Book 1 - Page 95 (2/2)

”Did you expect it to?” he whispers as he holds me close, his fingers pus.h.i.+ng some escaped tendrils of hair off my face.

”Yes.”

”You see most of your fear is in your head, Anastasia,” he pauses. ”Would you do it again?”

I think for a moment as fatigue clouds my brain ... Again?

”Yes.” My voice is so soft.

He hugs me tightly.

”Good. So would I,” he murmurs, then leans down and softly kisses the top of my head.”And I haven't finished with you yet.”

Not finished with me yet. Holy Moses. There's no way I can do any more. I am utterly spent and fighting an overwhelming desire to sleep. I'm leaning against his chest, my eyes are closed, and he's wrapped around me - arms and legs - and I feel... safe, and oh so comfortable. Will he let me sleep, perchance to dreamMy mouth quirks up at the silly thought, and turning my face into Christian's chest, I inhale his unique scent and nuzzle him, but immediately he tenses... oh c.r.a.p. I open my eyes and glance up at him. He's staring down at me.

”Don't,” he breathes in warning.

I flush and look back at his chest in longing. I want to run my tongue through the hair, kiss him, and for the first time, I notice he has a few random and faint small, round scars dotted around his chest. Chicken poxMeasles I think absently.

”Kneel by the door,” he orders as he sits back, putting his hands on his knees, effectively releasing me. No longer warm, the temperature of his voice has dropped several degrees.

I stumble clumsily up into a standing position and scoot over to the door and kneel as instructed. I'm shaky and very, very tired, monumentally confused. Who would have thought I could have found such gratification in this room. Who could have thought it would be so exhausting My limbs are deliciously heavy, sated. My inner G.o.ddess has a

'do not disturb' sign on the outside of her room.

Christian is moving about in the periphery of my vision. My eyes start to droop.

”Boring you, am I, Miss Steele?”

I jump awake, and Christian is standing in front of me, his arms crossed glaring down at me. Oh s.h.i.+t, caught napping - this is not going to be good. His eyes soften as I gaze up at him.

”Stand up,” he orders.

I climb warily to my feet. He stares at me, and his mouths quirks up.

”You're shattered, aren't you?”

I nod shyly, flus.h.i.+ng.

”Stamina, Miss Steele.” He narrows his eyes at me. ”I haven't had my fill of you yet.

Hold out your hands in front as if you're praying.”

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