Page 112 of My French Love Affair

“You’re mine now.”

His words settle over me like a brand, sinking into my skin, my bones, my very being.

You’re mine now.

I want to fight him on it. I want to throw something sharp and cutting right back in his face, just to prove that he can’t have all of me so easily; but then he hits that sweet spot right inside, and all rational thought shatters.

A choked moan escapes my lips before I can stop it, and I feelhis smirk against my skin, his mouth trailing over my jaw, my throat, my collarbone.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his gaze locked onto mine. “Take it,mon ange. Take all of me.”

I clutch at him desperately, my body instinctively arching against his, desperate for more.

“Freddie-”

He groans at the sound of his name on my lips, his pace faltering for half a second before he recovers, gripping my hip with a bruising force and fucking me deeper, harder,faster.

“You should have let me have you sooner,” he pants, each word punctuated by another hard thrust that sends pleasure coiling deep in my stomach. “We could have saved ourselves so much time.”

I let out a breathless, wrecked laugh.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t jump to spread my legs the moment you tried to steal my taxi.”

Frederic chuckles darkly, his hand slipping between our bodies, his fingers sliding over my swollen, pulsating clit. I’m still sensitive from my orgasm, and I gasp, my head tilting back against the couch as pleasure bolts through me.

“You can pretend all you want, but I think we both know -” he says as his fingers press down, sending a sharp burst of ecstasy racing through my body, “- you would have saved yourself a lot of frustration.”

I could kill him. I really could.

But I’m too busy falling apart for him to care.

“Fuck,Freddie.”

My voice breaks, my nails sinking into his skin, my body tightening around him.

And then hereallygives it to me.

His pace turnsruthless, his control snapping as he drives his cock impossibly further into me, his breath ragged, his lips dragging over my skin like he can’t get enough.

The combination of his cock slamming in and out of my wet heat and the glorious sensation of his fingers circling, squeezing and pinching at my swollen clit is almost too much. My thighs tremble around his waist as heat burns through my lower body, and his name rolls repeatedly from my tongue.

“Oh my - fuck,Freddie-”

He doesn’t slow his thrusts, and with a final firm press of his fingers over my clit, I convulse around him again; waves of pleasure ripping through me so fiercely that I forget how to breathe.

Frederic groans deeply at the feeling of my walls clenching around him, and the sound goes straight to my throbbing clit. His grip on my hips and my hair tightens as he fucks into me with impossibly more enthusiasm, spurred on by my second orgasm.

I’m still high and riding through my own release as his pace begins to falter and his thrusts begin to stutter, and then hefinallypresses himself as deep inside as he possibly can, his whole body shuddering as I milk him for all that he’s worth.

For a long, breathless moment, neither of us move. The only sound is our heavy breathing, the distant thrum of music from the party outside, and the chaotic pounding of my own heart.

Then -

“Merde.”

His voice is hoarse, his forehead pressing into my shoulder as he gathers himself.

"Told you you’d stop fighting me eventually."

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