He stops.

“If you struggle, I’ll tie your feet too. If you make a noise, Anastasia, I will gag you.

Keep quiet. Katherine is probably outside listening right now.”

Gag me! Kate!I shut up.

He removes my shoes and my socks efficiently and slowly peels off my sweat pants.

Oh – what panties am I wearing?He lifts me and pulls the quilt and my duvet out from

underneath me and places me back down, this time on the sheets.

“Now then.” He licks his bottom lip slowly. “You’re biting that lip, Anastasia. You

know the effect it has on me.” He places his long index finger over my mouth, a warning.

Oh my.I can barely contain myself, lying helpless, watching him move gracefully

around my room, it’s a heady aphrodisiac. Slowly, almost leisurely, he removes his shoes

and socks, undoes his pants, and lifts his shirt off over his head.

“I think you’ve seen too much,” he chuckles slyly. He sits astride me again, pulls my

t-shirt up, and I think he’s going to take it off me, but he rolls it up to my neck and then

pulls it up over my head so he can see my mouth and my nose, but it covers my eyes. And

because it’s folded over – I cannot see a thing through it.

“Mmm,” he breathes appreciatively. “This just gets better and better. I’m going to get

a drink.”

Leaning down, he kisses me, his lips tender against mine, and his weight shifts off the

bed. I hear the quiet creak of the bedroom door. Get a drink. Where? Here? Portland?

Seattle?I strain to hear him. I can make out low rumblings, and I know he’s talking to

Kate – oh no… he’s practically naked.What’s she going to say? I hear a faint popping

sound. What’s that? He returns, the door creaking once more, his feet padding across the

bedroom floor, and ice tinkling against glass as it swirls in liquid. What kind of drink? He

shuts the door and shuffles around removing his pants. They drop to the floor, and I know

he’s naked. He sits astride me again.

“Are you thirsty, Anastasia?” he asks, his voice teasing

“Yes,” I breathe, because my mouth is suddenly parched. I hear the ice clink against

the glass, and he puts it down again and leans down and kisses me, pouring a delicious

crisp, liquid into my mouth as he does. It’s white wine. It’s so unexpected, hot, though it’s

chilled, and Christian’s lips are cool.

“More?” he whispers.

I nod. It tastes all the more divine because it’s been in hismouth. He leans down, and

I drink another mouthful from his lips… oh my.

“Let’s not go too far, we know your capacity for alcohol is limited, Anastasia.”

I can’t help it. I grin, and he leans down to deliver another delicious mouthful. He

shifts so he’s lying beside me, his erection at my hip. Oh, I want him inside me.

“Is this nice?” he asks, but I hear the edge in his voice.

I tense. He moves the glass again and leans down, kissing me and depositing a small

shard of ice in my mouth with a little wine. He slowly and leisurely trails chilled kisses

down the center of my body, from the base of my throat, between my breasts, down my

torso, and to my belly. He pops a fragment of ice in my navel in a pool of cool, cold wine.

It burns all the way down to the depths of my belly. Wow.

“Now you have to keep still,” he whispers. “If you move, Anastasia, you’ll get wine

all over the bed.”

My hips flex automatically.

“Oh no. If you spill the wine, I will punish you, Miss Steele.”

I groan and desperately fight the urge to tilt my hips, pulling on my restraint. Oh no…

please.

With one finger, he pulls down my bra cups in turn, my breasts pushed up, exposed and

vulnerable. Leaning down, he kisses and tugs at each of my nipples in turn with cool, cold

lips. I fight my body as it tries to arch in response.

“How niceis this?” he breathes, blowing on one of my nipples.

I hear another clink of ice, and then I can feel it round my right nipple as he tugs the left

one with his lips. I moan, struggling not to move. It’s sweet, agonizing torture.

“If you spill the wine, I won’t let you come,”

“Oh… please… Christian… Sir… Please.” He’s driving me insane. I hearhim smile.

The ice in my navel is melting. I am beyond warm – warm and chilled and wanting.

Wanting him, inside me. Now.

His cool fingers trail languidly across my belly. My skin is oversensitive, my hips flex

automatically, and the now warmer liquid from my navel seeps over my belly. Christian

moves quickly, lapping it up with his tongue, kissing, biting me softly, sucking.

“Oh dear, Anastasia, you moved. What am I going to do to you?”

I’m panting loudly. All I can concentrate on is his voice and his touch. Nothing else

is real. Nothing else matters, nothing else registers on my radar. His fingers slip into my

panties, and I’m rewarded with his unguarded sharp intake of air.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs and he pushes two fingers inside me.

I gasp.

“Ready for me so soon,” he says. He moves his fingers tantalizingly slowly, in, out,

and I push against him, tilting my hips up.

“You are a greedy girl,” he scolds softly, and his thumb circles my clitoris and then

presses down.

I groan loudly as my body bucks beneath his expert fingers. He reaches up and pushes

the t-shirt over my head so I can see him as I blink in the soft light of my sidelight. I long

to touch him.

“I want to touch you,” I breathe.

“I know,” he murmurs. He leans down and kisses me, his fingers still moving rhythmi-

cally inside me, his thumb circling and pressing. His other hand scoops my hair off my

head and holds my head in place. His tongue mirrors the actions of his fingers, claim-

ing me. My legs begin to stiffen as I push against his hand. He gentles his hand, so I’m

brought back from the brink. He does this again and again. It’s so frustrating… Oh please

Christian,I scream in my head.

“This is your punishment, so close and yet so far. Is this nice?” he breathes in my ear.

I whimper, exhausted, pulling against my restraint. I’m helpless, lost in an erotic torment.

“Please,” I beg, and he finally takes pity on me.

“How shall I fuck you, Anastasia?”

Oh… my body starts to quiver. He stills again.

“Please.”

“What do you want, Anastasia?”

“You… now,” I cry.

“Shall I fuck you this way, or this way, or this way? There’s an endless choice,” he

breathes against my lips. He withdraws his hand and reaches over to the bedside table for a

foil packet. He kneels up between my legs, and very slowly he pulls my panties off, staring

down at me, his eyes gleaming. He puts on the condom. I watch fascinated, mesmerized.

“How niceis this?” he says as he strokes himself.

“I meant it as a joke,” I whimper. Please fuck me, Christian.

He raises his eyebrows as his hand moves up and down his impressive length.

“A joke?” His voice is menacingly soft.

“Yes. Please, Christian,” I beseech him.

“Are you laughing now?”

“No,” I mewl.

I am just one ball of sexual, tense, need. He stares down at me for a moment, measur-

ing my need, then he grabs me suddenly and flips me over. It takes me by surprise, and

because my hands are tied, I have to support myself on my elbows. He pushes both my

knees up the bed so my behind is in the air, and he slaps me hard. Before I can react, he

plunges inside me. I cry out – from the slap and from his sudden assault, and I come in-

stantly again and again, falling apart beneath him as he continues to slam deliciously into