“You are one challenging woman, Ana Steele.” He kisses me passionately, forcing my

lips apart with his tongue, taking no prisoners.

My blood heats immediately, and I’m returning his kiss with my own passion. I want

him badly – in spite of the car, the books, the soft limits… the caning… I want him.

“It’s taking all my self-control not to fuck you on the hood of this car right now, just to

show you that you are mine, and if I want to buy you a fucking car, I’ll buy you a fucking

car,” he growls. “Now let’s get you inside and naked.” He plants a swift rough kiss on me.

Boy, he’s angry. He grabs my hand and leads me back into the apartment and straight

into my bedroom… no passing go. My subconscious is behind the sofa again, head hidden

under her hands. He switches on the sidelight and halts, staring at me.

“Please don’t be angry with me,” I whisper.

His gaze is impassive; his gray eyes cold shards of smoky glass.

“I’m sorry about the car and the books,” I trail off. He remains silent and brooding.

“You scare me when you’re angry,” I breathe, staring at him.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them, his expression has soft-

ened fractionally. He takes a deep breath and swallows.

“Turn round,” he whispers. “I want to get you out of that dress.”

Another mercurial mood swing, it’s so hard to keep up. Obediently, I turn and my heart

is thumping, desire instantly replacing unease, coursing through my blood and settling dark

and yearning low, low in my belly. He scoops my hair off my back so it hangs down my

right side, curling at my breast. He places his index finger at the nape of my neck and ach-

ingly slowly drags it down my spine. His well-manicured fingernail gently grazes down

my back.

“I like this dress,” he murmurs. “I like to see your flawless skin.”

His finger reaches the back of my halter dress midway down my spine, and hooking his

finger beneath the top, he pulls me closer so that I step back against him. I feel him flush

against my body. Leaning down, he inhales my hair.

“You smell so good, Anastasia. So sweet.” His nose skims past my ear down my neck,

and he trails soft, feather light kisses along my shoulder.

My breathing changes, becoming shallow, rushed, full of expectation. His fingers are

at my zipper. Achingly slow, once more he eases it down while his lips move, licking and

kissing and sucking their way across to my other shoulder. He is so tantalizingly good at

this. My body resonates, and I start to squirm languidly beneath his touch.

“You. Are. Going. To. Have. To. Learn. To. Keep. Still,” he whispers, kissing me

around my nape between each word.

He tugs at the fastening at the halter neck, and the dress drops and pools at my feet.

“No bra, Miss Steele. I like that.”

His hands reach round and cup my breasts, and my nipples pucker at his touch.

“Lift your arms and put them around my head,” he murmurs against my neck.

I obey immediately, and my breasts rise and push into his hands, my nipples hardening

further. My fingers weave into his hair, and very gently I tug his soft, sexy hair. I roll my

head to one side to give him easier access to my neck.

“Mmm… ” he murmurs into that space behind my ear, as he starts to extend my nipples

with his long fingers, mirroring my hands in his hair.

I groan as the sensation registers sharp and clear in my groin.

“Shall I make you come this way?” he whispers.

I arch my back to force my breasts into his expert hands.

“You like this, don’t you, Miss Steele?”

“Mmm… ”

“Tell me.” He continues the slow sensuous torture, pulling gently.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what.”

“Yes… Sir.”

“Good girl.” He pinches me hard, and my body writhes convulsively against his front.

I gasp at the exquisite, acute, pleasure/pain. I feel him against me. I moan and my

hands clench in his hair pulling harder.

“I don’t think you’re ready to come yet,” he whispers, stilling his hands, and he gently

bites my earlobe and tugs at it. “Besides, you have displeased me.”

Oh… no, what will this mean?My brain registers through the fog of needy desire as

I groan.

“So perhaps I won’t let you come after all.” He returns the attention of his fingers to my

nipples, pulling, twisting, kneading. I grind my behind against him… moving side to side.

I feel his grin against my neck as his hands move down to my hips. His fingers hook

into my panties at the back, stretching them, and he pushes his thumbs through the mate-

rial, shredding them and tossing them in front of me so I can see … holy shit.His hands

move down to my sex… and from behind, he slowly inserts his finger.

“Oh, yes. My sweet girl is all ready,” he breathes as he whirls me round so I’m facing

him. His breathing has quickened. He puts his finger in his mouth. “You taste so fine, Miss

Steele.” He sighs. “Undress me,” he commands quietly, staring down at me, eyes hooded.

All I’m wearing is my shoes, well, Kate’s high-heeled pumps. I’m taken aback. I’ve

never undressed a man.

“You can do it,” he cajoles softly.

Oh my.I blink rapidly. Where to start? I reach for his t-shirt, and he grabs my hands

and shakes his head, smiling slyly at me.

“Oh no.” He shakes his head, grinning. “Not the t-shirt, you may need to touch me for

what I have planned.” His eyes are alive with excitement.

Oh… this is news… I can touch with clothes.He takes one of my hands and places it

against his erection.

“This is the effect you have on me, Miss Steele.”

I gasp and flex my fingers around his girth, and he grins.

“I want to be inside you. Take my jeans off. You’re in charge.”

Holy fuck… me in charge.My mouth drops open.

“What are you going to do with me?” he teases.

Oh the possibilities… my inner goddess roars, and from somewhere born of frustra-

tion, need, and sheer Steele bravery, I push him on to the bed. He laughs as he falls, and

I gaze down at him feeling victorious. My inner goddess is going to explode. I yank off

his shoes, quickly, clumsily, and his socks. He’s staring up at me, his eyes luminous with

amusement and desire. He looks… glorious… mine.I crawl up the bed and sit astride

him to undo his jeans, sliding my fingers under the waistband, feeling the hair in his oh so

happy trail. He closes his eyes and flexes his hips.

“You’ll have to learn to keep still,” I scold, and I tug at the hair under his waistband.

His breath hitches, and he grins at me.

“Yes, Miss Steele,” he murmurs, eyes burning bright. “In my pocket, condom,” he

breathes.

I search in his pocket slowly, watching his face as I feel around. His mouth is open. I

fish out both foil packets that I find and lay them on the bed by his hips. Two!My over-

eager fingers reach for the button of his waistband and undo it, fumbling a little. I am

beyond excited.

“So eager, Miss Steele,” he murmurs, his voice laced with humor. I tug down the zip-

per, and now I’m faced with the problem of removing his pants… hmm.I shuffle down and

pull. They hardly move. I frown. How can this be so difficult?

“I can’t keep still if you’re going to bite that lip,” he warns, then arches his pelvis up

off the bed so I’m able to tug down his trousers and his boxers at the same time, whoa…

freeing him. He kicks his clothes to the floor.

Holy Moses, he’s all mine to play with, and suddenly it’s Christmas.

“Now what are you going to do?” he breathes, all trace of humor gone. I reach up and