Would you like something to eat?" I ask.
He nods slowly. "Yes. You." he murmurs.
Stichwörter: christian-grey anastasia-steele
Do you want me to kiss you. Anastasia?" he whispers softly in my ear.
"Yes," I breathe.
"Where?"
"Everywhere.
Stichwörter: christian-grey anastasia-steele
You're my lifeline," he whispers and kisses my knuckles before pressing my palm against his. With his eyes wide and full of fear, he gently tugs my hand and places it on his chest over his heart- in the forbidden zone. His breathing quickens, his heart is beating a frantic pounding tattoo beneath my fingers. He doesn't take his eyes off mine; his jaw tense, his teeth clenched.
I gasp. Oh my Fifty! He's letting me touch him. And it's like all the air in my lungs has vaporized- gone.
Life is never going to be boring with Christian, and I’m in this for the long haul. I love this man: my husband, my lover, father of my child, my sometimes Dominant……my Fifty Shades.
E.L. JamesYou're used of taking care to people."
The edge in his voice attracts my attention, and I glance up at him.
"What is it?" I ask, startled by his wary expression.
"I want to take care of you." His luminous eyes glow with some unnamed emotion.
Stichwörter: christian-grey anastasia-steele
You smell heavenly. I slept on your side of your side of the bed because your pillow smells of you.
E.L. JamesI gasp, and I'm Eve in the Garden of Eden, and he's the serpent, and I cannot resist.
E.L. JamesNo. 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.
Stichwörter: christian panic leaving ana submissive
Can I take the cap and gown off now? I feel kind of dorky." You look kind of dorky...my subconscious is at her snarky best. So are you going to introduce Ray to the man you're f**king? She is glaring at me over her wing-shaped spectacles. He'd be so proud.
E.L. JamesOh...a lot of one and some of the other.
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