“Goodbye, Christian," I murmur."Ana, goodbye," he says softly, and he looks utterly, utterly broken,a man in agonizing pain, reflecting how I feel inside. I tear my gaze away from him before I can change my mind and try to comfort him.The elevator doors close close and it whisks me down to the bowels of the basement and to my own personal hell.”

“Thank you, baby," he breathes, covering my upturned face in soft feather-light kisses. I open my eyes and gaze up at him, and he wraps his arms tighter around me."Your cheek is pink from the baize," he murmurs, rubbing my face tenderly. "How was that?" His eyes are wide and cautious."Teeth-clenchingly good," I mutter. "I like it rough, Christian, and I like it gentle, too. I like that it's with you."He closes his eyes and hugs me even tighter.”

“I want you, Anastasia,” he murmurs. “I love and I hate, and I love arguing with you. It’s very new. I need to know that we’re okay. It’s the only way I know how.” “My feelings for you haven’t changed,” I whisper. His proximity is overwhelming, exhilarating. The familiar pull is there, all my synapses goading me toward him, my inner goddess at her most libidinous. Staring at the patch of hair in the V of his shirt, I bite my lip, helpless, driven by desire—I want to taste him there. He’s so close, but he doesn’t touch me. His heat is warming my skin. “I’m not going to touch you until you say yes,” he says softly. “But right now, after a really shitty morning, I want to bury myself in you and just forget everything but us.”

“I love you,” I murmur, and he smiles his heart-achingly shy smile, and I melt. “I will always love you, Christian.”“And I you,” he says softly.“In spite of my disobedience?” I raise my eyebrow.“Because of your disobedience, Anastasia.” He grins.”

“I thought I'd broken you.""Broken? Me? Oh no, Ana. Just the opposite."He reaches out and takes my hand. "You're my lifeline'" he whispers.”

“Hungry?" Christian murmurs so only I can hear. I know he's not referring to the food, and the muscles deep in my belly respond."Very," I whisper, boldly meeting his gaze, and Christian's lips apart as he inhales.Ha! See... two can play at this game.”

“No. No!” he says.“I . . .” He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I don’t know.“You can’t go. Ana, I love you!”“I love you, too, Christian, it’s just—”“No . . . no!” he says in desperation and puts both hands on his head. “Christian . . .”“No,” he breathes, his eyes wide with panic, and suddenly he drops to his knees in front of me, head bowed, long-fingered hands spread out on his thighs. He takes a deep breath and doesn’t move. What? “Christian, what are you doing?”He continues to stare down, not looking at me. “Christian! What are you doing?”My voice is high-pitched. He doesn’t move. “Christian, look at me!” I command in panic. His head sweeps up without hesitation, and he regards me passively with his cool gray gaze—he’s almost serene . . . expectant.Holy Fuck . . . Christian. The submissive.”