“Christian, you are the state lottery, the cure for cancer, and the three wishes from Aladdin’s lamp all rolled into one”
“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 in 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.”
“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.”
“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.”
“Ana: I love philanthropic Christian.
Christian: Just him?
Ana: Oh, I love megalomaniac Christian, too, and control freak Christian, sexpertise Christian, kinky Christian, romantic Christian, shy Christian … the list is endless.
Christian: That’s a whole lot of Christians.
Ana: I’d say at least fifty.
Christian: (laughs) Fifty Shades.
Ana: My Fifty Shades.”
“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?”
“I prefer arse.”
“You should. It suits you.”
“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.”
“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.”
“Oh Christian… my possessive, jealous, control freak Christian.”
“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.”
“I need you.” Every pore of my being is begging. This is what we do.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“I’ll go back to sleep, then.”
“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.”
“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 think it’s time for me to reread this series…um…for the 4th or 5th time…writing this post has made me realize how much I’ve missed Christian and Ana.
I’ve saved one last quote for a reason…I’ll share why after…
“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…”
The part I underlined has been a search engine term that has brought many, many people to Bookish. It’s usually in a question form: What does topping from the bottom mean? is pretty standard.
When I first read that I had no idea what it meant…so I googled it.
Here are a few definitions…
Topping from the bottom is a misunderstood term in BDSM, especially if you are a novice. The idea behind the term is to actually help submissives understand their role, and isn’t more than a faux pas. During interactions with your Dominant, it’s a lesson to know that you can’t control what is going on. Topping from the bottom is when you simultaneously adopt both roles. This could be in the form of giving commands, refusing requests or moving to control the location of impacts during play. Generally it is frowned upon to try to force the dominant’s hand to do something they do not wish to do.
Ana was playing more into the roll of (master/dom). That she was being the boss for lack of better words.
Topping from the bottom is BDSM terminology meaning the sub is trying to control the situation, instead of being a sub.
I’ve seen that term in other books since reading Fifty Freed, and it always makes me smile now.
I hope you enjoyed today’s SSS…I sure did