“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”

“I was holding you and you were looking up at me all ‘kiss me, kiss me, Christian’,” he pauses and shrugs slightly, “I felt I owed you an apology and a warning.”

“I will never get enough of you. Don't leave me," he murmurs and kisses my belly."I'm not going anywhere, Christian, and I seem to remember that I wanted to kiss your belly," I grumble sleepily.He grins at my skin. "Nothing stopping you baby.”

“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.”

“Do you want me to kiss you. Anastasia?" he whispers softly in my ear."Yes," I breathe."Where?""Everywhere.”

“This is my favorite place. Buried in you," he murmurs against my skin."Please, move," I plead."Slow, Mrs. Grey." He flexes his hips again and pleasure radiates through me. I cup his face and kiss him, consuming him."Love me. Please, Christian.”

“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.”