“What is it about elevators?”

“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.”

“The elevator doors open on the ground floor. Christian shakes his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts and gestures for me to exit before him in a most gentlemanly manner.Who’s he kidding? He’s no gentleman. He has my panties.”

“To: Christian GreyDear Completely & Utterly SmittenI love waking up to you, too. But I love being in bed with you and in elevators and on pianos and billiard tables and boats and desks and showers and bathtubs and strange wooden crosses with shackels and four-poster beds with red satin sheets and boathouses and childhood bedrooms.”

“I'm talking about the heavy shit, Anastasia. You should see what I can do with a cane or a cat.”

“He lunges at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator. Before I know it, he's got both of my hands in one of his in a vise-like grip above my head, and he's pinning me to the wall using his hips. Holy shit. His other hand grabs my hair and yanks down, bringing my face up, and his lips are on mine. It's only just not painful. I moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. He takes full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth. I have never been kissed like this. My tongue tentatively strokes his and joins his in a slow, erotic dance that's all about touch and sensation, all bump and grind. He brings his hand up to grasp my chin and holds me in place. I'm helpless, my hands pinned, my face held, and his hips restraining me. His erection is against my belly. Oh my... He wants me. Christian Grey, Greek god, wants me, and I want him, here... now, in the elevator.”

“You know, you’re topping from the bottom,” he murmurs against my lips.“What?” I don’t understand what he’s talking about.“Don’t worry. I’ll live with it,” he whispers, amused...”