Fifty Shades Freed Quotes

Christian, you are the state lottery, the cure for cancer, and the three wishes from Aladdin's lamp all rolled into one

I want your world to begin and end with me.

I think you can only be truly mad at someone you really love.

He makes me graceful, that's his skill. He makes me sexy, because that's what he is. He makes me feel loved, because in spite of his fifty shades, he has a wealth of love to give.

Are you still mad at me?" "Yes." "I'll go back to sleep, then." "Good.

It's much easier to wear your pain on the outside...

Oh Christian... my possessive, jealous, control freak Christian.

I hate fighting with you,” he whispers. “Well, stop being such an arse.” He chuckles and the captivating sound reverberates through his chest. He tightens his hold on me. “Arse?” “Ass.” “I prefer arse.” “You should. It suits you.

From: Christian Grey Subject: My Life's Mission... Date: September 5, 2011 09:25 To: Anastasia Grey Is to spoil you, Mrs. Grey. And keep you safe because I love you. Christian Grey Smitten CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

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.

I always want more, with you.

You smell heavenly. I slept on your side of your side of the bed because your pillow smells of you.

I was waiting for you," he says softly, his eyes dark gray and luminous. "That's... that's such a lovely thing to say." "It's true. I didn't know it at the time." He smiles his shy smile. "I'm glad you waited." "You are worth waiting for, Mrs. Grey.

My inner goddes has her sequins on and is warming up to dance the rumba.

My world was ordered, calm, and controlled, then you came into my life with your smart mouth, your innocence, your beauty, and your quiet temerity ...and everything before you was just dull, empty, mediocre ...it was nothing.

Anatasia You Are My More My Love, My Life Christian

Oh my, the look he gives me could be solely responsible for global warming.

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...

I know you've always dreamed of going to Europe," he says softly. "I want to make your dreams come true, Anastasia." "You are my dreams come true, Christian." "Back at you, Mrs. Grey," he whispers.

Just remember that men are from a different planet, and you'll be fine.

He mumbles in his sleep, "Don't touch me. No more. Only Ana.:

We always hurt the ones we love, darling.

I need you." Every pore of my being is begging. This is what we do.

Good evening, Mrs. Grey," Christian says softly. He's standing by the piano, dressed in a tight black T-shirt, and jeans...those jeans- the ones he wore in the playroom. Oh my. They are over washed pale-blue denim, snug, ripped at the knee and hot. He saunters over to me, his feet bare, the top button of the jeans undone, his smoldering eyes never leaving mine. "Good to have you home. I've been waiting for you.

It's because I'm pregnant, Christian." He snorts, and his mouth twists into an ironic smile. "If I knew getting you knocked up was going to make you eat, I might have done it earlier.

grow up and smell the fucking coffee!

Mine," he whispers. "Yours," I breathe.

I haven't mentioned her to Flynn, and I'm glad because I'm now behaving like a stalker. Perhaps I should let him know".

Your lips are so soft when you cry.

My parents think you walk on water.

He tastes of white wine and apple pie and Christian. I run my fingers through his hair, holding him to me while our tongues explore and curl and twist around each other, my blood heating in my veins.We're breathless when Christian pulls away.

And the baby?" The words are anguished, breathless. "The baby's fine, Mr. Grey." "Oh, thank God." The words are litany... a prayer, "Oh, thank God.

And now my past and my future are colliding in a way I never thought possible.

God, I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” - Christian Grey

Oh no! My subconscious slams down her Complete Works of Charles Dickens, leaps up from her armchair, and puts her hands on her hips.

I like to make the odd impromptu visit. It keeps management on their toes, wives in their place. You know." He shrugs, his mouth set in an arrogant line.

We always hurt the ones we love, darling. You’ll have to tell her you’re sorry. And mean it and give her time. - Grace Trevelyan-Grey to Christian Grey

The platinum Omega watch he gave me at breakfast on our first morning in London obscures the red line. The inscription still makes me swoon. Anastasia You are My More My Love, My Life Christian

Unwrapping the paper carefully so it doesn’t tear, I find a beautiful red leather box. Cartier. It’s familiar, thanks to my second-chance earrings and my watch. Cautiously, I open the box to discover a delicate charm bracelet of silver, or platinum or white gold—I don’t know, but it’s absolutely enchanting. Attached to it are several charms: the Eiffel Tower, a London black cab, a helicopter—Charlie Tango, a glider—the soaring, a catamaran—The Grace, a bed, and an ice cream cone? I look up at him, bemused. “Vanilla?” He shrugs apologetically, and I can’t help but laugh. Of course. “Christian, this is beautiful. Thank you. It’s yar.” He grins. My favorite is the heart. It’s a locket. “You can put a picture or whatever in that.” “A picture of you.” I glance at him through my lashes. “Always in my heart.” He smiles his lovely, heartbreakingly shy smile. I fondle the last two charms: a letter C—oh yes, I was his first girlfriend to use his first name. I smile at the thought. And finally, there’s a key. “To my heart and soul,” he whispers.

Ray's voice echoes in my head from one of his many self-defense lectures. "It's the panic that's gonna kill you or get you seriously hurt, Annie.

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.

I glance down his body. He's still wearing his shorts and his shirt, and I still have my T-shirt on. Jeez-- talk about wham, bam, thank you ma'am.

From: Christian Grey Subject: &*%$&*&* Date: August 23 2011 11:23 To: Anastasia Grey Believe me when I say there are a great many things he'd like to do to your ass right now. Firing you is not one of them. Christian Grey CEO & Ass man, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

If he touches me, I will succumb. I know the power he wields over me and my traitorous body. I know.

His wedding ring clinks against the glass as he takes another sip of wine. Now that is a sexy sound. This time he pulls my head right back, cradling me. He kisses me once more, and greedily I swallow the wine he gives me. He smiles as he kisses me again.

Drinking in his scent, I curl around him, trying to ignore the loss and devasta- tion I felt in my dream, and in that moment, I know that my deepest, darkest fear would be losing him

everything before you was just dull, empty, mediocre … it was nothing.

—Parece que no sólo es decorativa, sino útil, también.

There’s a gun in your desk. It’s fully loaded.” “How do you know?” His frown deepens. “I checked it yesterday.” “I don’t want you messing with guns. I hope you put the safety back on.” I blink at him, momentarily stupefied. “Christian, there’s no safety on that revolver. Don’t you know anything about guns?” His eyes widen. “Um . . . no.

Oh... Blip. Yeah, I see." He sounds distracted, awed. "Your child," I whisper. "Our child." He counters.

His eyes are gray oceans of loss and hurt and pain.

Let’s split up.” Mia claps her hands. “Girls, shopping—boys, outdoor boring stuff.

I'd really like to tie you up right now" - Christian Grey

You can fuck me seven shades of sunday this evening." - Ana Grey

I’ve never promised to play fair where you’re concerned.

Abruptly, Elliot startles us all by standing and pulling his chair back so it scrapes across the tile floor. All eyes turn to him. He gazes down at Kate for one moment and then drops to one knee beside her. Oh. My. God. He reaches for her hand, and silence settles like a blanket over the entire restaurant as everyone stops eating, stops talking, stops walking, and stares. "My beautiful Kate, I love you. Your grace, your beauty, and your fiery spirit have no equal, and you have captured my heart. Spend your life with me. Marry me." Holy shit!

Pursing my lips, I strive to appear unaffected by his touch. He is so artful at diverting me from anything painful, or anything he doesn’t want to address. And you let him, my subconscious pipes up unhelpfully, gazing over her copy of Jane Eyre.

Because my wife worked for him, and I run security checks on anyone my wife works with" - Christian Grey

You certainly know how to silence a room." -Ana "I do it all the time", he says, and he grins at me.

Mein Unterbewusstsein verdreht die Augen und wendet sich wieder der zerlesenen Ausgabe von Jane Eyre zu.

It means I can trust you … to stop me. I never want to hurt you,” he murmurs. “I need—” He halts. “You need what?” “I need control, Ana. Like I need you. It’s the only way I can function. I can’t let go of it. I can’t. I’ve tried … And yet, with you …” He shakes his head in exasperation.

Well, Mrs. Grey, you’re in luck. I’m taking requests today.

I solemnly vow that I will safeguard and hold dear and deep in my heart our union and you,

How mad?” “Scale of one to ten, I think I’m at fifty.

I give you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, to stand by your side in good times and in bad, to share your joy as well as your sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals and dreams, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, to share my hopes and dreams with you, and bring you solace in times of need and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live. - Ana Grey

I solemnly vow that I will safeguard and hold dear and deep in my heart our union and you, I promise to love you faithfully, forsaking all others, through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, regardless of where life takes us. I will protect you, trust you, and respect you. I will share your joys and sorrows and comfort you in times of need. I promise to cherish you and uphold your hopes and dreams and keep you safe at my side. All that is mine is now yours. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love from this moment on for as long as we both shall live." - Christian Grey

Okay,” I mumble, completely bemused, bewildered, and shell-shocked. He leans over my desk. What now? I am caught in his hypnotic gaze. “Love doing business with you, Mrs. Grey.” He leans in closer as I sit paralyzed, and he plants a soft tender kiss on my lips. “Laters baby,” he murmurs. He stands abruptly, winks at me, and leaves. I lay my head on my desk, feeling like I’ve been run over by a freight train – the freight train that is my beloved husband. He has to be the most frustrating, annoying, contrary man on the planet. I sit up and frantically rub my eyes. What have I just agreed to?

Oh, Ana,” Christian whispers, his voice anguished and pained. “I thought I’d lost you. Then I thought I’d lost you again. Seeing you lying on the ground, pale and cold and unconscious—it was all my worst fears realized. And now here you are—brave and strong … giving me hope. Loving me after all that I’ve done.” “Yes, I do love you, Christian, desperately. I always will.

-Prometo solemnemente que te protegeré y que valoraré profundamente en mi corazón nuestra unión y a ti-susurra,con vos ronca-.Prometo amarte fielmente,renunciando a las otras,a través de los buenos y los malos tiempos,en la enfermedad o en la salud, independientemente del lugar donde la vida nos lleve.Te protegeré,confiare en ti y te respetare.Compartiré tus alegrías y penas y consolaré en los momentos de necesidad. Me comprometo a cuidarte y mantener tus esperanzas y suelos y mantenerte a salvo a mi lado.Todo lo que es mío ahora es tuyo. Te doy mi mano, mi corazón y mi amor desde este momento por tanto tiempo como ambos vivamos.

This would be a perfect day if Ray were here with us, but he's not far away. He's doing well, and I know he'd like to enjoy yourself, Ana. To all of you, thank you for coming to share my beautiful wife's birthday, the first of many to come. Happy birthday, my love." - Christian Grey

His wedding ring clinks against the glass as he takes another sip of wine. Now that is a sexy sound.

Mrs. Grey, if a job's worth doing, it's worth doing well. Lift your hips." His eyes glow summer storm gray.

I want you to throw the fucking book at him, Dad" - Christian Grey

the panic that’s gonna kill you or get you seriously hurt,

Good. So, Mrs. Grey . . . by popular demand, I’m going to restrain you.” His

Every time I look at him, it makes me smile

You've got to let me make my own decisions, take my own risks, and make my own mistakes, and let me learn from them. I need to walk before I can run

The world of Katherine Kavanagh is very clear, very black and white. Not the intangible, mysterious, vague hues of gray that color my world. Welcome to my world.

Hey, I'm just teasing. Isn't that what husbands who are hopelessly in love with their wives do?

My inner goddess is celebrating her inner bitch.

It's a little blip. There's a tiny little blip in my belly. Tiny. Wow. I forget my discomfort as I stare dumbfounded at the blip.... The little blip is a baby. A real honest to goodness baby. Christian's baby. My baby. Holy cow. A baby! - Ana Grey

I want you to like it, too. To be happy in it, too.” “I’ll be happy wherever you are. It’s that simple, Ana.” His gaze holds mine. He is utterly, utterly sincere. I blink at him as my heart expands. Holy cow, he really does love me. “Well”—I swallow, fighting the small knot of emotion that catches in my throat—“I

I nod, and taking my tea, I head into the library. It’s my refuge. I dig my BlackBerry out of my purse and contemplate calling Christian. I know it’s a shock for him—but he really did overreact. When does he not overreact?

Would you let me drive this?" I ask, surprised that I say the words out loud. "Of course," Christian replies, smiling. "What's mine is yours. If you dent it, though, I will take you into the Red Room of Pain." He glances swiftly at me with a malicious grin. "You're kidding. You'd punish me for denting your car? You love your car more than you love me?" I tease. "It's close," he says and reaches across to squeeze my knee, "But she doesn't keep me warm at night." "I'm sure it could be arranged. You could sleep in her," I snap. Christian laughs. "We haven't been home one day and you're kicking me out already?" He seems delighted.

I promise to love you faithfully, forsaking all others, through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, regardless of where life takes us. I will protect you, trust you, and respect you. I will share your joys and sorrows and comfort you in times of need. I promise to cherish you and uphold your hopes and dreams and keep you safe at my side. All that is mine is now yours. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love from this moment on for as long as we both shall live.

It was brief. Last year, I think. She’s a social climber. No wonder she has her sights set on Christian.” “Christian is taken. I told her to leave him alone or I would fire her.” Kate gapes at me once more, stunned. I nod proudly, and she lifts her glass to salute me, impressed and beaming. “Mrs. Anastasia Grey! Way to go!” We clink.

He has some explaining to do, but right now I want to revel in the feel of his comforting, protective arms around me. And in that moment it occurs to me; any explanations on his part have to come from him. I can’t force him—he’s got to want to tell me. I won’t be cast as the nagging wife, constantly trying to wheedle information out of her husband. It’s just exhausting. I know he loves me. I know he loves me more than he’s ever loved anyone, and for now, that’s enough. The realization is liberating. I stop crying and step back.

I explode around him, crying out an incoherent rendition of his name as my intense orgasm arches my back off the bed. I think I see stars it’s such a visceral primal feeling … 

My subconscious eyes me warily over her tortoiseshell half-moon specs.

My subconscious rolls her eyes at me in despair and goes back to reading her dog-eared copy of Jane Eyre.

You can't fathom why some people behave the way they do

You're like a freight train, and I don't want to get railroaded because the girl you fell in love with will be crushed.

I agree to the conditions, Angel; because you know best what my punishment ought to be; only—only—don’t make it more than I can bear!

 Good … Thank you.” He hangs

I understand your concerns are something to do with material that was on Jack’s computer here—or so Kate believes. Do you know how annoying it is to find out my best friend knows more about what’s going on with you than I do? And I am your WIFE. So are you going to tell me? Or will you continue to treat me like a child, guaranteeing that I continue to behave like one?

We’re not going to make love? And I’m relieved. In fact, he’s had a totally hands-off approach with me all day. I wonder if I should be alarmed by this turn of events, but since my inner goddess has left the building and taken my libido with her, I’ll think about it in the morning.

And you decided that it was nice knowing me? Do you mean knowing me in the biblical sense?” Oh, shit. I flush. “I didn’t think you were familiar with the Bible.” “I went to Sunday school, Anastasia. It taught me a great deal.” “I don’t remember reading about nipple clamps in the Bible. Perhaps you were taught from a modern translation.” His lips arch with a trace of a smile, and my eyes are drawn to his mouth. “Well, I thought I should come and remind you how nice it was knowing me.

Oh, I love megalomaniac Christian, too, and control freak Christian, sexpertise Christian, kinky Christian, romantic Christian, shy Christian … the list is endless.” “That’s a whole lot of Christians.” “I’d say at least fifty.” He laughs. “Fifty Shades,” he murmurs into my hair. “My Fifty Shades.

I smile at the thought. And finally, there’s a key. “To my heart and soul,” he whispers. Tears prick my eyes. I launch myself at him, curling my arms around his neck and settling into his lap. “It’s such a thoughtful present. I love it. Thank you,” I murmur against his ear. Oh, he smells so good—clean, of fresh linen, body wash, and Christian. Like home, my home. My threatened tears begin to fall.

I want you to tell me something,” I whisper. “What?” “Don’t get mad.” “What is it, Ana?” “You do care.” His eyes widen, and all trace of his good humor vanishes. “I want you to admit that you care. Because the Christian I know and love would care.” He stills, his eyes not leaving mine, and I’m witness to his internal struggle as if he’s about to make the judgment of Solomon. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again as some fleeting emotion crosses his face … pain, maybe.