“You love me,” I whisper.His eyes widen further and his mouth opens. He takes a huge breath as if winded. He looks tortured—vulnerable.“Yes,” he whispers. “I do.”

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers.“Oh, for crying out loud—no! I am not going to go!” I shout and it’s cathartic. There, I’ve said it. I am not leaving.“Really?” His eyes widen.“What can I do to make you understand I will not run? What can I say?”He gazes at me, revealing his fear and anguish again. He swallows. “There is one thing you can do.”“What?” I snap.“Marry me,” he whispers.”

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

“[Ana] “You’re a sadist?”“I’m a Dominant.” His eyes are a scorching gray, intense.“What does that mean?” I whisper.“It means I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me, in all things.”I frown at him as I try to assimilate this idea.“Why would I do that?”“To please me,” he whispers as he cocks his head to one side, and I see a ghost of a smile.Please him! He wants me to please him! I think my mouth drops open. Please Christian Grey. And I realize, in that moment, that yes, that’s exactly what I want to do. I want him to be damned delighted with me. It’s a revelation.”

“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.”

“You brought me here to admire the view?" I whisper. He nods, his expression serious."It's staggering, Christian. Thank you," I murmur, letting my eyes feast on it once more. He releases my hand."How would you like to look at it for the rest of your life?" he breathes.”

“You love strapping me in, don’t you?” “In any form,” he says, a wicked grin playing on his lips. “You are a pervert.” “I know.” He raises his eyebrows and his grin broadens. “My pervert,” I whisper. “Yes, yours.”