Page 155 of My French Love Affair

And then, slowly -deliberately- I swipe my tongue over my lower lip.

Frederic drops the spoon onto the table with a quietclink, his voice low and commanding when he speaks.

"Come here.”

Chapter Forty-Three

Poppy

"Come here.”

I obey immediately.

I don’t think. I don’t hesitate.

At the sound of his voice - low, firm and completely in control - my body moves on pure instinct, shifting in the booth and sliding towards him.

But before I can reach him fully,hecloses the gap, his hand curling around my waist and pulling me the last of the way until I’m nestled comfortably against his side.

But he doesn’t kiss me. Not yet.

Instead, Fredericstudiesme.

He raises a hand, his fingers brushing featherlight against my jaw, his thumb skimming over the edge of my cheekbone with a touch so gentle that it makes my stomach flip.

His blue eyes flicker over my face, drinking me in, something unreadable in his expression. Almost…soft.

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry, and my tongue instinctively flicks out to wet my lips.

And just like that, his entire expression changes.

The softness disappears as his grip on my jaw tightens ever so slightly, and his gaze darkens; that slow, consuming heat rolling back into his eyes like a storm.

My breath shudders, and then his mouth crashes onto mine.

His lips move against mine with purpose, with that same intensity I should have expected but still feel down to my very core. My hands fly to his chest, pressing against the crisp fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath.

But it’s not enough.

I needmore.

My fingers trail up, over his shoulders and around the back of his neck as I arch into him, pressing as close as I can, frustrated by the booth, by the space, by the fact that I can’t just have him the way I want to.

His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair as he deepens the kiss, as his other hand grips my hip, keeping me locked against him, right where he wants me.

It’s intoxicating, dizzying,maddening- and Ineverwant him to stop.

Frederic doesn’t break the kiss as his grip on my waist tightens. Instead, with zero effort, he shifts, adjusting his hold on me; and before I can even process what’s happening, he pulls me onto his lap.

I move with him eagerly, my knees pressing into the booth as I straddle him, my dress hiking up over my thighs on account of the change in position. His hands immediately slide lower, gripping my hips and guiding me into him.

Andfuck.

I canfeelhim, hard and insistent beneath me.

Heat floods my body, my stomach flipping wildly as I instinctively shift closer.

A low growl rumbles from deep within his chest as his fingers dig into my waist, stilling me instantly.

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