

I flush. He has a point.

NO HE DOESN’T I CAN’T BELIEVE WE’RE DOING THIS AGAIN.

She asks if he would change his name for her and he said he would. So now she’s like, “Oh cool, I’m OK with it then.” Even after the speech she’s still changing her bloody name.

“I need you to cut my hair. Apparently it’s overlong and my wife doesn’t like it.”

Samson and Delilah parallels will not redeem this one-sided relationship.

Even if he is an overbearing, megalomaniac arse, he’s my overbearing, megalomaniac arse.

And yet, he is still an overbearing, megalomaniac arse.

I turn to the sink that Christian normally uses and fill it with warm water.
“For rinsing,” I say when his look turns quizzical.

Oh yeh! Never thought of that!

His hands move to my hips and around to my behind.
“No fondling the help,” I murmur.

Keep telling yourself you’re not a snob, Ana.

After she washes his hair, he says it’s time to fuck, so she doesn’t even get to cut it. And I thought Biblical undertones were imminent. I should have known better.

His hand moves from my stocking tops up to my panties.
“Let’s divest you of these.”

Here we go again!

“Mrs Grey,” he warns. “Are you goading me?”
“Yes. What are you going to do about it?”

Ana plays a game of Let’s Pretend I Have A Spine.

Suddenly, he thrusts his thumb into my mouth.
“Suck,” he orders.
What else would I like to suck?

Ooh, let me guess! Um, um, his elbows?

He starts playing with her nipples and tells her he’d like her to come, just from nipple play. As if it’s something you can decide to do.  

“You have such beautiful breasts, Ana.” He groans. “One day I’ll fuck them.”
What the hell does that mean?

Use your imagination.

“Let go,” he breathes – and I do, loudly.

So apparently you CAN just decide to do that.

He moves both hands so that he fully cups my head and slowly eases himself in and out of my mouth. I twirl my tongue around his tip and push down again in perfect counterpoint to him.

‘Perfect’, if you do say so yourself.

After all our arguing today, we still have this. We will always have this.

And only this, because heaven knows nothing else fucking works.

He climaxes with a mournful sob.

Yikes!

This is where I want to be, and in spite of his control freakery, his megalomania, this is where I belong.

Thus reads the textbook entry on emotional abuse.

Ana goes to find scissors to resume the haircut (evidently they were not sufficiently prepared before), and sees Taylor (security man) kissing Mrs Jones (housekeeper). I am surprised, because I too didn’t think poor people had emotions.

Oh, I have to get my head around this. I open the top drawer and am immediately distracted when I find a gun. Christian has a gun!

EL James, please learn about pacing. Don’t make NOTHING happen for CHAPTERS and CHAPTERS and then make two big things happen in the space of one paragraph.

What does Christian want with a gun?

Yeh, weird. It’s not like anyone’s tried to kill him recently.

She runs back to tell Christian about Taylor and Mrs Jones. He knows, obviously.

“Ana, they’re adults. They live under the same roof. Both unattached. Both attractive.”

But with Ana and Christian running around, how could they POSSIBLY be attracted to anyone else?

“I was thinking we could convert the rooms over the garages for them at the new place,” Christian continues.

Christian is a generous god.

The haircut happens, at last.

He looks as hot as ever, his hair still floppy and sexy … just a bit shorter.

That’ll happen when you cut someone’s hair.

“I should clean up in here.”
“Okay, I’ll get the broom,” says Christian.
“Do you know where the broom is?”
“Um … no.”
I laugh. “I’ll go.”

Because heaven forbid you should learn that sort of thing!

They go to bed and she says she doesn’t want to run a company. He tells her she’s capable, thus completely missing the point that she wouldn’t have earned it off her own back.

“Don’t just dismiss the idea, Ana.”

Like you’re dismissing her concerns?

“Think about it. That’s all I ask.”

She has. She doesn’t want to do it.

They change the subject. Ana asks about tying him up in bed, but he says it’s too scary.

“Christian, I got the wrong idea. Please don’t worry about it.”
And soon we’re lost … lost in each other again.

That’s quite enough orgasms for one day, thank you very much.

- gildius -

Read Chapter Nine.

Why not let me know what you think? You can buy the book here, or the entire trilogy, if you’re a glutton for punishment. Ironically.