“- "Why don't you like to be touched?"
- "Because I'm fifty shades of fucked-up, Anastasia”
“Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me. Perhaps I've spent too long in the company of my literary romantic heroes, and consequently my ideals and expectations are far too high.”
“You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince”
“We aim to please Miss Steele”
“Never trust a man who can dance.”
“Don't get your panties in such a twist... and give me back mine.”
“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, but he recovers quickly.
“No, Anastasia it doesn’t. Firstly, I don’t make love. I fuck… hard. Secondly, there’s a lot more paperwork to do, and thirdly, you don’t yet know what you’re in for. You could still run for the hills. Come, I want to show you my playroom.”
My mouth drops open. Fuck hard! Holy shit, that sounds so… hot. But why are we looking at a playroom? I am mystified.
“You want to play on your Xbox?” I ask. He laughs, loudly.
“No, Anastasia, no Xbox, no Playstation. Come.”… Producing a key from his pocket, he unlocks yet another door and takes a deep breath.
“You can leave anytime. The helicopter is on stand-by to take you whenever you want to go, you can stay the night and go home in the morning. It’s fine whatever you decide.”
“Just open the damn door, Christian.”
He opens the door and stands back to let me in. I gaze at him once more. I so want to know what’s in here. Taking a deep breath I walk in.
And it feels like I’ve time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition.
“I'd like to bite that lip.”
“I've kissed a prince, Mom. I hope it doesn't turn into a frog.”
“Men aren't really complicated, Ana, honey. They are very simple, literal creatures. They usually mean what they say. And we spend hours trying to analyze what they've said - when really it's obvious. If I were you, I'd take him literally. That might help.”
“I am going to have coffee with Christian Grey... and I hate coffee.”
“I want you sore, baby,” he murmurs, and he continues his sweet, leisurely torment, backward, forward. “Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I’ve been here. Only me. You are mine.”
“He grabs me suddenly and yanks me up against him, one hand at my back holding me to him and the other fisting in my hair.
"You're one challenging woman," He kisses me, forcing my lips apart with his tongue, taking no prisoners.
"It's taking all my self-control not to fuck you on the hood of this car, just to show you that you're mine, and if I want to buy you a fucking car, I'll buy you a fucking car," he growls.”
“His head turns fractionally toward me, his eyes darkest slate. I bite my lip.
“Oh, fuck the paperwork,” he growls. He lunges at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator. Before I know it, he’s got both of my hands in one of his in a vice-like grip above my head, and he’s pinning me to the wall using his hips. Holy shit. His other hand grabs my ponytail and yanks down, bringing my face up, and his lips are on mine. 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. I have never been kissed like this.”
“There's a very fine line between pleasure and pain. They are two sides of the same coin, one not existing without the other.”
“Why don't you like me ?" "Because you never stay with me.”
“It's very hard to grow up in a perfect family when you're not perfect.”
“Why don't you like to be touched" Ana whispered, staring up into soft grey eyes.
"Because I'm fifty shades of fucked-up, Anastasia”
“I still want more," I whisper. "I know," he says. "I'll try." I blink up at him, and he reliquishes my hand and pulls at my chin, releasing my trapped lip. "For you, Anastasia, I will try.”
“Supposing I’ve said I hate him, or worse still, that I love him, in my sleep.”
“I gasp, and I'm Eve in the Garden of Eden, and he's the serpent, and I cannot resist.”
“This is a man in need. His fear is naked and obvious, but he's lost. . . Somewhere in his darkness.
His eyes wide and bleak and tortured. I can soothe him. Join him briefly in the darkness and bring him into the light.”
“My inner goddess is jumping up and down, clapping her hands like a five year old.”
“Are you smirking at me, Mr. Grey?” I ask sweetly. Pompous ass.”
“He's naked except for those soft ripped jeans, top button casually undone. Jeez, he looks so freaking hot. My subconscious is frantically fanning herself, and my inner goddess is swaying and writhing to some primal carnal rhythm.”
“Your stepfather? I'd like to meet him."
Oh no... why?
"I'm not sure that's a good idea."
Christian unlocks the door, his mouth in a grim line.
"Are you ashamed of me?"
"No!" It's my turn to sound exasperated. "Introduce you to my dad as what? 'This is the man who deflowered me and wants to start a BDSM relationship'. You're not wearing running shoes.”
“Las grandes esperanzas que se tienen en la vida a veces se transforman en pequeñas piedras con las que se puede tropezar.”
“Because it shouldn't hurt to be touched.”
“Your girl?” I asked, my voice coming out in a near on squeak.
“Yeah,” he answered, his voice deep, low and firm.
“This is, well…kinda weird.” Understatement! “And fast.” Extreme understatement!
“Met you twelve years ago and we’re just gettin’ here. I don’t call that fast. I call that a waste of fuckin’ time I’m about to rectify.”
“Why is it forbidden down here and promised up there? Drunken driving. Maybe God doesn’t want humanity to drink while it’s driving the universe to its place, holding on to the steering wheel of heaven”
“Okay.” Mavis nodded decisively. “Then you tear it down. You don’t take no for an answer. You nag and you pick and you stick until it pops out of him. Whatever it is. Girls are good at this, Dallas.” “I’m not good at being a girl.” “Sure you are. You’re your own kind of girl. Think of it as kicking his ass until he cracks.”
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