Page 261 of My French Love Affair

I turn my head slightly, my heart stuttering as he moves above me, rolling his body over mine and pressing me deeper into the soft mattress as his weight settles between my thighs.

He’s watching me - his blue eyes dark and searching, something unreadable flickering beneath the surface. His fingers trail over my jaw, then down my throat, a featherlight touch that sends a shiver rippling through me.

I open my mouth to say something - maybe tease him, maybe tell him he’s acting unusually soft this morning - but then he kisses me.

And just like that, I lose the ability to speak.

It’s deep, slow, and utterly devastating.

Not just a kiss, but something more. Something that has myentire body melting into him, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

Frederic groans softly, his body shifting as he rolls his hips in a deep, lazy stroke that has my entire world spinning.

“Oh,” I gasp against his lips, my thighs instinctively tightening around his hips as he slides inside.

His answering smirk is soft but knowing, his breath mingling with mine.

“Feel good,mon ange?”

I don’t answer. Ican’t.

All I can do is cling to him, lost in the slow, sensual rhythm he sets, every deep stroke unravelling me, pulling me apart piece by piece.

His forehead presses against mine, his lips brushing my jaw, my cheek, my temple. His hands roam over my body, skimming my sides, gripping my hips, holding me like I’m something precious.

It’s overwhelming. Almost too much.

My nails rake lightly down his back, and he shudders, groaning against my lips. He buries his face in my neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to my pulse, his breath uneven.

“You drive me crazy,chérie.”

His pace remains steady, taking his time with each roll of his hips - like he has all the time in the world, like he’s trying to make mefeelevery inch of him, every single moment of this.

This issomuch more than just sex.

It’s…

I don’t let myself name it. I justfeelit.

And the way he moves, the way he touches me, the way he holds me as I fall apart beneath him, as I cry out his name against his lips - I know he feels it too.

And after, when the last waves of pleasure fade, when my breath is still unsteady and my body is still trembling from the intensity of it all, he doesn’t let me go.

Instead, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, holding me close.

And for the first time, I let him.

* * *

I wake to warmth.

To steady, rhythmic breathing.

To the heavy weight of Frederic’s arm draped across my waist, his fingers curled loosely around my hip, holding me against him even in sleep.

I blink slowly, adjusting to the early afternoon light filtering through the curtains, the soft, muted glow illuminating the suite in a way that makes everything feel dreamlike.

For a moment, I let myself stay here. Wrapped up in him, in this moment, in the lingering heat between us from last night - and this morning.

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