corner, and she’s wearing harlot-red lipstick.
His burning eyes suddenly lock with mine. He’s remembered something.
“It’s Saturday,” he exclaims, eyes alight with salacious wonder, and he grasps my waist, pulling me to him and kissing me savagely.
His hands sweep down my slick, wet body, round to my sex, his fingers exploring, teasing, and his mouth is relentless, leaving me breathless. His other hand is in my wet hair, holding me in place while I bear the full force of his passion unleashed. His fingers move inside me.
“Ahh,” I moan into his mouth.
“Yes,” he hisses and lifts me, his hands beneath my backside. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.” My legs fold around him, and I cling like a limpet to his neck. He braces me against the wall of the shower and pauses, gazing down at me.
“Eyes open,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”
I blink up at him, my heart hammering, my blood pulsing hot and heavy through my body, desire, real and rampant surging through me. Then he eases into me oh-so-slowly, filling me, claiming me, skin against skin. I push down against him and groan loudly. Once fully inside me, he pauses once more, his face strained, intense.
“You are mine, Anastasia,” he whispers.
“Always.”
He smiles victoriously and shifts, making me gasp.
“And now we can let everyone know, because you said yes.” His voice is reverential, and he leans down, capturing my mouth with his, and starts to move… slow and sweet. I close my eyes and tilt my head back as my body bows, my will submitting to his, slave to his intoxicating slow rhythm.
His teeth graze my jaw, my chin, and down my neck as he picks up the pace, pushing me onward, upward- away from this earthly plane, the teeming shower, the evening’s chilling fright. It’s just me and my man moving in unison, moving as one-each completely absorbed in the other-our gasps and grunts mingling. I revel in the exquisite feeling of his possession as my body blooms and flowers around him.
He reaches his climax and pours himself into me. With his face buried in my neck, he sinks to the floor, holding me tightly, kissing my face, and kissing away my tears as the warm water spills down around us, washing us clean.
“My fingers are pruny,” I murmur, postcoital and sated as I lean against his chest. He raises my fingers to his lips and kisses each in turn.
“We should really get out of this shower.”
“I’m comfortable here.” I’m sitting between his legs and he’s holding me close. I don’t want to move.
Christian murmurs his assent. But suddenly I’m bone tired, world-weary. So much has happened this last week-enough for a lifetime of drama-and now I’m gettingmarried. A disbelieving giggle escapes my lips.
“Something amusing you, Miss Steele?” he asks fondly.
“It’s been a busy week.”
He grins. “That it has.”
“I thank God you’re back in one piece, Mr. Grey,” I whisper, sobering at the thought of what might have been. He tenses and I immediately regret reminding him.
“I was scared,” he confesses much to my surprise.
“Earlier?”
He nods, his expression serious.
“Yes. I was too low to land well. But somehow I did.”
Crap. My eyes sweep up to his, and he looks grave as the water cascades over us. “How close a call was it?” He gazes down at me.
“Close,” he pauses. “For a few awful seconds, I thought I’d never see you again.”
I hug him tightly. “I can’t imagine my life without you, Christian. I love you so much it frightens me.”
“Me, too,” he breathes. “My life would be empty without you. I love you so much.” His arms tighten around me and he nuzzles my hair. “I won’t ever let you go.”
“I don’t want to go, ever.” I kiss his neck, and he leans down and kisses me gently.
After a moment, he shifts. “Come-let’s get you dry and into bed. I’m exhausted and you look beat.”
I lean back and arch an eyebrow at his choice of words. He cocks his head to one side and smirks at me.
“You have something to say, Miss Steele?”
I shake my head and clamber unsteadily to my feet.
I am sitting up in bed. Christian insisted on drying my hair-he’s quite skilled at it. How that happened is an unpleasant thought, so I dismiss it immediately. It’s after two in the morning, and I am ready to sleep. Christian gazes down at me and reexamines the keychain before climbing into bed. He shakes his head, incredulous once more.
“This is so neat. The best birthday present I’ve ever had.” He glances at me, his eyes soft and warm. “Better than my signed Guiseppe DeNatale poster.”
“I would have told you earlier, but as it was your birthday… What do you give the man who has everything? I thought I’d give you… me.”
He puts the keychain down on the bedside table and snuggles in beside me, pulling me into his arms against his chest so that we’re spooning.
“It’s perfect. Like you.”
I smirk, though he can’t see my expression. “I am far from perfect, Christian.”
“Are you smirking at me, Miss Steele?”
How does he know? “Maybe.” I giggle. “Can I ask you something?
“Of course,” he nuzzles my neck.
“You didn’t call on your trip back from Portland. Was that really because of Jose? You were worried about me being here alone with him?”
Christian says nothing. I turn to face him, and his eyes are wide as I reproach him.
“Do you know how ridiculous that is? How much stress you put your family and me through? We all love you very much.”
He blinks a couple of times and then gives me his shy smile. “I had no idea you’d all be so worried.”
I purse my lips. “When are you going to get it through your thick skull that you areloved?”
“Thick skull?” His eyebrows widen in surprise.
I nod. “Yes. Thick skull.”
“I don’t think the bone density of my head is significantly higher than anywhere else in my body.”
“I’m serious! Stop trying to make me laugh. I am still a little mad at you, though that’s partially eclipsed by the fact that you’re home safe and sound when I thought…” My voice fades as I recall those anxious few hours. “Well, you know what I thought.”
His eyes soften and he reaches up to caress my face. “I’m sorry. Okay.”
“Your poor mom, too. It was very moving, seeing you with her,” I whisper.
He smiles shyly. “I’ve never seen her that way.” He blinks at the memory. “Yes, that was really something. She’s normally so self-possessed. It was quite a shock.”
“See? Everyone loves you.” I smile. “Perhaps now you’ll start believing it.” I lean down and kiss him gently.
“Happy birthday, Christian. I’m glad you’re here to share your day with me. And you haven’t seen what I’ve got for you tomorrow um… today.” I smirk.
“There’s more?” he says, astounded, and his face erupts into a breathtaking grin.
“Oh yes, Mr. Grey, but you’ll have to wait until then.”
I wake suddenly from a dream or nightmare, and my pulse is thumping. I turn, panicked, and to my relief,
