I struggle to keep up with him because my wits have been thoroughly and royally scattered all over the floor and walls of elevator three in the Heathman Hotel.
Who’s he kidding? He’s no gentleman. He has my panties.
I see your pain. It’s hard knowing that I’m the one that has made you feel this way.
We always hurt the ones we love, darling.
I love you and all your kinky fuckery.
He’s like several different people in one body. Isn’t that a symptom of schizophrenia? I must Google that.
My belief is to achieve success in any scheme one has to make oneself master of that scheme, know it inside and out, know every detail.
Crusty and Cross here,? he says and I grin. He’s still playful Fifty. My inner goddess is clapping her hands with glee like a small child.
He does, and his eyes shoot to mine, wide and gray, alive with wonder and joy. His lip part in disbelief. The word YES flashes on and off on the key ring. “Happy birthday”, I whispered.
I want my world to start and end with you.
You see, Ana men think that anything that comes out of a woman’s mouth is a problem to be solved. Not some vague idea that we’d like to kick around and talk about for a while and then forget. Men prefer action.
Yes, I’m rich. Get use to it. – Christian Grey.
I’ve never felt the way I felt when you left, Anastasia. I would move heaven and earth to avoid feeling like that again.
I just want to bury myself in you and just forget everything but us.
Perhaps Mr. Grey insists on all his employees being blonde. I’m wondering idly if that’s legal.
Well, when you were nearly run over by the cyclist-and i was holding you and you were looking up at me – all ’kiss me, kiss me, Christian.
How does he do this to me? He’s just touching a small area of my body and the hormones are flying.
I’m drawn, Icarus to the sun. I’ve been burned already, and yet here I am again.
To: Christian Grey You’ve made me cry again. I love the iPad. I love the songs. I love the British Library App. I love you. Goodnight. Ana xx.
Man can hope, dream even.