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 is on me.
A sharp, desperate cry escapes my throat at the feel of his lips brushing against my swollen, sensitive clit.
I am completely at his mercy as he points his tongue and flicks it over me, working with a slow, agonising precision.
It’s almost too much. The heat of his mouth, the firm, expert strokes of his tongue, the way he devours me like he’s starving - like this is his favorite thing in the world - and I moan, my fingers tangling into his dark hair as my hips roll instinctively, chasing more, chasing everything.
He presses against my entrance, the combined lubricant of my arousal and him allowing two of his thick digits to slide in with ease. He isn’t careful or gentle as he pushes them in and out of my pussy, his rhythm rapid and relentless, the resulting noise almost obscene.
“You taste so good,” he says, his voice muffled against my skin.
I cry out when he purses his lips around my clit and sucks, hard. My thighs tremble around his head when he repeats the motion again and again and again, my body spiralling into something dangerous as he continues to fuck me with his fingers.
“Freddie,” I pant, breathless, my hands tugging at his hair, my chest heaving. “I’m - fuck, I’m going to - ”
“Then do it,” he commands as his tongue presses exactly where I need it. “Give it all to me, baby.”
I break apart.
A sharp, wrecked cry rips from my throat as my body clenches, pleasure crashing over me in waves so intense I swear I feel like I’m coming undone.
And just as before, Frederic doesn’t stop.
Not when my thighs quake, not when my fingers tighten in his hair, not when I sob his name, drowning in ecstasy.
No, he keeps going, pulling out every last drop of pleasure from within. It’s only when I collapse against the bed - boneless and mindless and shaking - that he finally pulls away.
I blink up at the ceiling, my heart still pounding, my body still burning.
I lift my head and find that he’s watching me, his pink lips shining, his blue eyes blown. His expression is wrecked and ravenous all at once, and then, with the most arrogant smirk I’ve ever seen, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You taste fucking divine, Poppy.”
I literally sputter, my cheeks burning hot.
He laughs - the sound soft and genuine - and his hands slide up my thighs again like he’s already getting ready for round two.
I sigh happily as his fingers trail lazily up my thighs, his grip firm, his touch possessive. His eyes - still dark with hunger - flick between mine and my open legs, his smirk far too smug as he takes in my wrecked state.
"Frederic," I whisper, my voice still breathless, raw from the sound of my own cries.
"Yes, mon ange?"
"You -" I start, then shake my head, exhaling sharply. "You’re so…"
He arches a brow, amused. "I’m so... what?"
I push up on weak, trembling arms, shifting slightly and attempting to regain control.
His hands don’t move from my thighs. If anything, his grip tightens as he moves to climb over me, his body caging me in completely.
"Tell me," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist, pressing into my skin just enough to make my breath hitch. "Did you really think we were done?"
I blink up at him, the walls of my core already clenching in anticipation.
I shift slightly beneath him, feeling the hard, thick evidence of his arousal pressing against my thigh.
"That’s what I thought," he smirks. "Now, let’s see if you can be a good girl for me one more time."
And just like that, I’m lost all over again.
"You still with me?" he chuckles, and I swallow hard, my hands fisting into the sheets beneath me.
"Yes,” I say through gritted teeth; my body aching and desperate, already responding to him.
His expression is way too smug - like he expected nothing less.
"Good."
His hands trail down my sides, palming my thighs and spreading me open. I shiver as he finds the delicate skin beneath my jaw; kissing, nipping, teasing.
"You’re so fucking beautiful," he mutters, his lips moving lower, his breath hot against my collarbone as his fingers pull the top of my dress down.
The movement exposes more of my skin to the cool air, to the heat of his gaze, and then his mouth follows. My body burns, my mind spins and my world narrows down to just this -
Him, me, and the way he’s setting me on fire all over again.
"You have no idea," he murmurs, "how hard it was to sit through dinner, watching you in this dress, knowing I couldn’t have you until later."
I bite my lip, my fingers trailing down his back. "You seemed pretty in control to me."