“The platinum Omega watch he gave me at breakfast on our first morning in London obscures the red line. The inscription still makes me swoon. Anastasia You are My More My Love, My Life Christian” — E.L. James Copy Share Image
“Don’t,” he murmurs, then kisses me lightly. “Why don’t you like to be touched?” I whisper, staring up into soft gray eyes. “Because I’m… — E.L. James Copy Share Image
“If he touches me, I will succumb. I know the power he wields over me and my traitorous body. I know.” — E.L. James Copy Share Image
“I’ve been so busy I haven’t managed to contact her since this morning, but she’s been hovering at the edge of my consciousness all… — E.L. James Copy Share Image
“Let me ask you something first. Do you want a regular vanilla relationship with no kinky fu*kery at all?” — E.L. James Copy Share Image
“And the baby?" The words are anguished, breathless. "The baby's fine, Mr. Grey." "Oh, thank God." The words are litany... a prayer, "Oh, thank… — E.L. James Copy Share Image
“No. No!” he says. “I . . .” He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I don’t know. “You can’t… — E.L. James Copy Share Image
“Because we're getting to know each other, and you're stubborn and cantankerous and moody and difficult.” — E.L. James Copy Share Image
