self with the thought that at least I have somewhere to escape from him.

Examining the door, I find that it has a lock but no key. I wonder briefly if Mrs. Jones

has a spare. I’ll ask her. I open the closet door and close it again quickly. Holy Crap – he’s

spent a fortune.It resembles Kate’s – so many clothes hanging neatly on the rail. Deep

down, I know that they’ll all fit. But I have no time to think about that – I have to get kneel-

ing in the Red Room of… Pain… or Pleasure – hopefully this evening.

Kneeling by the door, I am naked except for my panties. My heart is in my mouth. Jeez,

I thought after the bathroom he would have had enough. The man is insatiable, or maybe

all men are like him. I have no idea, no one to compare him too. Closing my eyes, I try to

calm myself down, to connect with my inner sub. She’s there somewhere, hiding behind

my inner goddess.

Anticipation runs bubbling like soda through my veins. What will he do? I take a deep

steadying breath, but I cannot deny it, I’m excited, aroused, wet already. This is so… I

want to think wrong,but somehow it’s not. It’s right for Christian. It’s what he wants – and after the last few days… after all he’s done, I have to man up and take whatever he decides

he wants, whatever he thinks he needs.

The memory of his look when I came in this evening, the longing in his face, his deter-

mined stride toward me like I was an oasis in the desert. I’d do almost anything to see that

look again. I press my thighs together at the delicious memory, and it reminds me that I

need to spread my knees. I shuffle them apart. How long will he make me wait? The wait

is crippling me, crippling me with a dark and tantalizing desire. I glance quickly around

the subtly lit room; the cross, the table, the couch, the bench… that bed. It looms so large,

and it’s made up with red satin sheets. Which piece of apparatus will he use?

The door opens and Christian breezes in, ignoring me completely. I glance down

quickly, staring at my hands, positioned with care on my spread thighs. Placing something

on the large chest beside the door, he strolls casually toward the bed. I indulge myself in a

quick glimpse at him, and my heart almost lurches to a stop. He’s naked except for those

soft ripped jeans, top button casually undone. Jeez, he looks so freaking hot.My sub-

conscious is frantically fanning herself, and my inner goddess is swaying and writhing to

some primal carnal rhythm. She’s so ready. I lick my lips instinctively. My blood pounds

through my body, thick and heavy with salacious hunger. What is he going to do to me?

Turning, he nonchalantly walks back to the chest of drawers. Opening one, he begins

to remove items and place them on the top. My curiosity burns, blazes even, but I resist

the overwhelming temptation to sneak a quick peek. When he finishes what he’s doing,

he comes to stand in front of me. I can see his naked feet, and I want to kiss every inch of

them… run my tongue over his instep, suck each of his toes. Holy shit.

“You look lovely,” he breathes.

I keep my head down, conscious that he’s staring at me while I am practically naked. I

feel the flush as it slowly spreads over my face. He bends down and cups my chin, forcing

my face up to meet his gaze.

“You are one beautiful woman, Anastasia. And you’re all mine,” he murmurs. “Stand

up.” His command is soft full of sensual promise.

Shakily, I get to my feet.

“Look at me,” he breathes, and I stare up into his smoldering gray gaze. It is his Dom

gaze – cold, hard, and sexy as hell, seven shades of sin in one enticing look. My mouth

dries, and I know I will do anything he asks. An almost cruel smile plays across his lips.

“We don’t have a signed contract, Anastasia. But we’ve discussed limits. And I want

to re-iterate we have safe words, okay?”

Holy fuck… what has he got planned that I need safe words?

“What are they?” he asks authoritatively.

I frown slightly at his question, and his face hardens perceptibly.

“What are the safe words, Anastasia?” he says slowly and deliberately.

“Yellow,” I mumble.

“And?” he prompts, his mouth setting in a hard line.

“Red,” I breathe.

“Remember those.”

And I can’t help it… I raise my eyebrow at him and am about to remind him of my

GPA, but the sudden frosty glint in his icy gray eyes stops me in my tracks.

“Don’t start with your smart mouth in here, Miss Steele. Or I will fuck it with you on

your knees. Do you understand?”

I swallow instinctively. Okay.I blink rapidly, chastened. Actually, it’s his tone of

voice, rather than the threat, that intimidates me.

“Well?”

“Yes, Sir,” I mumble hastily.

“Good girl,” he pauses as he stares at me. “My intention is not that you should safe-

word because you’re in pain. What I intend to do to you will be intense. Very intense, and

you have to guide me. Do you understand?”

Not really. Intense? Wow.

“This is about touch, Anastasia. You will not be able to see me or hear me. But you’ll

be able to feel me.”

I frown – not hear him?How is that going to work? He turns, and I hadn’t noticed

that above the chest is a sleek, flat, matt-black box. As he waves his hand in front, the box

splits in half: two doors slide open revealing a CD player and a host of buttons. Christian

presses several of these buttons in sequence. Nothing happens, but he seems satisfied. I

am mystified. When he turns to face me again, he wears his small I-have-a-secret smile.

“I am going to tie you to that bed, Anastasia. But I’m going to blindfold you first and,”

he reveals his iPod in his hand, “you will not be able to hear me. All you will hear is the

music I am going to play for you.”

Okay. A musical interlude, not what I was expecting. Does he ever do what I expect?

Jeez, I hope it’s not rap.

“Come.” Taking my hand, he leads me over to the antique four-poster bed. There are

shackles attached at each corner, fine metal chains with leather cuffs, glinting against the

red satin.

Oh boy, I think my heart is going to leave my chest, and I’m melting from the inside

out, desire coursing through me. Could I be any more excited?

“Stand here.”

I am facing the bed. He leans down and whispers in my ear.

“Wait here, keep your eyes on the bed. Picture yourself lying here bound and totally

at my mercy.”

Oh my.

He moves away for a moment, and I can hear him near the door fetching something.

All my senses are hyper alert, my hearing more acute. He’s picked up something from the

rack of whips and paddles by the door. Holy cow. What is he going to do?

I feel him behind me. He takes my hair, pulls it into a ponytail behind me, and starts

to braid it.

“While I like your pigtails, Anastasia, I am too impatient to be at you right now. So one

will have to do.” His voice is low, soft.

His deft fingers skim my back occasionally as they work down my hair, and each ca-

sual touch is like a sweet, electric shock against my skin. He fastens the end with a hair tie,

then gently tugs the braid so that I’m forced to step back flush against him. He pulls again

to the side so that I angle my head, giving him easier access to my neck. Leaning down,

he nuzzles my neck. Tracing his teeth and tongue from the base of my ear to my shoulder.

He hums softly as he does, and the sound resonates through me. Right down... right down

there,inside me. Unbidden, I groan quietly.