Darcy Avalos

“You love strapping me in, don’t you?”
“In any form,” he says, a wicked grin playing on his lips.
“You are a pervert.”
“I know.” He raises his eyebrows and his grin broadens.
“My pervert,” I whisper.
“Yes, yours.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades Darker

“I gasp, and his mouth swoops down. He’s kissing me, violently. Briefly our teeth clash, then his tongue is in my mouth.
Desire explodes like the Fourth of July throughout my body, and I’m kissing him back, matching his fervor, my hands knotting in his hair, pulling it, hard. He groans, a low sexy sound in the back of his throat that reverberates through me, and his hand moves down my body to the top of my thigh, his fingers digging into my flesh through the plum dress.
I pour all the angst and heartbreak of the last few days into our kiss, binding him to me, and it hits me—in this moment of blinding passion—he’s doing the same, he feels the same.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades Darker

“I would have told you earlier, but as it was your birthday . . . What do you give the man who has everything? I thought I’d give you . . . me.”
He puts the keychain down on the bedside table and snuggles in beside me, pulling me into his arms against his chest so that we’re spooning.
“It’s perfect. Like you.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades Darker

“You wanted hearts and flowers,” he murmurs.
I blink at him, not quite believing what I’m seeing.
“You have my heart.” And he waves toward the room.
“And here are the flowers,” I whisper, completing his sentence. “Christian, it’s lovely.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades Darker