Page 231 of My French Love Affair

"Fuck," I hiss. "Already so wet for me."

I inhale the scent of her - the sweetness, the heat, the desperation - and her fingers tighten against the door.

"You were made for this," I whisper.

Then, without warning, I thrust my fingers deep inside her.

She cries out, her back arching, her body jerking against meas my other hand pins her waist to the door.

"That’s it," I murmur, thrusting again, harder and deeper.

I watch closely at the way her body moves; the way she gasps, the way her thighs tremble beneath my touch.

"You wanted to tease me, didn’t you?"

Her forehead presses against the cool surface of the door, her nails scraping against it.

I chuckle darkly at the sight of her crumbling like this.

I curl my fingers inside her just the way that she likes, finding that perfect fucking spot and pressing into it with ease, repeating the motion again and again and again.

"Freddie, I -"

"Ah, ah," I say, pressing my lips against her ear. "That’s not what I want to hear."

Her body tenses, her thighs clenching around my hand, and I feel tremors coursing through her, feel how she’s so close to the edge -

But I stop.

My fingers still, and she gasps.

My body is pressed so hard against her that I know she can feel every inch of me, every fucking ounce of my restraint, but I have to see her.

"Freddie-"

I pull back slightly and grip her chin, forcing her to look at me over her shoulder, and she quiets immediately.

I drink her in, my eyes greedy as they dance over her pretty face. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted and her pupils blown wide with desire.

Fuck.

I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.

"You don’t get to come yet,mon ange," I murmur, my grip tightening. "Not until you beg for it."

She shudders, and I raise a brow.

"Be a good girl, and ask me nicely."

Her breath is uneven, her body trembling beneath my hands.

I watch her, taking in every little detail - the tension in her jaw, the way her chest rises and falls too quickly, the way her fingers twitch against the door like she’s fighting herself.

I can see it. The struggle.

She’s stubborn.Proud, even. And she doesn’t want to give in.

But she will.

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