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 jaw clenches, his hands flexing against my ribcage as he pulls the fabric down further, exposing my breasts.
"That was an act."
His lips wrap around one of my nipples, his tongue flicking over me as he palms at my other side, and my breath catches in my throat.
Frederic Moreau is always so collected, so unshakable, so infuriatingly composed, and so the thought of him holding back this whole time - the knowledge that he’s been restraining himself -
Fuck.
I rake my nails down his skin. "Then stop acting."
"Hm. You’re trembling," he murmurs, his voice low and knowing as he squeezes my breast.
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. "I wonder why."
His answering chuckle is pure arrogance, and I feel the curve of his smirk as he kisses just below my collarbone.
"Oh, I have a few ideas."
"You like hearing yourself, don’t you?" I tease.
He grins at that. "I like hearing you more.”
His hands slide further down my body, pulling the material of my dress with him until I’m left in nothing at all. I watch through hooded lids as he leans back on his knees and unbuttons his own trousers, pulling them hurriedly down his thick, muscular thighs along with his own underwear before tossing them onto the floor with my dress.
His warm, large hands are everywhere at once, pushing my thighs further apart as he settles between my legs. My breath shudders, my grip tightening in his hair as he lines himself up against me, rocking firmly but slowly against my dripping pussy.
My body is overwhelmed, totally consumed by the feel of him - his weight, his heat, his relentless control.
"You’re fucking ruining me," I whisper, my voice hoarse and breathless, my nails digging into his broad shoulders.
Frederic grips me harder, dragging me closer until there’s not a single inch of space left between us. His thick, hard cock brushes against the outline of my wet core, his head teasing my opening, and I have to fight to keep my eyes from fluttering to a close.
"That’s the idea, mon ange," he growls.
Then, before I can say anything else, before I can even prepare myself for it, he shifts back slightly, using his hand to part me effortlessly, to spread me right open -
And then, he’s inside me.
With a single, smooth thrust that pushes in deep, he enters me completely.
His mouth falls open against my throat, and all I can do is gasp, the walls of my pussy given no choice but to adjust around his rock hard length.
"Fuck," he mutters. "So fucking tight."
I can’t form words, can’t do anything but hold onto him, my nails dragging down his back. He stays still for a beat - letting me feel every inch of him, letting me come undone from just this alone - and then his lips find my ear, his voice ragged and low, dominant and possessive.
"Tell me how good I feel, Poppy."
I can barely breathe, but I respond without hesitation.
"Perfect."
His answering growl is pure sin, and then, he moves.
I let out a sharp cry, my fingers grasping desperately at his broad shoulders while my legs tighten around his waist as he sets a rhythm that is both devastatingly slow and completely wrecking me at the same time.
"That’s it," he murmurs, his thrusts deep and relentless. "You feel fucking perfect around me."
Frederic moves with ruthless precision, every roll of his hips sending a fresh wave of heat crashing through me.
He moves his hands so that they rest against the backs of my thighs and pushes up, pressing my knees high up towards my chest. The slight change in position opens me up impossibly more for him, allowing him to fuck into me even deeper than before, and tears of pure pleasure begin to prick in the corners of my eyes as his pace quickens.
His grip is practically bruising as he holds me exactly where he wants me - pinned firmly beneath him.
His to take.
His to ruin.
I’ve never been fucked like this before. Never so deep, so hard, so rough - but somehow so caring, all at once.
My nails sink into his back, dragging across the taut muscles beneath his skin as each sharp snap of his muscular hips steals the breath from my lungs. His forehead pressing against mine, his body coiled tight with restraint.
"Freddie," I gasp, and he drives into me harder and deeper, seemingly spurred on by the sound of his name falling from my lips.
The air is thick with heat and tension, filled with the sound of our ragged breaths tangling together in the dimly lit room along with the slick, distinct sound of his cock slipping in and out as he pounds into me.
"You’re so fucking perfect," he mutters against my skin.
He sounds as though he’s barely holding on, and I swear that I can feel him everywhere as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge again.