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)
His mouth ghosts along my jaw, stubble scratching my skin as he makes a teasing path towards my throat.
"I don’t like it when you lie to me."
I gasp when his lips find my pulse, his teeth scraping lightly before soothing the spot with his tongue.
"You feel that?" he chuckles, pressing his hard length further against me through our layers of clothing. "That's what happens when you play your little games with me. When you tease me. When you bite me like you want to be punished for it."
His grip on my thighs tightens as he rolls his hips harder into mine.
"Is this what you wanted?" he taunts.
I bite the inside of my cheek, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, and he chuckles.
"It is, isn’t it?" he muses. "Is this why you’ve been so difficult? So defiant?"
Despite his demanding tone, he groans softly as he rolls his hips again, drawing out the contact with lazy dominance.
"You’ve been fighting me all this time," he continues, his voice like silk, "but really, mon ange… was it because you wanted this?"
His fingers slip beneath the fabric of my dress, his thumb brushing painfully close to where I need him most as he moves straight towards my panties.
"Is this what you’ve been waiting for?" he teases, pressing a kiss just beneath my ear. "Is this why you’ve been such a fucking brat?"
I inhale sharply, my body betraying me as my hips shift.
"Go on," he coaxes, dragging his teeth over my pulse point. "Be honest, Poppy."
I stiffen at the way my name falls from his lips - low, rough and laced with pure, unfiltered want.
"Did you want me to pin you down and fuck the fight out of you?"
Intense heat floods through me, but I’m not quite sure what turns me on the most - the sound of my name rolling from his tongue, or his filthy words.
My head is spinning as my nails dig into his back, and I swear to god I feel my clit literally pulse.
I still don’t answer, but he knows.
I can feel it in the sinful way he grins against my skin.
"That’s what I thought."
Frederic’s grip on my thighs tightens, his fingers pressing in with a force that borders on proprietorial. His hands shift, pushing my dress higher, his fingers tracing the bare skin of my waist.
“You drive me insane, chérie,” he mutters, his voice rough, almost strained. “All that fucking attitude, and for what?”
A choked gasp escapes my lips before I can even attempt to stop it.
“There she is,” he breathes, pure arrogance as his thumb strokes over my hip. “Finally giving in?”
Flushed and breathless, I glare at him.
"Not a chance."
“You’re so stubborn,” he muses, shifting just enough to bring his face level with mine, his blue eyes burning into me. “But tell me, Poppy…”
His fingers trail lower once more, leaving heat in their wake and causing my hips to buck instinctively.
“Would you really be gripping me like this if you didn’t want it?”
He kisses me again - hungry, bruising, possessive - almost like he’s daring me to pretend this doesn’t mean something. But as his lips work over mine, I force myself to remember who I am - who he is.
This arrogant, insufferable man who has done nothing but torment me since the moment we met.
"I’m starting to think this has been your plan all along, Freddie," I purr, leaning back enough to break our kiss. "All that teasing… was it just to get me under you?"
Frederic growls - a sound deep and primal that vibrates deliciously against my skin - and then suddenly, my wrists are pinned above my head, his grip firm and unyielding.
"Believe me," he murmurs, his tone edged with amusement. "You’ve had my attention since the second you stole my car."
I scoff and shift beneath him, but he doesn't budge.
“And now, I have you exactly where I want you," he adds. "No more running from me, Poppy. No more pretending you don’t want this."
His free hand slides beneath the hem of my dress, fingers teasing the lace of my underwear, but I am not letting him win this easily.
"Who says I'm done pretending?"
Frederic chuckles darkly, his fingers pressing just a little harder against me.
"Me."
His fingers hook into the delicate lace of my underwear, shifting it to the side, and my breath catches.
The warmth of his touch combined with the sheer confidence in his every movement sends a fresh wave of heat rolling through me as the cool air meets my slick, wet core.
He strokes two fingers over me, brushing them repeatedly up and down the length of my slit. I suck in a breath, my legs instinctively opening further around his waist.
"Look at you. All of those protests, and yet you’re still so eager to spread your legs for me.”
I clench my jaw, wanting nothing more than to hold onto my last shred of dignity, to pretend I’m not completely unraveling beneath him; but I know there’s no way I can hold myself together as burning heat courses through me from head to toe.