Page 21 of Filthy Mouth
I stood, uncaring if she saw how hard she made me. The napkin hit the table, and I circled to her side. She tilted her head up, meeting my gaze without flinching.
“You’ll sign both contracts tonight. One for the renovation. One for us. I’ll courier you the apartment plans tomorrow,” I said, holding out my hand.
Her palm slid into mine, warm and sure. She rose, and I didn’t let go.
The six months were just the bait.
Poppy Blythe was already mine.
??????
I watched her fasten her seatbelt, fingers neat and deliberate. She glanced at me once before starting the engine.
Her days were numbered. She’d be in my house soon—how else could she oversee every detail of the project?
I stayed there, tracking the taillights until they disappeared.
Then I turned back inside.
Everything was falling into place exactly how I wanted.
??????
When I woke the next morning, I was smiling. I reached for my phone and picked up right where we’d left off last night. Poppy was braver through text—bolder, filthier. The more she pushed, the harder I’d fuck her.
The tension last night had been thick with anticipation.
Me:Good morning, Princess Poppy. I hope you show Daddy what you’re wearing today.
I dressed and headed to the basement for my workout. Just as I was about to shower, her reply came through—a picture of her perfect arse, half-clad in black French lace. The seam disappeared between her cheeks, the contrast of black against pale skin making her curves stand out even more.
Me:Why don’t I come and pick you up tonight?
I was already thinking about the movers collecting her things.
Poppy:So impatient. How about I meet you in the bar at 5:30?
I smiled. The bar we’d first met in.
Me:See you tonight. Pack for an overnight stay and be prepared to be late for work in the morning.
My mind buzzed as I walked into the shower. I had plans for those lace knickers. Filthy, nasty plans involving Poppy’s mouth.
Chapter 10
Poppy
Time seemed to drag today, but it didn't help that my mind kept wandering off. I’d sold myself for the guaranteed success of my company. The business side of the contracts was straightforward enough, but it was the darker side that made my heart beat faster. After our flirtatious exchange last night, I could admit I needed some fun in my life.
Delphina’s constant disdain for my unladylike behaviour was my trigger. As a child, it had been soul-destroying being constantly compared to Annabelle, my heart was shattered when my father joined in. Two years after my mother died, I lost whatever relationship I’d had with my father. It was a difficult period of adjustment for an eleven-year-old. I was forever grateful for my Nana, without her—I’d have lost myself completely. Grace Winborne had been a tough old bird, and she saw through them all. Her loss had been as painful as losing my mother—the last person in my corner.
I smiled to myself, imagining the horror if my family discovered my entanglement with Benedict. They all loved to look down on me, and it was nice to give them something to be scandalised about.
Benedict Lancaster struck me as the kind of man who would never flinch, no matter what I suggested. Sexually adventurous, unapologetic—and that was dangerously exciting. I couldn’t picture him saying no to anything I wanted to try. He could become addictive if I wasn’t careful. The kind of addiction that ruined you while making you beg for more.
Although this wasn’t a traditional relationship, it had the potential to work alongside our busy work schedules. Benedict was driven and successful. There was much that I could learn from him.
Who was I kidding?
