Amber

“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.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades Freed

“Is there anything you won't do?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I've never done anything like this."
"Well, when you've had sex, was there anything that you didn't like doing?"
For the first time in what seems to be ages, I blush.
"You can tell me, Anastasia. We have to be honest with each other or this isn't going to work."
I squirm uncomfortably again and stare at my knotted fingers.
"Tell me," he commands.
"Well...I haven't had sex before, so I don't know." My voice is small. I peek up at him, and he's gaping at me, frozen, and pale-really pale.
"Never?" he whispers. T shake my head.
"You're a virgin?" he breathes. I nod, flushing again. He closed his eyes and looks to be counting to ten. When he opens them again, he's angry, glaring at me.
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" he growls”
― E.L. James

“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.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades Freed

“We didn’t-?” I whisper, my mouth drying in mortified horror as I can’t complete the question. I stare at my hands.
“Anastasia, you were comatose. Necrophilia is not my thing. I like my women sentient and receptive,” he says dryly.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades of Grey