“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" Christian Grey”

“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.”

“You like the car. I like the car. I've fucked you in it... Perhaps I should fuck you on it.”

“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.Holy fuck.”

“So you're my boss now," I snap."Technically, I'm you're boss's boss's boss.""And technically, it's gross moral turpitude- the fact that i am fucking my boss's boss's boss.""At the moment, you're arguing with him." Christian scowls.”

“... I'm laughing at your audacity, Mrs. Lincoln. Christian and I have nothing to do with you. And if I do leave him and you come looking for me, I'll be waiting - don't doubt it. And maybe I'll give you a taste of your own medicine on behalf of the fifteen-year-old child you molested and propably fucked-up even more than he already was.”

“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”