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)
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."
Chapter Forty-Seven
Poppy
I wake to the sound of my phone buzzing uncontrollably on the nightstand.
My eyelids feel heavy, my limbs are deliciously sore, and my entire body is thrumming with the lingering aftermath of last night.
But before I can even process it, another buzz vibrates against the wood, followed by another.
I groan, reaching blindly for my phone, my muscles aching in the best way possible. I squint at the screen through sleep-heavy eyes, only to be met with -
Dozens. Of. Messages.
My heart stutters in my chest.
Emma: POPPY. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?
Jas: Please confirm you are alive, darling. We are very worried.
Leah: Oh my god - checked her location. She’s at a hotel.
Not just any hotel. She’s at one of the F1 hotels.
Emma: ARE YOU SERIOUS???
Jas: I actually cannot breathe. Poppy, we need details.
Immediately.
Emma: F1 HOTEL, POPPY???
Leah: Is she dead? Is she alive?
Is she currently suffering a heart attack due to an orgasm-induced coma?
I groan loudly, flopping back against the pillows as I scroll through them.
Of course they tracked my location.
And of course they googled the fucking hotel.
I squeeze my eyes shut, my mind spinning as fragments of last night flood my senses.
Frederic holding me close after he wrecked me. His lips pressed to my shoulder as I drifted off.
The way he made love to me twice more through the night - slowly, gently, but still with that unshakable dominance, still with that signature possessiveness that drives me insane.
And yet, there was something different in the way he moved. Like he was savouring me, like he was claiming me all over again.
The contrast is driving me crazy, but before I can think on any of it, a deep, familiar voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“You’re awake.”
I blink up in surprise, my head turning towards the now-empty side of the bed.
And there he is.
Standing in the doorway, looking devastatingly good in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hang sinfully low on his hips.
His hair is messy, jaw still very freshly shaven, and I can’t form a response before he’s already moving towards me.
I don’t know how I missed the large tray that he was carrying - clearly, my brain is just not with it this morning - and I watch as he places it carefully down on the bedside table closest to me before leaning down, his lips brushing mine in a soft, slow morning kiss.