Page 235 of My French Love Affair

“What did I say about using your words, Poppy?” I remind her. “Tell me.”

She groans, frustration evident in the sound as her hands fist against the door, her body practically vibrating with need.

“Freddie, I’m not -”

“Tell me, Poppy,” I demand, thrusting my fingers deeper.

The action causes her to cry out and arch further into me, writhing against me as her resolve breaks.

“Please-”

“Pleasewhat?”

Her breathing is ragged, her fingers trembling.

“Please, let me come for you. Let me come all over your fingers.”

My smirk deepens, satisfaction curling hot and sinful inside me.

“That’s my girl.”

And with that, I give her everything.

My fingers move faster and deeper, my thumb circling her clit as my mouth presses against her throat.

I groan as I feel her walls flutter around me - clenching and tightening and pulling me further in - and as I press against her most sensitive spot once more in time with her clit, she finally shatters.

Her cry is sharp as her body tenses. She arches back, shaking as her walls clench and release repeatedly around my fingers.I don’t stay still - no, I keep moving them in and out of her, and her entire body convulses as I drag her through the waves of pleasure until she slumps against me, boneless and panting.

I pull my fingers out of her slowly, letting the last of her pleasure ripple through her, making sure she feels every last second of it.

Then, with a satisfied smirk, I bring my fingers to my mouth and lick them clean.

She watches, her breath still unsteady, her lips parting in undisguised hunger.

I chuckle, tilting her chin up so she’s forced to look at me.

“That,” I tell her, my voice thick with satisfaction, “is what happens when you tease me.”

She’s still catching her breath, her eyes hazy with pleasure, and fuck - she lookswrecked.

Completely and utterly undone.

But has she learned?

I tighten my grip on her waist, keeping her pressed against me and making sure she still feels me - feels what she does to me, what she’s been doing since the second I laid eyes on her outside of that godforsaken airport.

Her lashes flutter, her pupils still blown wide, and then, she smirks.

Fuckingsmirks.

My jaw tightens, and I slide my hand slowly down the front of her thigh before dragging my fingers between her legs.

She gasps, her hands gripping tighter against the door as I press my palm against her still-sensitive heat.

Her body jolts, her hips jerking, but I don’t move away.

Not yet. Not until I’ve reminded her exactly who she belongs to.

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