Reese held her breath as she watched the ballpoint pen glide across the final cream-colored page of the contract. Her heart raced with each stroke, the black ink settling into the fibers of the paper like the culmination of all her hard work. She had done it. Not only was this the first house she had ever sold during a broker's open event, but she had also managed to sell it before it was officially released on the market. A faint smile spread across her lips as she reached for the document, her fingers trembling slightly. She sucked in a cool breath, the air in the luxurious foyer feeling somehow lighter, and exhaled deeply. It had been such a challenging ordeal, but she could finally stand there, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment. Christian and his buyer, Mr. Peterson, shook hands, their voices exchanging positive affirmations. It was done.

"And thank you also, Mrs. Sutherlin. I—"

"It's Ms.," Christian interrupted sharply, his gaze cutting from Mr. Peterson to Reese. His eyes burned with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine.

Reese met his intense stare, feeling a spark ignite in the space between them. She sensed a slight annoyance in his voice, not just at Mr. Peterson's assumption but at the very idea that anyone else could claim her. She could speak for herself, though. "Yes," she said softly, maintaining eye contact with Christian. "It's Ms."

"Oh," Mr. Peterson replied, his eyebrows arching in surprise. "I just assumed that someone as beautiful as you would have been spoken for," he smirked, his eyes lingering a bit too long.

"You would think," Reese chuckled, her voice carrying a teasing edge.

"Why aren't you?" Mr. Peterson pressed, his curiosity piqued.

"I guess I haven't really found the one," she sighed, her gaze briefly flicking back to Christian, whose jaw clenched tighter with every word.

"Maybe you've been looking in all the wrong places," Mr. Peterson suggested, his tone suggestive.

"You might not be wrong," Reese replied, smiling shyly, her heart racing not from Mr. Peterson's attention but from the tension building between her and Christian.

"Ahem," Christian cleared his throat, stepping closer, his posture rigid. "Mark, I thought you had another engagement to get to," he said, his voice firm, almost a growl.

"Right," Mr. Peterson chuckled awkwardly, his confidence momentarily shaken under Christian's piercing stare.

Reese glanced at Christian, noticing the fire in his eyes. He pressed his lips together hard, clearly struggling to keep himself from saying more. She knew his temper could potentially jeopardize the sale if he let it flare. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at her, urging her silently to wrap up the conversation before he lost control.

"Over the next couple of days, we'll process the paperwork. If there's anything that I or the Redwood Group can do to assist you further, Mr. Peterson, please don't hesitate to call," Reese said, handing him her business card with a professional smile.

"How about dinner?" Mr. Peterson grinned, his tone light, but his eyes serious.

"No," Christian's voice cut through the air, firm and commanding, echoing in the now half-empty foyer.

"I—I'm sorry, Mr. Peterson," Reese interjected quickly, flashing a warning look at Christian, "but I don't date clients." She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.

"That's too bad," Mr. Peterson replied with a toothy grin, turning his attention back to Christian. "Mr. Grey, always a pleasure," he nodded before making a swift exit.

The door had barely clicked shut behind Mr. Peterson before Christian's silence broke. "I think you enjoy provoking me," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

"Provoking you?" Reese laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "What have I done now?"

Christian groaned deeply, his gaze raking over her with an intensity that made her skin tingle. "I told you," he said roughly, stepping closer to her, "everything you do provokes me."

"It sounds like," she paused, a playful smile tugging at her lips, "and correct me if I'm wrong, but there's not much I can do about that."

"Oh, but you can," he whispered, pulling her against him in one swift motion.

"Enlighten me," she whispered back, her lips brushing against his, teasing him.

She didn't know what had come over her—perhaps it was the triumph of selling the Melrose mansion, or finally closing the chapter with Collin, or even the slight dimple that appeared in Christian's left cheek when he clenched his jaw, clearly jealous and annoyed at her exchange with Mr. Peterson. Whatever the reason, she was fully prepared to give in to his antics.

"What am I going to do with you?" he mumbled, his voice a low growl as he fought to control his desire.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," she smiled, pulling away from him playfully. "Now, what should we do to celebrate?"

"How about dinner?" he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"Jealous much?" she quipped, letting her hair down from the tight bun, her curls cascading around her shoulders as she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Not at all, Ms. Sutherlin," he smirked, his tone smug. "Besides, I knew you weren't going anywhere."

"What makes you so sure?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Because," he replied, his voice softening, "even if you haven't admitted it yet, you're right where you want to be."

"Hmm, Christian, don't get too ahead of yourself," she laughed, the sound light and teasing. "Now, your thoughts on celebrating?"

"I think we can celebrate right here," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned closer, "It seems fitting."

"Sure," she agreed, her pulse quickening at the thought.

"Good," he nodded, turning abruptly. "Follow me."

"Christian," Reese called out, quickening her pace to keep up with him. "Where are we going now?"

Christian led her up the grand staircase, his steps purposeful. They reached the end of the hallway, stopping in front of a large, sunken door that she recognized all too well. Reese could feel her heart pounding in her ears; the sound was so loud she wondered if Christian could hear it too. He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable.

"I thought you got rid of this," Reese whispered, her voice barely audible.

"I can't get rid of a room," he replied softly, "only the things in it. Open the door," he instructed, stepping aside.

Reese hesitated for a moment before reaching for the doorknob, turning it slowly. As the door creaked open, she was met with a sight that took her breath away. Gone was the smell of leather, the suspension ropes, and the imposing torture table. Instead, the room was bathed in a soft, warm glow. In the center stood a large bed, covered in rose petals, with a serving board placed where the torture table once stood, laden with assorted fruits, chocolates, and champagne.

"What is all this?" Reese stammered, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Well," Christian said, easing into the room behind her, his tone softer than she had ever heard, "I realized my approach was a bit too forward. I wanted another chance—a chance to be normal."

Reese swallowed hard, a shiver running down her spine. He had planned this, every detail meticulously thought out. The petals were strategically placed in a trail leading to the bed, and the vanilla-scented candles burned brightly, casting a soft, romantic light.

"You planned for this, didn't you?" she asked, turning to face him, her eyes searching his.

"I hoped for it," he corrected, his voice a tender whisper as he closed the distance between them, scooping her into his arms. He planted a soft, lingering kiss on her lips, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her.

His lips were possessive, capturing hers with a hunger that made her knees weak. His breath quickened, and she found herself melting into him, her hands clutching at his shoulders for support. He began to nuzzle her neck, his kisses delicate, like whispers against her skin. She didn't dare pull away this time, not now, not ever. Her body trembled under his touch, her breath hitching in her throat.

"Keep still," he commanded softly between kisses, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill through her.

Reese obeyed, her body quivering as she tried to remain still under the onslaught of his demanding lips. She felt his hands move to her hips, lifting her effortlessly, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. He carried her to the bed, laying her down gently among the rose petals. Stepping back, he appraised her with a look that made her pulse race, his fingers moving to unbutton his shirt with deliberate slowness.

"Take off your clothes," he commanded, his voice deep and commanding.

Reese felt a blush rise to her cheeks, the heat spreading across her skin as she scooted to the edge of the bed. She stood slowly, her fingers moving to the straps of her dress, slipping them off her shoulders. The dress fell to the floor in a soft whisper, revealing her lithe figure. Christian's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

"Do you like what you see?" Reese asked softly, her voice barely a whisper.

"Very much," Christian murmured, his voice rough with desire. He watched her with a smoldering intensity, his gaze tracing the curves of her body as if committing every inch to memory. Reese felt a rush of power under his gaze, a surge of confidence as she stepped closer to him, her bare skin brushing against his as she moved.

She knew he wanted her—every part of her—and she was no longer hesitant. The tension between them had built to a fever pitch, and she was ready to see where it would take them. Christian quickly discarded his shirt, his muscles rippling under the dim light, and stepped towards her, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Now normally, I would have you on your knees, begging," he continued with a smirk, "but tonight, I want to take my time with you. I want to be gentle."

Reese raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Gentle?" she teased, her fingers trailing lightly over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her touch. "I'm not sure that's a word in your vocabulary."

Christian chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Perhaps you're right," he conceded, his hands sliding down to grip her waist, pulling her flush against him. "But I think you'll find I can be full of surprises."

Her breath hitched as his hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every hollow with a reverent touch. His lips found hers again, and this time, the kiss was slow, sensual, a promise of things to come. She felt herself sinking into him, her body melting against his as his hands continued their exploration.

"Reese," he breathed against her lips, his voice a mixture of desire and restraint. "I want you to touch me."

She smiled against his mouth, her hands sliding down his chest, feeling the taut muscles ripple under her touch. Her fingers moved lower, teasingly slow, until she felt the hard length of him pressing against her belly. She wrapped her hand around him, squeezing gently, feeling his sharp intake of breath.

"Like this?" she whispered, her voice sultry, daring him.

"Yes," he groaned, his hips bucking slightly against her hand. "Just like that."

She watched his face, the way his eyes fluttered closed, his lips parting slightly as she began to stroke him, her hand moving with a steady rhythm. His breathing became ragged, his control slipping with each stroke, each caress. She felt a thrill of power, knowing she could make him feel this way, knowing she could push him to the edge.

But Christian wasn't one to be outdone. He reached down, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her head back gently, exposing the delicate line of her throat. He pressed his lips against her neck, sucking gently, then biting down just enough to make her gasp.

"Christian," she moaned, her body arching against him, her hand faltering on his length.

He moved them both towards the bed, his lips never leaving her skin as he lowered her onto the soft sheets. He hovered over her, his eyes dark with desire, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the air thick with unspoken words, with need.

"Reese," he said softly, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her lips. "I need to know... are you sure about this?"

She nodded, her eyes locked on his. "Yes," she whispered. "I've never been more sure of anything."

His lips curved into a slow, sensual smile. "Good," he murmured. "Because I have no intention of stopping."

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, his hand moving down her body, caressing her curves, teasing her skin until she was writhing beneath him, her body aching for his touch. He positioned himself between her legs, his tip brushing against her entrance, and paused, his eyes searching hers.

"Tell me you want this," he demanded, his voice a rough whisper.

"I want this," she breathed, her voice thick with need. "I want you."

He didn't need any more encouragement. With a powerful thrust, he entered her, filling her completely, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. He began to move, his strokes deep and slow, each one sending a jolt of electricity through her body.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his hips driving into her with a steady rhythm. "So tight... so perfect."

Reese's hands clutched at his back, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to hold on, tried to keep herself from falling apart. But he was relentless, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, driving her closer to the edge.

"Christian," she gasped, her breath coming in short, desperate pants. "I'm... I'm going to..."

"Come for me," he whispered in her ear, his voice rough, commanding. "I want to feel all of you."

With a final, powerful thrust, she shattered, her body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over her. She cried out his name, her nails raking down his back as she rode out her orgasm, her body trembling beneath him.

He wasn't far behind. With a few more thrusts, he found his release, his body stiffening as he spilled into her, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

For a moment, they lay there, tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison. Then, slowly, he rolled onto his side, pulling her against him, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his lips brushing against her forehead.

"Yes," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "More than okay."

He smiled, his hand moving to stroke her hair. "Good," he murmured. "Because I have no intention of letting you go."