Book Christian Grey Novels & Stories

I smiled feeling encouraged by his words. "Can I steal her for a moment?" A voice said from behind, I turned around to see its Mrs Grey. "Erm... sure." Christian replied unsure. He squeezed my shoulder lightly then walked back into the mansion. "Thank you." Mrs Grey said squeezing both her palms. "Why are you thankful ma'am?" I asked confused, having no idea on why she's thanking me. "I might have acted strong, acting like everything was okay when it wasn't...." She paused sighed, her voice breaking a little.

Every word from his mouth, every glance he cast her way, felt like a reminder of everything that had been lost. But she couldn’t ignore him. The Heart of the Greykin. The very name twisted in her gut. If it truly existed, it was the one thing that could change everything. If they could find it, perhaps the curse on her people could finally be broken. Perhaps her kind could stand again, no longer hunted like animals, no longer forced into the shadows. Still, she didn’t trust him. Cassian, for his part, said little on the journey. He was clearly still recovering from the injury she’d treated in the cave, though he refused to acknowledge his pain. His focus was always on the path ahead, as thou

Christiana’s point of view “Christiana Grey! Christiana Grey!” A voice. A familiar voice. A familiar voice of a woman from behind got me stop. I very well knew who she was. Even though, I did not want to stop then, I did stop. Regret. I regretted stopping there on her call. Jesus! I just do not want any nuisance to take place now. I hoped and prayed to almighty.

Emilia Clark I sat still, fidgeting nervously as I waited for my interview with Mrs. Grey. I knew little about her, except that she was the Chairwoman of Grey Enterprises, a multi-billion dollar company previously run by her son, Damien Grey. No one had seen or heard from Damien since he was reportedly involved in an accident two years ago.

Sleep refused to come. Eventually, I gave up. I slipped out of bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen. The house was dark and still. I sat on one of the island stools with a glass of water I hadn’t touched, staring at nothing. My mind kept replaying Luke’s tired face, his denial, and the terrifying possibility that the real threat was still loose. Footsteps sounded behind me. I jumped, nearly knocking the glass over. “Easy,” Christian said. “It’s just me.” I turned on the stool. He stood in the doorway wearing gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt that stretched across his chest. His hair was messy, like he had been dragging his fingers through it for hours. Shadows lingered under his eyes.

Inside the elevator running upwards, Mizu was holding a rectangular card with her profile. The supposed to be named was written as Player 11659, with the data record of her skills and people killed, showed in the pentagon shape on the side, which is 'Zero.' Then a capitalize letter on the topmost indicates the group she's in, the "EAST HOUSE" and her level under her pic, 'Level 1' a beginner. This will change every fight, she will have, after the scanning.

It's just weird how people term this as sexuality. Why are you happy to cause someone immense pain? Is either you're a psychopath or a sadist. And who willingly gives herself to such a freak? Unless you're a masochist. I don't know why, but I imagine Christian Grey as Rodrigo. His facial features fit the description in the book. My attention shifted to the front door when I heard some rustling noise. I kept my book on the sofa and walked towards the door. I peeped through the peephole and saw Rodrigo struggling to open the door.

then spooned a large spoonful of pasta. "Hmmm .... yeeah." I muttered with a mouth full of food. "You owe me. You owe me ..." I looked at him, he spooned the pasta into his mouth, I imitated his movement ... still watching and waiting for the next sentence. "A mind blowing sex ... That overcomes Christian Gray's fantasy madness." Hearing that I almost spat all my mouth. Is he crazy? I am crazy? Or has the world gone mad? What did he say earlier? Chris ... Christian Gray? A male fictional character with crazy sex fantasies?

I’m blushing up to my ears, and I sound like some naïve schoolgirl as I murmur a flustered, “No. I assumed that’s why you didn’t add an address along with your note. You wanted me to call and ask.” For a moment I expect to be told that I got it all wrong, or that I’m living in some fantasy and I need to wake up and smell the damp low-rent apartment air. Christian’s response is one that cools my thoughts down and sets my heart all aflame at the same time, “I’m not letting you slip out of my grasp this time, Lyra Bennett. If tricks are what I need to grab your attention, then this man is willing to use all the tricks in the goddamn book.”

The New York skyline stabbed through the window, all sharp and cold, but the pages weren’t helping. The door creaked open, and there he was—Christian, leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His black t-shirt clung to him, black pants sharp as his gaze. He looked like trouble, the kind that could burn the world down and walk away smirking. But There’s something about Christian people don’t see. They see the scowl, the sharp edges, the darkness he doesn’t bother hiding. But me? I see the quiet peace underneath it. I’ve seen it since the beginning. And no matter how rough he gets, I know this is the man who would tear everything apart just to make sure I’m okay.