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“I want you sore, baby,” he murmurs, and he continues his sweet, leisurely torment, backward, forward. “Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I’ve been here. Only me. You are mine.”
“There's a very fine line between pleasure and pain. They are two sides of the same coin, one not existing without the other.”
“I gasp, and I'm Eve in the Garden of Eden, and he's the serpent, and I cannot resist.”
“In my groggy frame of mind, he looks yummy.”
“And in this quiet moment, as I close my eyes, spent and sated, I think I'm in the eye of the storm. And in spite of all he's said and what he hasn't said, I don't think I have ever been so happy.”
“I've never wanted more, until I met you.”
"Perhaps this nonsensical pain will be smaller the smaller I am. Placing my head on my knees, I let the irrational tears fall unrestrained. I am crying over the loss of something I never had. How ridiculous.”
“The pain is such that I refuse to acknowledge it. I feel numb. I have somehow escaped from my body and am now a casual observer to this unfolding tragedy.”
“I still want more," I whisper. "I know," he says. "I'll try." I blink up at him, and he reliquishes my hand and pulls at my chin, releasing my trapped lip. "For you, Anastasia, I will try.”
“I am going to have coffee with Christian Grey... and I hate coffee.”
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