36. Callum
There were mornings before her. I knew there were—obviously. I just… didn’t remember a single fucking one. And there were never, ever, ever mornings with other women.
The world outside was quiet, but inside me, everything was chaos, because she was here, in my bed, in my life. I was completely wrecked by her.
Aurélie lay tangled in the bedding, her golden hair a mess across my pillow, her body exposed just enough to see the top swell of her breast, the imprint of my teeth far from faded.
I carefully pulled the covers away so I could look at her body.
I would never get enough of it. She was on her back, and her thighs were parted slightly, one leg cocked just enough for me to see where I’d slid into her last night—where I’d lost my fucking mind inside her.
I was rock fucking hard as I stared at her like I was trying to memorize the way her pretty pink pussy looking in the morning light.
I think the sight of her would anchor me when the world spun too fast. I hadn’t touched her yet, but my body ached like I had.
Every nerve, every muscle, every thought was hers —heart, mind, body, and soul.
I shifted onto my side, unable to stop myself. I pressed my nose to her neck andbreathed her in, slow and deep. My lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Wake up, mon amour.”
She stirred, her face turning to nuzzle mine, and I melted. Then, in a sleepy, barely-there mumble, she whispered,“Je veux rester ici pour toujours…”
My brows furrowed as I kissed her cheek. “What did you just say?”
She didn’t answer. Her breathing evened out again, already slipping back into sleep. I whispered the words again under my breath. “Je veux… rester ici… pour toujours.” I didn’t speak perfect French, but saying it back, I knew what she said.
I want to stay here forever.
Be still, my fucking heart.
I pressed my forehead to hers and let the ache wash over me.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Me too, love.” I tucked one arm under her head to wrap around her shoulders, and the other draped over her waist as we settled under the covers once more, curling around her as if that could somehow make time stop for a little longer.
Her skin was smooth against me, and it took every ounce of willpower not to thrust my hips against her ass.
She gave a small, sleepy hum. “You’re warm,” she whispered, wiggling her ass into me and making my dick jump in response.
“You’re awake,” I muttered, unable to stop myself from running my hands over her.
“Mmm, I am now,” she said in that low, primal rasp I didn’t recognize as anything but hers.
“Good.” My voice cracked. She turned her head toward me, and I saw her face, all soft and feminine and unguarded. My chest splintered.
“I’ve got a flight to catch in a few hours,” she told me on a yawn, covering her mouth.
My heart clenched. I knew what that meant: we’d be apart again, hopefully staying in the same hotel, but different call times and pretending we were nothing more than rivals with good PR chemistry.
“I hate that,” I muttered, voice low as I kissed her jaw. “Hate knowing you’re leaving this bed. Leaving me.”
Her hand slid into my hair, fingers threading through it. “I’ll see you in Barcelona, like, tomorrow.”
“It’s not soon enough.” I kissed her slowly, slipping my tongue into her mouth. She made the quietest little noise in the back of her throat before I pulled back to press a kiss to the pulse point under her ear, then again along her collarbone. “Just fly with me on my jet to Barcelona.”
She shivered. “You’re obsessed.”
“Fuck yeah, I am.” My hand slid around her throat,fingers splayed, not tight—just a reminder of who she belonged to—but I’d squeeze harder if she wanted me to. I knew she fucking loved that.“You’re mine, Aurélie. And I lose my fucking mind every time I look at you.”
She lifted her leg to rest it over my hip.
I nearly lost it.
Her thigh pressed against me, bare and warm, her skin still marked from the night before—faint bruises from where I’d held her too tight, scratched from the wall, bite marks I couldn’t bring myself to regret.
My cock throbbed between us, and she tilted her hips just slightly, grinding and searching for me.
“You’re playing with fire, mon amour,” I whispered against her shoulder.
“Maybe I want to burn.”
I groaned, sliding my hand down the back of her thigh, gripping hard as I ground against her heat. “You like that?” I whispered. “Knowing you’ve got me by the throat, too?”
She nodded, breathless, and I squeezed just enough to make her eyes flutter.
I didn’t slide inside her right away. I nuzzled . I worshipped . I kissed her shoulder like it was sacred. My hand trailed down to her waist, her hips, gripping tight.
“I want to ruin you slowly,” I rasped. “Make you miss your meetings. Make you call your team and say you’re too fucking sore to walk.”
“Callum—”
“Shh,” I whispered, kissing her again. “Let me feel you one more time. Let me make you shake before you go.”
She reached for me, and that was all I needed. I pulled her flush against me, curled behind her, and slid into her from the side with a low groan.
“Fuck—baby, you feel like heaven.” She gasped when I bottomed out, and I stilled, holding her neck, kissing her shoulder again. “You were made in heaven, made for me. I’ll never get enough of this, of you. You hear me?” She nodded, face pressing back into the pillow. “Use your words, Aurélie.”
“I hear you.”
“Good girl.”
I rocked into her slowly, kissing the back of her neck, hand still on her throat, palm flat against her pulse. Her body welcomed me as if it already missed me. Each drag, each thrust, each soft grunt against her skin made her melt. I could feel her unraveling again.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to let you go after this,” I whispered, voice cracked and breaking. “I can’t. I fucking can’t.”
“You don’t have to,” she said, and the sound of it undid me. The orgasm hit like a wave, hers first, her body trembling. I followed with a groan, holding her against me like she might slip through my fingers. When it was over, I stayed inside her and refused to move.
“Callum,” she whispered, “we have to get up.”
I shook my head, nose brushing her neck. “No. Just… one more minute.”
She laughed softly. “You said that fifteen minutes ago.”
“I meant it then too.” I kissed her shoulder again and closed my eyes.
Because the world could burn, and I’d still come back here—to this.
To her.
Always.