Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
“Did you enjoy today?”
I let out a soft, breathy laugh, tilting my chin up so I can meet his gaze in the dim light.
“I bet on you, didn’t I?” I tease.
He grins, his expression smug, triumphant.
“Smart girl.”
I roll my eyes but snuggle closer, feeling my body sink deeper into the mattress, into him.
A comfortable silence falls between us, only the faint sound of the city outside filling the space, and I drift off with a small smile on my face.
* * *
A soft, lazy hum escapes me as I stir, my body stretching against the cool sheets, the warmth beside me grounding me in a way that makes my stomach flutter.
I blink my eyes open, slowly, adjusting to the soft light filtering through the sheer curtains of Frederic’s suite.
It takes a second for everything to settle back in.
The race. The celebrations. The way we fell into bed, exhausted and exhilarated, tangled in one another.
I turn my head, my gaze landing on the clock on the bedside table.
11:00 a.m.
I groan lightly, pressing my face into the pillow.
"We slept so late."
Beside me, Frederic shifts, his body warm and solid, his arm tightening around my waist as he pulls me closer.
“Mmm,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting against my bare shoulder. “We needed it.”
I barely have a chance to respond before he presses a soft, lingering kiss to my skin.
It’s different from usual.
Not rough, not urgent, not filled with the desperate hunger that usually consumes us.
It’s slow. Deliberate.
And my stomach twists in a way I’m not expecting.
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 my entire 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. I can’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 me feel every inch of him, every single moment of this.
This is so much more than just sex.
It’s…
I don’t let myself name it. I just feel it.
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.
My entire body still thrums with the way he touched me, the way he made love to me so slowly, so intentionally, as if every movement, every kiss, every whispered breath between us meant something.
As if I meant something.
The thought settles heavily in my chest, pressing against my ribs, making it harder to breathe.