nger around the base of his neck. I follow the
line of his finger with a scarlet streak. Finishing, I gaze into
the gray depths of his eyes.
“Now my back,” he murmurs. He shifts so I ha一ve to
climb off him, then he turns around on the bed and sits
cross-legged with his back to me.
“Follow the line from my chest, all the way round to
the other side.” His voice is low and husky.
I do as he says until a crimson line runs across the
middle of his back, and as I do, I count more scars
marring his beautiful body. Nine in all.
Holy fuck. I ha一ve to fight the overwhelming need to
kiss each one and stop the tears pooling in my eyes. What
kind of animal would do this? His head is down, and his
body tense as I complete the circuit round his back.
“Around your neck, too?” I whisper.
He nods, and I draw another line joining the first
around the base of his neck beneath his hair.
“Finished,” I murmur, and it looks like he’s wearing a
bizarre skin-colored vest with a harlot-red trim.
His shoulders slump as he relaxes, and he turns slowly
to face me once again.
“Those are the boundaries,” he says quietly, his eyes
dark and pupils dilated . . . from fear? From lust? I want to
hurl myself at him, but I restrain myself and gaze at him in
wonder.
“I can live with those. Right now I want to launch
myself at you,” I whisper.
He gives me a wicked smile and holds out his hands, a
gesture of supplication.
“Well, Miss Steele, I’m all yours.”
I squeal with childish delight and catapult myself into
his arms, knocking him flat. He twists, letting out a boyish
laugh filled with relief that the ordeal is over. Somehow, I
end up beneath him on the bed.
“Now, about that rain check,” he breathes and his
“Now, about that rain check,” he breathes and his
mouth claims mine once more.
My hands fist in his hair while my mouth is feverish against
Christian’s, consuming him, relishing the feel of his tongue
against mine. And he’s the same, devouring me. It’s
hea一venly.
Suddenly he drags me up and grasps th
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