CHAPTER 2 : THE CHAPTER IN WHICH THEY SMOOCH

"Speaking of mutual consent," I whisper, "Why don't we pick up where we left off?"

"Are you sure you're up for that? You're still recovering."

I scoff at him, "I'm not some fragile flower you need to protect, Christian. I can take care of myself, don't you worry. So let's do this."

"I'd love to, it's just - just…", he says, gesturing to the stark, shark-free room with a defeated look in his eyes, his back slumped, his complexion sallow, his eyes dull, his words whispered, his manhood pitifully floppy.

I grab him by his shirt and pull him on top of me. I look him straight in the eyes and in my gruffest voice whisper, "You're gonna need a bigger boat." His pants tighten as he goes stiff instantly and he grabs a handful of my hair.

"What was that?"

"You're. Gonna. Need. A. Bigger. Boat."

Christian obviously can't help himself any more. He presses his face to mine and kisses me, hard. He bites my lower lip and pulls away before I can respond. It hurts a little, but it's only just not painful. I moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. He takes full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth, like a shark deftly navigating a reef. I have never been kissed like this.

The passion in that first kiss carried us for some time, our tongues darting, sharing each others' breathe for so long that we surfaced for great gasping pants before continuing anew. The passion – the power – so clearly evident in these kisses was setting me aflame. My body was craving Christian. I wanted him – needed him, so when his fervor started to die I inwardly lamented the fact that I only knew one line from Jaws.

Christian pulls back and sits on the edge of the bed, looking back at me.

"I hope you don't have any other plans for the evening, Ana."

"Why? Does this mean you're going to make love to me tonight, Christian?"

Holy shit. Did I just say that? His mouth drops open slightly, like a shark's at rest, but he recovers quickly.

"No, Anastasia, it doesn't. First, I don't make love. I fuck. Hard. Like a shark. Secondly, I need to go feed my sharks, and thirdly, you don't yet know what you're in for -"

"Sharks?," I interrupt. "I presume it's sharks I'm in for."

"Okay, fine, yes, it's sharks. Still, let a guy be melodramatic when the mood hits him, alright? Come, I want to show you my shark tank."