14. Aurélie
Callum held me. Our bodies tangled, sweat mingled, breath beginning where the other’s ended.
I clung to him. He was my lifeline, my soulmate, my other half.
He was still inside me—hard and warm and rooted in our reality—touching every sensitive nerve that lit me up, bringing me closer to the edge each time he thrusted.
I looked up at him through my never-ending tears, and his eyes glittered in the low light of the room.
My heart squeezed as I realized that maybe I was holding him together the same way he was for me.
He sat back on his heels, pulling me with him until I was upright in his lap, my chest against his, his hands spreading wide over my back while mine twisted in his hair.
I gasped from the shift—because fuck, I could feel everything this way.
Every thick inch of him, his piercing, every subtle pulse, the way my vagina clenched around him like my body knew this was our destiny.
This was right where we both belonged.
His cock twitched inside me when I whimpered.
My knees pressed into the mattress on either side of him, thighs quivering from the aftershocks still rolling through me.
Our skin stuck where it met—slick and flushed, a little raw from the scrape of his stubble and the friction of where our bodies kept finding each other.
I nuzzled my face in his neck and gasped against the salt of his skin.
He held me tighter as I moved my hips up and down, then he reached for my hand, unsteady and wrists an angry red from the cuffs, and pressed it to his chest. His heartbeat slammed into my palm.
"You feel that?" he whispered, voice husky and sexy and only for me . "That's yours."
He was so deep I could barely breathe. "You did this," he continued.
"I'm here because of you." The beat under my palm was strong and steady and real.
This was real. He wouldn't say these things if it wasn't. He wouldn't keep showing up for me again and again and again when I was losing myself if it wasn't fucking real.
His hand covered mine, holding it flat to his chest. "You were the last thing I thought of when I blacked out. You were the first thing I wanted when I opened my eyes. Knowing you were there… that's what kept me here . That heartbeat you're feeling? That's yours, mon c?ur. It's always been yours."
I pressed closer, like maybe I could absorb him into me, praying maybe if I held on tight enough, all the jagged parts inside me would find their way back.
I started riding him again. We both moaned.
His hand moved to my chest, resting flat over my heart.
Then he looked down, watching the space where we touched, the way our bodies synced—rhythm against rhythm, breath against breath, pulse against pulse.
His cock hit deeper with every thrust. My walls fluttered around him. My body heard him.
“I love you,” he said, kissing my jaw. “I love you,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to mine.
“Je t’aime. Je t’aime. Je t’aime.” I clenched down so hard I thought we might fuse together, brain melting at how good it felt.
“Two hearts beating as one,” he murmured. “That’s what we are.”
My nails dug into his shoulders, carefully avoiding his bruised flesh.
My hips kept moving. I was wet and needy, slick from everything he’d drawn out of me.
I felt him there— everywhere . The way he held me while I cried, the way his cock hit deeper inside me when I said his name, the way my body unraveled from the truth in his voice.
And when he came—when he groaned my name and kissed me like it was his last breath—I went right over the edge with him, shattered and sacred in his arms.
Because I was home.
And for the first time, I finally believed it.