a/n: OK…there wasn't supposed to be another steamy scene, but you all asked for it, and apparently my muse listened. This chapter did not resolve all that it needed to, but I promise the next one will!

Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review!

Ana had no idea now long she'd been sleeping, only that it hadn't been long enough. Her mind was hazy enough that she had to fight to escape slumber. She didn't want to miss a single moment of being stranded with Christian. If there was any chance of a repeat performance, she was game. Of course, she had to be awake if she was going to let him know that.

A groan escaped as she lifted her arms above her head in an attempt to stretch her muscles. When she rolled up onto her side she was surprised to find Christian wasn't beside her as he'd been when she'd fallen asleep. She sat up, the blankets falling to her waist as she looked for him.

"Hey."

Her head flew towards the doorway, and a satisfied sigh escaped her. There he was, leaning against the doorjamb with a grin on his face wearing only his boxer briefs. "You're up."

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand to cover her yawn. "Barely," she admitted.

"How are you feeling?" He moved into the room and sat down on one of the sofas.

"I feel…good." She bit down on her lower lip to fight a grin. There was no need for him to know how giddy she was feeling.

"Yeah?" he pressed.

A single nod was her response.

He leaned forward and placed the tumbler she hadn't realized he was holding on the coffee table. "Come here," he ordered in a gruff voice as he sat back on the couch.

Ana didn't hesitate; standing, she secured the blanked around herself, then made her way to him. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her forward so she was forced to straddle his waist. Her arms found the gap between his lower back and the couch to wrap around him, her cheek resting against his chest as he situated the blanket around them.

"You're not too sore?"

Her nipples tightened when his words vibrated in his chest. She pulled away and met his eyes. "I'm a little sore," she conceded. "But…if you're asking me if I'm too sore to do that again…" She ducked her head into his chest to finish her sentence. "The answer is no."

His answering groan made her grin, a grin that quickly disappeared when he gripped her hair hard enough to yank her head up. "Fuck, Ana," he bit out. "You can't say shit like that."

There was no time for fear as he pulled her to him, his tongue demanding entrance. This wasn't a kiss like any of their previous ones; there was no hint of sharing. Christian was commanding every movement right down to her hips. His hands lowered to grip them tightly, moving her bare pussy back and forth over his quickly growing erection; the only thing separating them was his boxer briefs, and as much as she'd been admiring them before, she hated them now. When she tried to quicken the pace, his hands gripped her tightly in an effort to slow her, and she winced. He'd clutched her hard enough to leave bruises. The thought of that was such a turn on she had to reign herself in not to return the gesture by raking her nails down his chest.

He broke the kiss and turned his head to the side. "I'm sorry," he rasped between breaths.

"For which part?"

"All of it."

He abruptly pushed her off him and stood, grabbing the glass and downing whatever was in it—some sort of liquor Ana had never tasted if his kiss was anything to go by. She tumbled to the couch, grappling with the blanket until she was fully covered. "You're…sorry you slept with me?" she asked in a small voice.

"God, no," he said, raking his hand through his hair as he began to pace back and forth in front of her. "Not for that. Never for that. I was too rough. I—"

"Did…you hear me complain?"

"I didn't give you a chance!" he hissed.

"Did I try to pull away?"

"Ana—"

She laughed miserably. "Here I am desperate to do it again, and you're consumed with regrets!"

His footsteps halted immediately. "You want to…"

"Yes, Grey. I want you to fuck me again." It took everything inside of her to get the words out, but they just wouldn't stay inside.

Christian gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, deliberately slowing his breaths in an attempt to gain control of his body. It was a useless; he knew what she felt like when he was inside of her—the way her body bucked against his, the way she trembled, how tight she was when she came...

And he loved it. He loved every fucking response his body coaxed from hers, and he wanted to feel it again. Wanted to feel her again.

"Ana…"

He watched as she stood, approaching him cautiously as if he were an animal that had proven to be skittish. He hated himself for doing that to her. A small 'oomph' fell from her lips as he seized her wrist and hauled her against him, pressing a kiss to her forehead in an apology he couldn't put into words.

"I want you," she whispered.

He couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. Damn, she was stubborn. "I want you, too," he said, sure to keep his voice firm so she knew he meant it. "But, Ana…I…" He sighed, hating the words to come—hating himself for not being better prepared, hating this place because he'd searched every nook and cranny, and there wasn't a condom to be found. "I don't have any more protection."

Her soft breaths teased his chest, and it was silent for a long time. So long his arms gave her a gentle squeeze. "It doesn't mean we can't do other things," he pointed out, deciding right then and there that he desperately needed to be her first blow job, fully aware of how greedy that made him. He wanted to be her first everything. Bastard? Maybe. But the thought of her lips around him, sucking him…of her swallowing his come…some primal part of him needed that.

"Ana," he prompted.

She took a deep breath, then lifted her eyes to his. "OK, so...I've been doing the math in my head."

His gut churned—both hopeful and guarded at what he knew was coming. "Ana," he said in a warning voice. When he tried to step back, her hold on him tightened.

"This may be the dumbest suggestion I've ever made, but…I know basic biology. The chances that I'm actually ovulating…"

When he arched his brows, she lowered her chin. "Pregnancy isn't the only thing to worry about, Ana."

Her cheeks heated. "I think it's pretty obvious I'm not packing an STI."

"'Packing?'" he repeated, humor lacing his voice.

Her chin lifted defiantly. "And I can tell you want me again! But you're resisting because we don't have a condom! Which leads me to believe you always use condoms."

He forced himself to remain still, unspeaking.

"Christian?" she persisted.

He sighed in resignation. "I've never had sex without protection," he confirmed. "But you shouldn't believe a word that comes out of my mouth, because I'm a male with an opportunity to get laid," he reminded her dryly.

She shrugged. "Fine. If you think you can walk away from me and not regret taking me up on this when all you have to do is pull out—"

"Stop," he snapped. Her gaze hardened; she wasn't going to back down. The throbbing in his cock became even more insistent at the idea of how much she wanted him, of taking her with nothing between them. How was it possible to crave her even more?

"I'm a selfish motherfucker, Ana." He hands encircled her arms and hauled her to him. "Because I'm going to take you up on that."