Chapter Fifty-Nine
Frederic
A deep, satisfied growl rumbles in my chest as I drink in the sight of Poppy Taylor on her knees before me.
My fingers flexing against my sides, my entire body coiled so fucking tight I might snap as I stare down at her.
She’s breathless, her pupils blown wide, her lips parted as she looks up at me with something dangerous swimming in her dark eyes.
She wants to fight this. Wants to fight me .
But she won’t.
Not really.
I watch her swallow hard, watch the way her hands curl into the fabric of her dress like she needs something to hold onto.
Like she’s barely keeping herself together.
Good .
My hand slides into her hair, gripping just enough at the light strands to make her suck in a breath, just enough to make her pulse flutter at her throat.
"You know, you didn’t have to follow me,” I tell her .
I tighten my grip slightly, watching her eyes darken, her body tense beneath my touch.
"You didn’t have to kneel."
Her lashes flutter as she blinks up at me, lips parting, breath shaky.
Fuck, she’s so beautiful like this. So fucking perfect .
"And yet -" I murmur, my thumb tracing over her bottom lip and dragging it down, my fingers tangling further into her hair, keeping her exactly where I want her. "Here you are."
She lets out a soft, shaky breath, and I can tell she’s trying to hold onto her pride, trying not to break so easily.
But I see the way her thighs press together, the way her fingers twitch against her dress, the way her tongue flicks out just slightly, wetting her lips; and I know that she’s already gone for me.
I press my thumb against her mouth, just at the seam of her lips.
"Say it."
Her breath hitches, her eyes flickering with something wild, something restless. I smirk, tightening my grip just slightly - just enough to remind her that she's mine.
But she shakes her head.
Like that fucking brat that she is, she wants to defy me. She’s desperate to, and she’s still clinging to what little resistance she has left.
Fucking hell - she’s stubborn.
But I like that.
I like that she fights. I like that she pushes me .
It just makes it all the more sweeter when she finally gives in.
"Still fighting me?" I murmur, dragging my thumb slowly over the seam of her lips, feeling the way her breath catches, the way her fingers twitch in her lap.
I can see it - the way her body betrays her, the way she’s already surrendering without saying a single word.
And then, her lips part.
Softly. Tentatively.
And she wraps them around my thumb.
Heat slams into me, sharp and unforgiving, and I know I’ve won.
She keeps her brown eyes on me, watching the way I react as she slowly, softly , sucks on my thumb, dragging her tongue over the pad of it.
My jaw locks. My breath stutters.
Because fuck .
Her tongue flicks over the pad of my thumb, warm and slick and so fucking teasing, and I swear I almost lose it right then and there.
Her eyes stay on mine the whole time. Watching. Waiting.
Testing me.
She knows what she’s doing. She fucking knows .
"That’s my girl."
The words of encouragement fall from my lips without my permission, rough and strained as my free hand curls into a tight fist at my side, every muscle in my body wound too tight.
But then she pulls back just slightly, her plump lips grazing over my skin as she smirks, all slow and wicked and looking far too pleased with herself.
Fuck that.
She might be playing, she might be pushing me, testing me, trying to see just how much power she has here -
But she’s about to find out exactly how little control she actually has.
So before she can speak, before she can do anything , I release my grip on her hair and grab her chin, forcing her to look at me, forcing her to stay exactly where I want her.
"Open."
A single word.
Low and uncompromising. A command, not a suggestion.
She stills, and I watch closely as her breath shudders and her thighs press together.
She hesitates for a beat longer -
And then, finally, she obeys.
Just like I knew she would.
Fuck - I’m hard as a rock already, and I’m determined to make her pay for it.
I force myself to breathe. To stay in control.
But it’s impossible when she’s looking at me like that - doe-eyes wide, pink lips soft and parted, kneeling before me like she was made for this, made for me .
A slow smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, and I know that she’s still playing this damn game.
I hurry to push my pants down my thighs, freeing myself from the confines of my clothing. The second I do, her eyes flick down, and I don’t miss the way she swallows, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips in anticipation.
My cock is thick, heavy, and aching - so hard it’s almost painful - and when I stroke myself once, slow and deliberate, her breath stutters.
"Something caught your attention, mon ange ?"
My voice is hoarse, laced with amusement, and even I can hear the strain beneath it.
She drags her gaze up to mine, feigning innocence.
"Just admiring your… determination ."
I chuckle, shaking my head as I brush my thumb along her jaw, tilting her chin up just slightly.
"That mouth of yours is always getting you into trouble."
"I suppose it is,” she says, feigning thoughtfulness. Then, after a beat, "maybe you should do something about it."
A deep, low growl rumbles in my chest.
Mon ange is playing with fire.
"You want a lesson, sweetheart?" I murmur, my fingers trailing over her cheek, the heat of her skin burning beneath my touch. "Then open that pretty mouth and show me how well you can listen."
For just a fraction of a second, she hesitates.
Not because she doesn’t want to. No. The flush on her cheeks, the way her thighs shift just slightly where she kneels, the anticipation in her wide, dark eyes - they all tell me otherwise.
She hesitates because she likes this.
The teasing. The tension. The unbearable, torturous waiting .
And, fuck, so do I.
Her lashes flutter as she tilts her head ever so slightly, dragging her hands up the tops of her thighs and reaching for mine. The movement is agonisingly slow, and it makes my restraint slip another inch.
Then, finally, she presses her palms down against my thighs and leans in close, parting those perfect lips while looking up at me with the kind of expression that makes my control fray at the edges.
I let out a shaky breath, my hand curling into her blonde hair.
"Good girl.”
She preens at the praise, her smirk just barely hidden beneath her submission as my fingers tighten against her scalp. My grip isn’t enough to hurt her, but it’s enough to remind her exactly who’s in control here.
"You really do have a talent for testing my patience," I tell her. “Now go on, and show me why you’re worth the trouble.”
She makes a soft, pleased noise in the back of her throat, her fingers curling slightly against my thighs -
And then her tongue flicks out, just barely grazing over the sensitive tip, and I swear my entire body locks up.
“ Merde ,” I mutter, my grip tightening in her hair.
She smiles softly, her brown eyes full of mischief as she looks up at me with those innocent, wide eyes.
“Don’t test me, Poppy,” I warn, my voice strained, my restraint hanging by a thread.
Her smirk is nothing short of sinful as she presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the side of my cock.
“Or what? ”
Oh, she’s really trying to push me now.
I tug her head back just slightly, forcing her gaze to lock with mine.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game, mon ange .”
She blinks up at me, all innocence. “Am I?”
I chuckle darkly, dragging my thumb over her bottom lip.
“You fucking know you are.”
And before she can respond, before she can keep up this ridiculous pretense, I push my cock against her lips, urging them open.
She obeys immediately.
Heat licks through me as she takes me in, her mouth hot and soft and perfect as her tongue swirls around me. My head tips back slightly, a groan rumbling deep in my chest as I feel her everywhere .
“Fuck, Poppy…”
She moans around me, hollowing her cheeks as she sinks lower, and I swear I nearly lose it right then and there.
I thread my fingers deeper into her hair, guiding her to take me deeper.
“That’s it, baby,” I praise, my breath ragged, my control slipping with every perfect movement of her mouth. “Just like that.”
She hums in response, her hands tightening on my thighs, her nails digging in slightly. The sensation of her mouth wrapped around me, her tongue teasing and swirling, her throat tightening as she takes more of me - it’s almost too much.
Almost .
But I won’t let it end just yet.
I let out a sharp breath, my grip in her hair shifting, slowing her movements. She lets out a small, impatient whimper, her brows furrowing as she flicks her gaze up to mine.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I smirk, tilting my head, feigning confusion.
She glares at me - her mouth still full of my cock, her brown eyes flashing.
I chuckle darkly at the sight as I move my free hand towards her face, my thumb brushing over the swell of her cheek.
“Now you know how I felt earlier.”
She lets out a low, muffled sound of protest that vibrates over my entire length, and I can’t fight back my groan, my fingers flexing in her hair instinctively as my jaw clenches.
Fucking hell.
I swear I could watch her like this forever - kneeling before me, looking up at me through those thick lashes, her lips stretched around me, her cheeks flushed with exertion and desire.
“Poppy,” I grit out, my voice rough, nearly desperate.
She hums again, dragging her tongue along my length as she pulls back slightly, the sensation nearly sending me over the edge.
“You really are the best kind of trouble, aren’t you?”
She grins around my dick.
And just like that, I lose every ounce of restraint I had left.
I tighten my grip in her hair, guiding her movements exactly how I want, and as soon as I feel her start to match my rhythm, I can’t hold back .
I push deeper - enough to feel her throat constrict around me as she moans.
Fuck. Me.
I brace one hand against the door behind me, my jaw clenched, my entire body strung so goddamn tight I might snap.
She’s good.
Too good.
The way she moves, the way she looks at me like she knows exactly what she’s doing, like she knows exactly how wrecked I am -
It’s fucking lethal .
“Look at you,” I murmur, my voice a deep rasp. “So fucking beautiful. So fucking eager .”
Her tongue presses firmly against me, swirling and stroking and covering me in her saliva as she moves. Her hands grip my thighs, her perfectly manicured nails sink into the fabric of my pants, and when her eyes flick up - wide and completely ruined - I swear I almost come on the spot.
“Fuck, Poppy -”
It takes everything in me to hold back.
My fingers tighten in her hair, tilting her head just enough to make her take me deeper, and she moans around my cock, the vibration sending a violent shudder through my body.
I brace both hands on the back of her head now, keeping her exactly where I want her, letting her feel every inch of me.
“You’re taking me so well,” I groan, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I thrust my hips into her mouth. “Knew you would. ”
She moans again, the sound muffled. Her breath is hot against my skin, and my knees damn near buckling at the feeling.
“Shit,” I pant, my eyes squeezing tight.
I’m close. So close.
But I don’t want this to be over just yet.
I want to drag it out, want to feel her, want to watch her on her knees for as long as I possibly can.
I slow her down all over again, tightening my grip on her hair and pulling back just slightly, forcing her to look up at me.
She lets out a needy, muffled whimper, her brows furrowing in frustration.
“You want it that bad?” I smirk.
She nods, her lips still wrapped around me, her eyes shining with something wicked, something devastating; and fuck. That’s it.
I snap.
I let go.
My hands tighten, my hips thrust forward, and I move harder, faster, deeper.
She gasps around me, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull away.
She takes it all, lets me take her .
Her nails dig in to my thighs, her body pressing into me as she moves in perfect sync, and when she snakes one of her hands between my legs and uses it to cup me there, I lose my fucking mind.
“ Poppy ,” I growl, my breath ragged, my pulse roaring in my ears .
She just hums in response - it’s hardly as though she can do much more, since her mouth is very much full of me - and I feel it everywhere .
I clench my jaw, every muscle in my body coiled so tight I can barely breathe.
“Fuck,” I continue, my voice low and wrecked, my fingers flexing in her hair. “You feel so fucking good.”
Her lips tighten, her movements quicken, her nails dig in harder, and -
My body locks up.
A sharp groan rips from my throat as blinding, white-hot pleasure crashes through me.
I grip her head, my fingers curling deep into her hair as I spill into her mouth, my entire body shuddering with the force of it.
My head tips back against the door, my breath ragged, my skin on fire.
Fuck-ing hell.
For a moment, I can’t move, can’t even think , my body still trembling as I come down.
Then, slowly, I look down.
And I curse .
Poppy is looking up at me through her lashes, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed. She’s damn near swallowed every last drop, though she’s missed a small amount that trickles down her chin -
Oh.
Oh, but then she catches it with her thumb, her brows furrowed slightly as she peeks at the fluid. Her eyes flicker from me, to her thumb, and then back to me again as she raises it to her lips and sucks.
My brain short-circuits, and despite the fact that I’ve just spilled my entire release down the back of her throat, I feel arousal shoot through me again.
Apparently satisfied that she’s teased me to high heaven, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Her tongue flicks out to catch the last of it again, and fuck .
I’m so fucking gone for her.
She tilts her head slightly, a slow, satisfied smirk playing at her lips.
“What do you think?” she asks, her voice husky and smug. “Lesson learned?”
I exhale sharply, shaking my head, my lips twitching into a dangerous grin.
“Oh, mon ange .” I reach down, gripping her chin between my fingers, tilting her face up towards mine. “We’re just getting started.”