Chapter 10
CALLUM
OSSESSIONE - Samurai Jay, Vito Salamanca
Spanish women were something else. Alejandra? She was from another planet entirely.
She wasn’t just gorgeous, she was a fucking force.
Her confidence, her laughter, the way she moved her body with complete control—it wrecked him.
And now, after hours of flirting sitting next to each other, brushing hands during toasts, and exchanging innuendos under their breath, his cock was aching.
Painfully hard just from her proximity. When she touched his arm, smiled at him, whispered some clever line about mythology or fantasy books, he swore he was seconds from coming in his goddamn pants.
She wasn’t just a surfer. He’d been an idiot to even assume that. She was funny, smart, well-read, and so in tune with the world around her it made him feel like he’d lived his whole life behind glass.
But this couldn’t or shouldn’t be about feelings. He couldn’t fall for her. She was always traveling, chasing waves in tropical corners of the world. He had London. Sometimes Wales. His roots were deep. Hers were saltwater and sun.
Still, that didn’t stop the fire burning in his veins when she appeared beside him at sunset, while he was finishing a joint behind the villa, the beach glowing gold in the distance.
“That’s a very bad habit.” Voice light, teasing.
“I had to have some flaws,” he said with a chuckle, taking a slow drag.
“Is that just tobacco?”
“Nope.” He grinned, letting the smoke curl past his lips. A bit of weed. Just enough to take the edge off. But nothing—nothing—could ease the way his body reacted to her.
“Give me some, then.” She stepped closer, lips curving into a smirk. “I’m off-season, tipsy, and apparently, I’ve been invited by a very handsome Welsh man to do whatever I want with him. I think I’ve earned a hit.”
He held it out to her. And when her lips wrapped around it, his cock twitched so hard it hurt.
He stepped into her space, backing her toward the railing that overlooked the beach. Her back hit the wood, and she didn’t flinch. Just looked up at him, all challenge and heat.
“You’re dangerous, Alejandra.”
“Me? I wasn’t the one ambushing in the dark last night.”
“You make me sound like a stalker,” he chuckled, observing as the smoke curled from her lips.
She blinked up at him, smirking, eyes slipping to his lips. “Do you think if we disappeared, anyone would notice?”
That voice. Smoky, sultry, soaked in desire.
“I mean… you are kind of a big deal around here.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I am,” she whispered, the faintest breath of a smile. “But I think I need to take the edge off. Or I might let you fuck me right here.”
He barely managed a breathless “Fuck” before she giggled and said, “Let’s go.”
Alejandra led the way, hips swaying like a damn dream. They snuck into the villa like horny teenagers, dodging family and friends. When they slipped into a bedroom—her room, he assumed—she turned, locked the door behind her, and leaned against it like temptation incarnate.
“Firstly, I want to set the record straight,” she declared, her expression serious. “This is just a one-night stand. If you are searching for a relationship, I don’t think I’m the right fit for you.”
Straight forward. He didn’t expect anything less from her. “One night stand. Nothing more.”
Alejandra nodded. “Good. No contact after this weekend. I—” she hesitated slightly, taking a deep sigh. “I have a USL title and an Olympic medal to win. I can’t be distracted by…” she waved her right hand towards him, still standing a couple of steps away from her.
He cocked an eyebrow. “By?”
“You,” she smirked. “You are very distracting.”
“Then.” Callum stepped closer. “Let me give you a night you won’t ever forget. Maybe the memory will help you relax in those lonely nights before a big final.”
“Pretentious much?”
Definitely. But fake it until you make it, no? He had just one chance to make Alejandra López Romero feel like she had just experienced the best sex of her life, and he wasn’t going to lose it.
“I’m confident,” he replied, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.
Alejandra nodded. “So…Whatever I want?”
He shed his jacket. “Anything.”
“Then do whatever you want to me,” she said, low and breathy. “My body is yours tonight, Callum.”
The way she said his name made his cock twitch. He was already painfully hard, and she had no idea how far gone he was.
He pressed his right hand to the door beside her head and tilted her chin up with two fingers, a silent command.
When he kissed her, she melted into him.
Her hands slid around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer, as if she already knew exactly how she wanted him.
She kissed like she surfed—confident, reckless, and addictive, the kind of kiss that left you breathless and craving more.
He’d dreamt of that kiss all night.
His other hand slipped beneath her dress, gathering the fabric as he traced the curve of her thigh.
Her skin was impossibly soft, warm under his palm, and she smelled like sun and salt and something unmistakably hers.
When his mouth drifted from her lips to her neck, then to the sensitive slope of her shoulder, she shivered, a quiet gasp catching between them.
And when he pressed closer, his arousal hard against her center, she moaned, a raw, needy sound that shot straight through him and set his blood on fire.
“I need you,” she whispered, breathless.
He cupped her neck, eyes locked on hers. “How rough can you take it, Alejandra?”
Eyes gleaming with mischief and want. “As rough as you want.”
Fuck. No one had ever said that to him.
He lifted her easily, her athletic body solid and warm in his arms. She wrapped around him without hesitation as he carried her toward the bed.
His mouth traced her neck, her jaw, then dipped to her collarbone, sucking just hard enough to leave marks behind.
With every step, her dress crept higher, fabric whispering against her skin.
When he laid her down on the mattress, he didn’t pause.
His mouth found her nipple through the thin fabric, sucking, biting, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips.
She arched into him, breath uneven. He pushed the dress up farther, bunching it at her waist, and helping her getting rid of it, revealing lace panties that did nothing to hide how ready she was.
“Are you wet for me, Alejandra?” he growled.
“Definitely.”
He kissed his way down her thigh, teeth grazing her skin in a gentle bite that made her breath hitch.
When his finger traced her through the lace, he felt how wet she already was, the evidence undeniable.
A quiet sound escaped him as he let his forehead fall against her stomach, overwhelmed by her, by the heat of her, by how badly he wanted her.
“Fuck me,” he groaned. “You’re dripping.”
She whimpered when he pulled the underwear aside and tasted her, slow strokes that made her shudder beneath him.
He lingered, learning her, then closed his mouth over her clit, sucking until her breath fractured, until a sharp cry slipped free.
When he bit her—just enough—she gasped, hips lifting helplessly.
His fingers followed, sliding inside her, two at once, and her back arched off the bed, her moans broken and beautiful, just like the night before.
She was a mess.
His new favorite kind of mess.
When he felt her tighten around his fingers, that familiar warning, he pulled back, and stripped out of his clothes. He looked up and caught her staring at him—
No.
Devouring him.
“You can’t be a nerd,” she whispered, stunned. “You look like fucking Superman, Callum.”
Grabbing her hips, he dragged her to the edge of the bed, and she squealed, laughing but opened her legs wide, inviting him in.
“We need a condom,” he breathed.
“Yes. Do you have one?”
Callum nodded, already reaching for his wallet. The condom followed, torn open with ease, rolled on as he settled between her thighs. She stole his breath—black hair fanned across the pillow, bare skin glowing, small breasts rising with each shallow breath, her strong thighs opening for him.
When he pushed into her, he covered her mouth with his hand, his voice low against her ear. “Don’t scream,” he murmured. “They’ll hear us.”
Her eyes widened, definitely aroused by his command, but Alejandra nodded.
“Will you be my good girl, Alejandra?”
She nodded again, helpless and eager. He kissed her hard, claimed her mouth, bit her lip until she gasped for him, and then he pushed all the way in.
God.
So tight. So hot.
Heaven, wrapped around him.
The first thrust knocked the breath from his lungs. He stilled for half a second, just to feel it, just to survive it. “You’re a fucking blessing,” he growled against her mouth, overwhelmed by how good she felt, how right. “And a sin.”
He began to move—hard, deep, controlled at first because he had to be.
Because losing control too soon would ruin everything.
But she didn’t let him stay measured for long.
She clawed at his back, nails biting into his skin, kissed him like she meant to devour him whole.
Her moans spilled into his mouth, like prayers she didn’t know she was saying.
He needed more. Needed her open, tilted, perfect.
He grabbed a pillow and shoved it beneath her hips, angling her just right, watching her body respond instantly.
The louder moan she gave him went straight through his spine.
He wrapped his hand around her neck, holding her there.
Grounding her. Claiming her. Like a necklace. Like something precious.
She looked divine like that. Flushed, undone, offering herself up to him without hesitation.
He threw her legs over his shoulders and thrust harder, deeper, chasing that broken sound she made, chasing the way her body clenched around him like it didn’t want to let go. He could feel her slipping, feel the way her breath stuttered, the way her body started to betray her.
“Oh—madre mía—I think I’m coming!” she cried.
He pulled her fingers into his mouth, sucking them slowly, coating them with his spit while watching the way her lips parted, the way her eyes darkened, already slipping away. He guided her hand down, nudging her fingers where he knew she needed them most.
She didn’t hesitate. She rubbed herself fast and hard, chasing it without shame, her head falling back as her body tightened around him.
The sight of it—of her doing that, using him like this—blew his mind.
He could feel her clench, feel her legs start to tremble, her back arching as she finally broke.
She came hard. The way she pulsed around him dragged a sound from his chest he didn’t recognize. He lost control completely then, rhythm shattering, thrusts turning erratic as he chased the orgasm she was pulling out of him like it already belonged to her. Like he didn’t have a choice.
He came with a groan, deep inside her, every muscle locking as he spilled, trembling through it, spent and wrecked.
When it was over, he collapsed over her, breath ragged, forehead pressed to hers. For a moment, there was nothing else, just heat, shared air, and the echo of what they’d done still buzzing between them.
“You were supposed to be a nerd,” she whispered, dazed.
He kissed her, slow and deep, then trailed his lips to her neck, sucking again.
“You’ll leave a mark,” she said.
“Just a reminder of this amazing one-night stand.”
She smirked. “We could keep going for the rest of the night.”
“You sure?”
She nodded, eyes hooded, lips parted. “I mean, it’s a night. Not one time. I could teach you some of the things I’ve learned in those books you are so determined to not read.”
“Are you sure you want me again?” he asked, already hard, already aching for it, the question more ritual than doubt.
“Yes. Please. Sir.”
He didn’t trust himself to answer. Instead, he bent down and took her nipple into his mouth, biting hard enough to make her gasp, to remind them both exactly where this was going.
Her body reacted instantly, arching, offering, already reaching for more.
Something in his chest tightened. The want.
The reverence. The hunger twisted together until there was no separating them.
And Callum knew, with a certainty that bordered on devotion, that he was ready to worship every inch of her all over again.