Page 176 of My French Love Affair

"Terrible," he murmurs. "And I’d do it again in a heartbeat."

Chapter Forty-Seven

Poppy

Iwake to the sound of my phone buzzing uncontrollably on the nightstand.

My eyelids feel heavy, my limbs are deliciously sore, and my entire body is thrumming with the lingering aftermath of last night.

But before I can even process it, another buzz vibrates against the wood, followed by another.

I groan, reaching blindly for my phone, my muscles aching in the best way possible. I squint at the screen through sleep-heavy eyes, only to be met with -

Dozens. Of. Messages.

My heart stutters in my chest.

Emma:POPPY. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

Jas:Please confirm you are alive, darling. We are very worried.

Leah:Oh my god - checked her location. She’s at a hotel.

Not just any hotel. She’s at one of the F1 hotels.

Emma:ARE YOU SERIOUS???

Jas:I actually cannot breathe. Poppy, we need details.

Immediately.

Emma:F1 HOTEL, POPPY???

Leah:Is she dead? Is she alive?

Is she currently suffering a heart attack due to an orgasm-induced coma?

I groan loudly, flopping back against the pillows as I scroll through them.

Of course they tracked my location.

And of course theygoogled the fucking hotel.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my mind spinning as fragments of last night flood my senses.

Frederic holding me close after he wrecked me. His lips pressed to my shoulder as I drifted off.

The way he made love to me twice more through the night - slowly,gently, but still with that unshakable dominance, still with that signature possessiveness that drives me insane.

And yet, there was something different in the way he moved. Like he was savouring me, like he was claiming me all over again.

The contrast is driving me crazy, but before I can think on any of it, a deep, familiar voice pulls me from my thoughts.

“You’re awake.”

I blink up in surprise, my head turning towards the now-empty side of the bed.

And there he is.

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