Page 159 of My French Love Affair

His grin is pure sin as he moves in close, his breath hot against my ear as he nips lightly at my lobe.

“Then be quiet and let me.”

I swear, my entire body turns to liquid heat.

His fingers slide up a little further, his knuckles brushing against my lace-covered heat, and a choked whimper escapes me. That seems to be enough for him to come back into some sense, and he uses his other hand - the one that’s not tracing the outline of my pussy through my panties - to cover my mouth.

One of my hands grasps tightly to his shoulder as the other clutches at his bicep, attempting to ground myself with the solid muscles that I know lie beneath his shirt.

I’ve already failed, though.

After all, he’s not even inside me yet, and I’m completely undone.

His smirk is pure satisfaction as he watches me lose myself, entirely consumed by lust. He presses firmly against the material of my panties, and I know he’ll be able to feel how hot and wet I am for him through the fabric.

My thighs tense as he drags a knuckle over my swollen clit, the lace brushing against my sensitive skin in a way that has me trembling, and I squeeze my eyes shut, my stomach tensing.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his fingers continue their slow, torturous path over my lace-covered pussy. "So desperate for me already."

I let out a muffled whimper against his palm, my hips rolling. I’m mindlessly chasing the pressure, the friction, theheat, and Frederic hums, pleased as he drags his knuckle over my swollen clit again.

My whole body shakes as my thighs tighten around his hand, helpless against the coil of pleasure building deep in my stomach.

He leans in, pressing his lips just below my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

"I can feel you trembling,mon ange."

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to focus, to fight, to not give in so easily.

But he’s making it impossible.

His fingers shift, hooking under the edge of my panties, finally -finally- sliding the lace aside.

My breath stutters as my body arches up towards him automatically, begging without words.

"Now, now," he tsks, his fingers brushing over my skin ever so slightly. "Patience, Poppy."

I whimper, the frustration making my nails dig firmly into his bicep, but it only makes him chuckle again, pressing a kiss to my jaw.

And then his fingers slide directly over my slick heat.

I jolt, my entire body shuddering as a sharp gasp rips from my throat, though the sound remains muffled by his palm still covering my mouth.

"Shhh," he soothes, his voice thick with amusement, with control. "Unless you want the whole restaurant to hear how desperate you are for me, then you need to keep quiet."

Bastard.

I glare at him through heavy-lidded eyes, but it’s pointless.

He’s smug as anything, no doubt in part because he can feel how wet I am, howreadyI am.

It doesn’t help that my hips won’t stop moving no matter how hard I try to stay still, either.

His fingertips gently trace over the outline of my entire heat, dragging up and down my slit as he lightly coats them with the slick evidence of my desire. My thighs tremble violently as two of his fingers reach my entrance, circling it in slow, devastating movements that have my breath hitching -

And when he finally slides those fingers inside me - stretching me out over his thick digits and curling them just right - I swear that my entire world tilts.

My head tips back as my eyes remain tightly closed, my grip on his shirt tightening as I let out a muffled groan against his palm.

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