Chapter Forty-Six
Poppy
F rederic’s lips trail lower, hot and insistent, sending shivers across my overheated skin as he moves down my body.
His hands, firm and unyielding, slide up my thighs, fingers spreading as he parts me wider, his grip possessive.
The warmth of his breath ghosts over me as his hands flex, his thumbs dragging slow circles against my inner thighs. My stomach tightens in anticipation, my hips lifting in a silent, desperate plea; but Frederic just hums in response, his mouth hovering just above where I need him most.
“Patience, mon ange ,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement and sin. “There’s no rush this evening. I’m going to take my time with you.”
I fight the overwhelming urge to close my thighs around his head and pull him closer.
“Freddie,” I plead, my voice barely a whisper.
His fingers dig into my thighs, and then - before I can brace myself, before I have to beg again - he gives in.
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."
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.
My thighs tremble as he continues to push them upwards while thrusting deeply, and I take it all, take everything that he’s willing to give me.
His mouth is on me again, all clumsy and hot and demanding as his tongue slides over mine. One of his hands trails from the back of my thigh towards the apex of my thighs, two fingers sliding around my over-sensitive clit -
And oh .
The pleasure hits me like a tidal wave as he squeezes at my clit, and my head snaps back against the pillows, my back arching as I cry out, my entire body shattering as I come undone beneath him.
"That’s it," he murmurs against my jaw, his voice thick with praise, with possession. "Be a good girl and come for me. Give me everything. Let me have it."
I fall apart for him in time with his words of encouragement, my fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders, at his hair, at anything to anchor me back to reality. My body tightens as pleasure spills through me, my walls milking tightly around his cock, and his resulting moan is pure, unfiltered hunger.
Apparently satisfied that I’ve come for him - again - his pace snaps into something more desperate, something wrecked .
" Fuck ," he grits out, his control slipping as his thrusts become harder, faster, messier.
I feel him tremble, his strong muscles tightening and his breath ragged against my throat as he drives into me. Each snap of his hips drills him deeper and deeper until he finally buries himself to the hilt and a deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest as he finds his own release.
His body shudders against mine as he spills himself inside me, completely undone.
For a moment, the only sound in the room is our laboured breathing and our hearts pounding in sync.
And then Frederic stills, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath warm and his grip still firm - almost as if he’s not ready to let go just yet.
Slowly - ever so slowly - his fingers trail down my side, smoothing over my damp skin, grounding me as we both come back down to reality.
" Merde ," he mutters against my temple, his voice hoarse, wrecked, his lips brushing over my heated skin. “You are so fucking perfect.”
I let out a breathless, satisfied laugh, my eyes fluttering open to meet his.
"Still think this was a bad idea?" I murmur, teasing.
His grin is lazy, satisfied, devastatingly smug as he leans down, brushing a slow, lingering kiss against my lips.
"Terrible," he murmurs. "And I’d do it again in a heartbeat."