“You love strapping me in, don’t you?” “In any form,” he says, a wicked grin playing on his lips. “You are a pervert.” “I know.” He raises his eyebrows and his grin broadens. “My pervert,” I whisper. “Yes, yours.”

“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.”

“Hi," he says. I manage to grunt in response, and his smile broadens. "Rude enough for you?"I nod and give him a reluctant grin. Jeez, any ruder and I'd have to spank the pair of us.”

“Let me love you," he says hoarsely."Yes," I answer, and turning, he hauls me into his arms, his lips seeking mine, beseeching me, worshipping me, cherishing me...loving me.”

“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.”

“You love me,” I whisper.His eyes widen further and his mouth opens. He takes a huge breath as if winded. He looks tortured—vulnerable.“Yes,” he whispers. “I do.”

“See, that wasn't so bad!" I grin as we tread water.Eventually he smirks at me, obviously relieved. "No, I guess it wasn't. Except I'm wet," he grumbles, but his tone is playful.'I'm wet, too.""I like you wet." He leers.”