Page 173 of My French Love Affair

I break apart.

A sharp, wrecked cry rips from my throat as my body clenches, pleasure crashing over me in waves so intense I swear I feel like I’m coming undone.

And just as before, Frederic doesn’t stop.

Not when my thighs quake, not when my fingers tighten in his hair, not when I sob his name, drowning in ecstasy.

No, he keeps going, pulling out every last drop of pleasure from within. It’s only when I collapse against the bed - boneless and mindless and shaking - that he finally pulls away.

I blink up at the ceiling, my heart still pounding, my body still burning.

I lift my head and find that he’s watching me, his pink lips shining, his blue eyes blown. His expression is wrecked and ravenous all at once, and then, with the most arrogant smirk I’ve ever seen, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You taste fuckingdivine, Poppy.”

I literallysputter, my cheeks burning hot.

He laughs - the sound soft and genuine - and his hands slide up my thighs again like he’s already getting ready for round two.

I sigh happily as his fingers trail lazily up my thighs, his grip firm, his touch possessive. His eyes - still dark with hunger - flick between mine and my open legs, his smirk far too smug as he takes in my wrecked state.

"Frederic," I whisper, my voice still breathless, raw from the sound of my own cries.

"Yes,mon ange?"

"You -" I start, then shake my head, exhaling sharply. "You’re so…"

He arches a brow, amused. "I’m so...what?"

I push up on weak, trembling arms, shifting slightly and attempting to regain control.

His hands don’t move from my thighs. If anything, his grip tightens as he moves to climb over me, his body caging me in completely.

"Tell me," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist, pressing into my skin just enough to make my breath hitch. "Did you really think we were done?"

I blink up at him, the walls of my core already clenching in anticipation.

I shift slightly beneath him, feeling the hard, thick evidence of his arousal pressing against my thigh.

"That’s what I thought," he smirks. "Now, let’s see if you can be a good girl for me one more time."

And just like that, I’m lost all over again.

"You still with me?" he chuckles, and I swallow hard, my hands fisting into the sheets beneath me.

"Yes,” I say through gritted teeth; my body aching and desperate, already responding to him.

His expression is way too smug - like he expected nothing less.

"Good."

His hands trail down my sides, palming my thighs and spreading me open. I shiver as he finds the delicate skin beneath my jaw; kissing, nipping, teasing.

"You’re so fucking beautiful," he mutters, his lips moving lower, his breath hot against my collarbone as his fingers pull the top of my dress down.

The movement exposes more of my skin to the cool air, to the heat of his gaze, and then his mouth follows. My body burns, my mind spins and my world narrows down to just this-

Him, me, and the way he’s setting me on fire all over again.

---