"Oh, Ana," he murmurs. He looks pained all of a sudden.
"What?"
"Not here."
"What do you mean?"
"I want you in my bed, not in here. Come." He grabs the bar and my hand, then leads me promptly out of the room.
Why are we leaving? I glance behind me as we exit. "Why not in there?"
Christian stops on the stairs and gazes up at me, his expression grave.
"Ana, you may be ready to go back in there, but I'm not. Last time we were in there, you left me. I keep telling you - when will you understand?" He frowns, releasing me so that he can gesticulate with his free hand.
"My whole attitude has changed as a result. My whole outlook on life has radically shifted. I've told you this. What I haven't told you is - " He stops and runs his hand through his hair, searching for the correct words. "I'm like a recovering alcoholic, okay? That's the only comparison I can draw. The compulsion has gone, but I don't want to put temptation in my way. I don't want to hurt you."
He looks so remorseful, and in that moment, a sharp nagging pain lances through me.
What have I done to this man? Have I improved his life? He was happy before he met me, wasn't he?
"I can't bear to hurt you because I love you," he adds, gazing up at me, his expression one of absolute sincerity like a small boy telling a very simple truth.
He's completely guileless, and he takes my breath away. I adore him more than anything or anyone. I do love this man unconditionally.
I launch myself at him so hard that he has to drop what he's carrying to catch me as I push him up against the wall. Grabbing his face between my hands, I pull his lips to mine. I can taste his surprise as I push my tongue into his mouth. I am standing on the step above him - we're at the same level, and I feel euphorically empowered. Kissing him passionately, my fingers twisting into his hair, I want to touch him, everywhere, but restrain myself, knowing his fear. Regardless, my desire unfurls, hot and heavy, blossoming deep inside me. He groans and grabs my shoulders, pushing me away.
"Do you want me to f**k you on the stairs?" he mutters, his breathing ragged. "Because right now, I will."
"Yes," I murmur and I'm sure my dark gaze matches his.
He glares at me, his eyes hooded and heavy. "No. I want you in my bed." He scoops me up suddenly over his shoulder, making me squeal, loudly, and smacks me hard on my behind, so that I squeal again. As he heads down the stairs, he stoops to pick up the fallen spreader bar.
Mrs. Jones is coming out of the utility room when we pass through the hall. She smiles at us, and I give her an apologetic upside-down wave. I don't think Christian notices her.
In the bedroom, he sets me down on my feet and drops the spreader on to the bed.
"I don't think you'll hurt me," I breathe.
"I don't think I'll hurt you, either," he says. He takes my head in his hands and kisses me, long and hard, igniting my already heated blood.
"I want you so much," he whispers against my mouth, panting. "Are you sure about this - after today?'
"Yes. I want you, too. I want to undress you." I can't wait to get my hands on him - my fingers are itching to touch him.
His eyes widen and for a moment, he hesitates, perhaps to consider my request.
"Okay," he says cautiously.
I reach for the second button on his shirt and hear him catch his breath.
"I won't touch you if you don't want me to," I whisper.
"No," he responds quickly. "Do. It's fine. I'm good," he mutters.
I gently undo the button and my fingers glide down his shirt to the next. His eyes are large and luminous, his lips parted as his breathing shallows. He is so beautiful, even in his fear... because of his fear. I undo the third button and notice his soft hair poking through the large V of the shirt.
"I want to kiss you there," I murmur.
He inhales sharply. "Kiss me?"
"Yes," I murmur.
His gasps as I undo the next button and very slowly lean forward, making my intention clear. He's holding his breath, but stands stock-still as I plant a gentle kiss among the soft, exposed curls. I undo the final button and lift my face to him. He's gazing at me, and there's a look of satisfaction, calm, and... wonder on his face.
"It's getting easier, isn't it?" I whisper.
He nods as I slowly push his shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
"What have you done to me, Ana?" he murmurs. "Whatever it is, don't stop." And he gathers me in his arms, fisting both his hands in my hair and pulling my head right back so that he can have easy access to my throat.
He runs his lips up to my jaw, nipping softly. I groan. Oh, I want this man. My fingers fumble at his waistband, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper.
"Oh, baby," he breathes as he kisses me behind my ear. I feel his erection, firm and hard, straining against me. I want him - in my mouth. I step back abruptly and drop to my knees.
"Whoa?" he gasps.
I tug his pants and boxers sharply, and he springs free. Before he can stop me, I take him into my mouth, sucking hard, enjoying his shocked astonishment as his mouth drops open. He gazes down at me, watching my every move, eyes so dark and filled with carnal bliss. Oh my. I sheath my teeth and suck harder. He closes his eyes and surrenders to this blissful carnal pleasure is so arousing. I know what I do to him, and it's hedonistic, liberating, and sexy as hell. The feeling is heady, I'm not just powerful - I'm omniscient.
"Fuck," he hisses and gently cradles my head, flexing his hips so he moves deeper inside my mouth. Oh yes, I want this and I swirl my tongue around him, pulling hard...