“His magic is powerful, intoxicating. I'm a butterfly caught in his net, unable and unwilling to escape. I'm his ....... totally his". (Ana to Christian)”

“He mumbles in his sleep, "Don't touch me. No more. Only Ana.:”

“No. No!” he says.“I . . .” He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I don’t know.“You can’t go. Ana, I love you!”“I love you, too, Christian, it’s just—”“No . . . no!” he says in desperation and puts both hands on his head. “Christian . . .”“No,” he breathes, his eyes wide with panic, and suddenly he drops to his knees in front of me, head bowed, long-fingered hands spread out on his thighs. He takes a deep breath and doesn’t move. What? “Christian, what are you doing?”He continues to stare down, not looking at me. “Christian! What are you doing?”My voice is high-pitched. He doesn’t move. “Christian, look at me!” I command in panic. His head sweeps up without hesitation, and he regards me passively with his cool gray gaze—he’s almost serene . . . expectant.Holy Fuck . . . Christian. The submissive.”

“No man has ever affected me the way Christian Grey has, and I cannot fathom why. Is it his looks? His civility? Wealth? Power? I don't understand my irrational reaction.”

“I'm anything but fine. I feel like the sun has set and not risen for five days, Ana. I'm in perpetual night here".”

“I got over it, and I'm now a firm advocate of instant gratification. Carpe diem, Ana.”

“Anastasia.” He answers immediately, his voice warm and caressing. How is it that this man can make me melt over the phone?“Christian, Jack has asked me to get his lunch.”“Lazy bastard,” Christian gripes.”