“Yes,” I breathe.
“For my birthday?”
“Yes.” Could my voice sound any smaller?
A myriad of emotions cross his face, none of which I
can place, but he settles for anxious. Hmm . . . Not quite
the reaction I was expecting.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
“Not the whips and stuff.”
“I understand that.”
“Yes, then. I’m sure.”
He shakes his head and gazes down at the contents of
the box. “Sex mad and insatiable. Well, I think we can do
something with this lot,” he murmurs almost to himself, then
puts the contents back in the box. When he glances at me
again, his expression has completely changed. Holy cow,
his gray eyes burn, and his mouth lifts in a slow erotic
smile. He holds out his hand.
“Now,” he says, and it’s not a request. My belly
clenches, tight and hard, deep, deep down.
I put my hand in his.
“Come,” he orders, and I follow him out of the
bedroom, my heart in my mouth. Desire races slick and
hot through my blood as my insides tighten with hungry
anticipation. My inner goddess somersaults round her
anticipation. My inner goddess somersaults round her
chaise longue. Finally!
Christian pauses outside the playroom.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks, his gaze heated yet
anxious.
“Yes,” I murmur, smiling shyly at him.
His eyes soften. “Anything you don’t want to do?”
I’m derailed by his unexpected question, and my mind
goes into overdrive. One thought occurs. “I don’t want
you to take photos of me.”
He stills, and his expression hardens as he cocks his
head to one side and eyes me speculatively.
Oh shit. I think he’s going to ask me why, but
fortunately he doesn’t.
“Okay,” he murmurs. His brow furrows as he unlocks
the door, then stands aside to usher me into the room. I
feel his eyes on me as he follows me inside and closes the
door.
Placing the gift box on the chest of drawers, he takes
out the iPod, switches it on, then wa一ves at the music center
on the wall so that the smoked glass doors glide silently
on the wall so that the smoked glass doors glide silently
open. He pr
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