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To: Christian Grey Dear Completely & Utterly Smitten I 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. ↗
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. ↗
Dear Ron, and Harry if you're there, "I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, because I think another delivery might finish your one off. I'm very busy with my schoolwork, of course' ---'and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley? Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione. ↗
From: Christian Grey Subject: Shenaniwhatagans? Date: June 15, 2011 09:32 To: Anastasia Steele You don't have to work, Anastasia. You have no idea how appalled I am at my shenanigans. But I like keeping you up late ;) Please use your blackberry. Oh, and marry me, please. ↗
From: Christian Grey Subject: Sunrise Date: June 14, 2011 09:23 To: Anastasia Steele I love waking up to you in the morning. Christian Grey ↗
I need you, Anastasia," he whispers. "I need you, too." And as I say the words, I am struck how true they are. I cannot imagine being without Christian, ever. "Let me love you." he says hoarsely. "Yes," I answer. ↗
Of course I do. I love you touching me, Ana. I'm like a starving man at a banquet when it comes to your touch. ↗
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. ↗
