Miss Steele, I do believe you’re making my palm twitch.
He makes me graceful, that’s his skill. He makes me sexy, because that’s what he is. He makes me feel loved, because in spite of his fifty shades, he has a wealth of love to give.
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.
I think you can only be truly mad at someone you really love. – Grace Trevelyan.
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.
My inner goddess is jumping up and down, clapping her hands like a five year old.
I love him. Simple.
But I’m a selfish man. I’ve wanted you since you fell into my office. You are exquisite, honest, warm, strong, witty, beguilingly innocent; the list is endless. I’m in awe of you. I want you, and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twisting in my dark soul.
Raising the ordinary to extraordinary.
We have to learn to walk before we can run.
Placing my head on my knees, I let the irrational tears fall unrestrained. I am crying over the loss of something I never had. How ridiculous. Mourning something that never was – my dashed hopes, my dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.
We’ve chased the dawn, Anastasia, now the dusk.
My inner goddes has her sequins on and is warming up to dance the rumba.
Inside me! I gasp, and all the muscles deep in my belly clench. My inner goddess is doing the dance of the seven veils.
I’ve never wanted more, until I met you. – Christian Grey, Fifty Shades of Grey.
Even a pain in the ass needs someone to care about them.
A controlling man, surely a mythical creature?
I cannot be with someone who takes pleasure in inflicting pain on me, someone who can’t love me.
I’m going to say hi to my girl now.