because you have reservations about our arrangement, that’s perfectly natural. You don’t

know what you’re getting yourself into.”

I frown, trying to process his words.

“Hey, stop this,” he commands softly, cupping my chin again and pulling at it gently so

I release my lower lip from my teeth. “There is nothing about you that is cheap, Anastasia.

I won’t have you thinking that. I just bought you some old books that I thought might mean

something to you, that’s all. Have some champagne.” His eyes warm and soften, and I

smile tentatively back up at him. “That’s better,” he murmurs. He picks up the champagne,

takes off the foil top and cage, twists the bottle rather than the cork, and opens it with a

small pop and a practiced flourish that doesn’t spill a drop. He half fills the cups.

“It’s pink,” I murmur, surprised.

“Bollinger Grande Année Rosé 1999, an excellent vintage,” he says with relish.

“In teacups.”

He grins.

“In teacups. Congratulations on your degree, Anastasia.” We clink cups, and he takes

a drink, but I can’t help thinking this is really about my capitulation.

“Thank you,” I murmur and take a sip. Of course it’s delicious. “Shall we go through

the soft limits?”

He smiles, and I blush.

“Always so eager.” Christian takes my hand and leads me to the couch where he sits

and tugs me down beside him.

“You’re stepfather’s a very taciturn man.”

Oh… not soft limits then. I just want to get this out of the way; the anxiety is gnawing

at me.

“You managed to have him eating out of your hand.” I pout.

Christian laughs softly.

“Only because I know how to fish.”

“How do you know he liked fishing?”

“You told me. When we went for coffee.”

“Oh… did I?” I take another sip. Wow he has a memory for detail. Hmm… this cham-

pagne really is very good. “Did you try the wine at the reception?”

Christian makes a face.

“Yes. It was foul.”

“I thought of you when I tasted it. How did you get to be so knowledgeable about

wine?”

“I’m not knowledgeable, Anastasia, I just know what I like.” His gray eyes shine,

almost silver, and it makes me flush. “Some more?” he asks, referring to the champagne.

“Please.”

Christian rises gracefully and collects the bottle. He fills my cup. Is he getting me

tipsy? I eye him suspiciously.

“This place looks pretty bare, are you ready for the move?”

“More or less.”

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yes, my last day at Clayton’s”

“I’d help you move, but I promised to meet my sister at the airport.”

Oh… this is news.

“Mia arrives from Paris very early Saturday morning. I’m heading back to Seattle

tomorrow, but I hear Elliot is giving you two a hand.”

“Yes, Kate is very excited about that.”

Christian frowns.

“Yes, Kate and Elliot, who would have thought?” he murmurs, and for some reason,

he doesn’t look pleased.

“So what are you doing about work in Seattle?”

When are we going to talk about the limits? What’s his game?

“I have a couple of interviews for intern places.”

“You were going tell me this when?” He arches a brow.

“Err… I’m telling you now.”

He narrows his eyes.

“Where?”

For some reason, possibly because he might use his influence, I don’t want to tell him.

“A couple of publishing houses.”

“Is that what you want to do, something in publishing?”

I nod warily.

“Well?” He looks at me patiently wanting more information.

“Well what?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Anastasia, which publishing houses?” he scolds.

“Just small ones,” I murmur.

“Why don’t you want me to know?”

“Undue influence.”

He frowns.

“Oh, now you’rebeing obtuse.”

He laughs.

“Obtuse? Me? God, you’re challenging. Drink up, let’s talk about these limits.” He

fishes out another copy of my email and the list. Does he wander about with these lists in

his pockets? I think there’s one in his jacket that I have. Shit, I’d better not forget that. I

drain my cup.

He glances quickly at me.

“More?”

“Please.”

He smiles that oh-so-smug-private smile of his, holds the champagne bottle up, and

pauses.

“Have you eaten anything?”

Oh no… not this old chestnut.

“Yes. I had a three course meal with Ray.” I roll my eyes at him. The champagne is

making me bold.

He leans forward and holds my chin, staring intently into my eyes.

“Next time you roll your eyes at me, I will take you across my knee.”

What?!

“Oh,” I breathe, and I can see the excitement in his eyes.

“Oh,” he responds, mirroring my tone. “So it begins, Anastasia.”

My heart slams against my chest, and the butterflies escape from my stomach into my

constricting throat. Why is that hot?

He fills my cup, and I drink practically all of it. Chastened, I stare up at him.

“Got your attention now, haven’t I?”

I nod.

“Answer me.”

“Yes… you’ve got my attention.”

“Good,” he smiles a knowing smile. “So sexual acts. We’ve done most of this.”

I move closer to him on the couch and glance down at the list.

APPENDIX 3

Soft Limits

To be discussed and agreed between both parties:

Which of the following sexual acts are acceptable to the Submissive?

• Masturbation

• Fellatio

• Cunnilingus

• Vaginal intercourse

• Vaginal fisting

• Anal intercourse

• Anal fisting

“No fisting, you say. Anything else you object to?” he asks softly.

I swallow.

“Anal intercourse doesn’t exactly float my boat.”

“I’ll agree to the fisting, but I’d really like to claim your ass, Anastasia. But we’ll wait

for that. Besides, it’s not something we can dive into,” he smirks at me. “Your ass will

need training.”

“Training?” I whisper.

“Oh yes. It’ll need careful preparation. Anal intercourse can be very pleasurable, trust

me. But if we try it and you don’t like it, we don’t have to do it again.” He grins down at

me. I blink up at him. He thinks I’ll enjoy it? How does he know it’s pleasurable?

“Have you done that?” I whisper.

“Yes.”

Holy crap.I gasp.

“With a man?”

“No. I’ve never had sex with a man. Not my scene.”

“Mrs. Robinson?”

“Yes.”

Holy shit… how?I frown. He moves on down the list.

“Okay… swallowing semen. Well, you get an A in that.”

I flush, and my inner goddess smacks her lips together glowing with pride.

“So.” He looks down at me grinning. “Swallowing semen okay?”

I nod, not able to look him in the eye, and drain my cup again.

“More?” he asks.

“More.” And I’m suddenly reminded of our conversation earlier today as he refills my

cup. Is he referring to that or just the champagne? Is this whole champagne thing more?

“Sex toys?” he asks.

I shrug, glancing down the list.

Is the use of sex toys acceptable to the Submissive?

• Vibrators

• Dildos

• Butt Plugs

• Other

“Butt plug? Does it do what it says on the tin?” I scrunch my nose up in distaste.

“Yes,” he smiles. “And I refer to anal intercourse above. Training.”

“Oh… what’s in other?”

“Beads, eggs… that sort of stuff.”

“Eggs?” I’m alarmed.

“Not real eggs,” he laughs loudly, shaking his head.

I purse my lips at him.

“I’m glad you find me funny.” I can’t keep my injured feelings out of my voice.

He stops laughing.

“I apologize. Miss Steele, I’m sorry,” he says, trying to look contrite, but his eyes are

still dancing with humor. “Any problem with toys?”

“No,” I snap.