Page 230 of My French Love Affair

I smirk, running my thumb along her lower lip, watching as her breath hitches.

"You look so pretty like this," I murmur, my voice smooth, dangerous. "On your knees for me. Taking everything I give you."

She blinks up at me, her lips parting just slightly, still waiting for whatever I decide to do next.

Andfuck, does that do something to me.

I lean down, pressing my lips against the corner of her mouth, dragging them slowly along her jaw.

"You think that was enough?" I ask. Her breath shudders. "You think I’m done with you?"

Her throat bobs as she swallows, and I chuckle.

"Stand up," I command.

She blinks, a little dazed, but she listens, rising to her feet, smoothing down the fabric of her dress.

But before she can get too steady, I grip her waist.

And in one swift motion, I spin her around and press her hard against the door, my body flush against hers, my mouth at her ear.

"You want to act like abrat, Poppy?" I murmur, sliding my hand up her thigh, pushing the hem of her dress higher, higher.

She gasps.

"You want totease me?"

My fingers slip between her legs, brushing against the soaked lace of her panties, and I groan, my grip tightening.

"Then I think it’s only fair," I mutter, lips brushing the shell of her ear, "that I make you beg for it."

I press against her harder, my cock already stirring back to life at the feeling of her, the smell of her, the way her body molds against mine so fucking perfectly.

Her hands fly to the door in front of her, bracing herself.

"Freddie -"

"No," I cut her off, gripping her hips and rocking against her just enough to make her whimper. "Not yet."

My fingers trace the curve of her hips, slipping beneath the fabric of her dress, dragging it up inch by inch until it’s bunched around her waist.

She whimpers, shifting against me, but I don’t let her move an inch.

"Bepatient," I tell her, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, "or I’ll have to tie you up and teach you some restraint."

My fingers hook into the waistband of her panties, dragging them slowly down her thighs, taking my sweet fucking time.

Poppy squirms, her breath uneven, her body so responsive beneath my touch.

I drag my lips along her exposed shoulder, taking my time, enjoying the way she trembles against me, the way her hands press against the door like she needs to hold onto something -

Like she knows she’s about to lose control.

My hands slip lower, gripping her thighs, spreading them apart just slightly, just enough to make her ache.

She shifts her weight, her breath shaky as I slide a hand between her thighs.

My fingers brush against her soaked, bare skin, and I can’t help but groan at the evidence of just how much she wants this.

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