40. Aurélie
Did he just tell me to run?
My brain stalled, and every rational thought left my body like smoke from a blown engine. I was still panting, trembling, riding the high of the orgasm he just gave me, and now he stood over me, wiping his jaw as if he hadn’t just unraveled me in a public stairwell, and daring me to run ?
My stomach flipped violently as a bolt of adrenaline shot through me so fast I nearly toppled over.
He stood there watching me with those eyes—dark, hungry, full of intent, like if I so much as twitched in the wrong direction, he’d pounce.
I wanted that. God , I wanted that so goddamn bad.
I slowly straightened, leveling him with a stare, and adjusted the hem of my slip.
My thighs were still sticky, my pulse erratic.
I should’ve been heading to my photoshoot, should’ve cared that my hair was slightly mussed and my lipgloss had long since disappeared and smeared on his mouth.
I definitely should’ve thought about how expensive this outfit was or how completely not-sprint-friendly my shoes were.
Except… none of that mattered. Only he did. Our teams could try to keep us apart, but where there’s a will, there’s always a way. And I would find every fucking way to see him that I could.
I glanced down at my kitten heels—a delicate black satin with gold ankle straps and tiny crystal bows that glittered in the stairwell light. They were cute, fashionable, and completely impractical for running.
I looked back up at him through my lashes and smiled. Then I unstrapped the shoes and yanked them off, one by one, and purred, “Hold these.” I tossed them straight at his chest. He caught them with a startled laugh, brows rising.
“Do your worst, champ.” Then I turned on my bare feet, darted around him, and ran .
The warm Spanish air hit me the instant I emerged from the stairwell. It was electrifying and whipped my hair behind me as I darted between the shadows, trying to stay hidden.
My heart thundered in my chest, not from fear but from sheer giddy excitement. It was the kind that lived in your bones and reminded you that you were alive. That, despite all the pressures, it was okay to let go and have a little fun every once in a while.
I stayed in the dewy grass by the chainlink fence that separated us from the track.
My legs pumped as I sprinted past the Luminis service trucks, then down a gravel path that had me wincing from sharp pinpricks on the bottom of my feet.
The path led me toward a quieter, grassy hill behind the general admissions fencing.
It was probably off-limits, but I didn’t care. Callum was bringing the rebel out in me, the one I’d had to stuff down for far too long to make it in this world. I loved that this side of me was back after all this time, that I no longer had to hide myself. He loved me, crazy and all.
My lungs burned, my thighs ached, but all I could focus on was the rush of wind on my exposed skin, the soft sound of my feet on uneven terrain, and the thunder of his footsteps behind me.
He was gaining on me, and I could feel the anticipation growing the closer he got. Just as I crested the hill, giggling breathlessly, arms flung out to brace for the slight incline?—
He tackled me. We went down together in a tumble of limbs and laughter, grass cushioning the fall as his arms wrapped around me and pulled me flush against him. My breath left me in a gasp. His laughter rumbled against my back, hot and wrecked and so Callum, it hurt.
And, of course, like the true gentleman he was, my heels were still in his hand.
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” he panted, pressing a soft kiss behind my ear.
I shivered against him, grinning like a maniac. “You told me to run. You didn’t say how far.”
He rolled me onto my back, straddling me, with one hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my thigh. “I was hoping you’d run,” he growled. “Now I get to decide what happens to you.”
My eyes flicked to his watch. The hands glowed in the night. “You’ve got sixteen minutes, mon amour.”
“Good thing I only need ten.”
He said it so casually that I burst out laughing again—half from adrenaline, half from the high I was still riding from him devouring me in that stairwell.
My legs were still shaking and my whole body felt too compliant, too mushy.
The breeze licked across my flushed skin, the blades of grass tickled my bare calves, and I couldn’t stop smiling up at him.
Callum grinned back, megawatt and boyish and dangerous , and I saw the rare dimple. The one that only showed when he was really, truly happy. The thought had my eyes burning. He was happy with me . He felt this way because of me . And I wondered if he felt the same way I did.
I sighed, dazed and stupidly, madly, wildly in love. “Tu sais que je t’aime, n’est-ce pas?” You know I love you, right?
His gaze softened. “Yeah, baby. I love you too.”
“I missed you.” It was a whisper in the night.
“I know,” he said, brushing a lock of hair from my face. “I could taste it on your pussy.”
I gasped, half-scandalized, half-aroused. “You are a bad influence on me, monsieur.”
He flipped me with a smooth, practiced motion.
I braced myself on my forearms. My slip bunched up around my waist, and my ass was on full display.
I didn’t even care if someone walked by.
The whole world could collapse around us and I wouldn’t know, because when it was just the two of us, nothing else mattered.
“You’re the one who invited me to this little rendezvous,” he teased, his hands caressing my hips before pushing the fabric of my slip higher. “Don’t pretend you didn’t want this.”
I looked at him over my shoulder, watching how his eyes dragged over my body, a smirk curling at my lips. “Do you want to know why I got that tattoo?”
His gaze darkened instantly. “I know why you got it.”
“No,” I said, voice low and wicked. “I mean the real reason.” He stilled, waiting for me to continue. “It’s my favorite position. Face down, ass up. Figured it would be a nice reminder for whoever was behind me.”
Callum choked on a groan, his hands tightening on my hips as he pulled me back to grind his cock against my ass. I moaned and wriggled against him.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You filthy little slut.” He leaned down, breath hot on my ear. “You get off on being chased. You love the risk of getting caught. And you sure as hell know I’d fuck you wherever I find you, consequences be damned.”
Merde . His accent sounded thicker, like he was restraining himself, and it made me want to combust.
“Just fuck me, Callum,” I begged, breathless and delirious with want.
He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight into mine. “Can’t,” he said, checking the sleek black watch on his wrist before tugging on my panties until they fell to my knees. “Not enough time. Right now is all about you.”
“Batard.” I shook my head.
“Hardly. This is me saying I’m proud of you. Thirty under thirty, baby? Most impressive women? You dropped that on me like it was a casual announcement.”
I had done that, hadn’t I? I’d barely had time to process it myself, having only found out the day I was flying to Barcelona.
I bit my lip, even though he couldn’t see me. “So?”
“So, tell me what you want, Auri.”
My voice was breathy, wrecked. “Punish me.”
He groaned, and then— CRACK . His palm landed against my ass, firm and just shy of cruel. I cried out, more surprised than in pain. He rubbed the spot, then spanked me again. And again. Alternating cheeks, fast then slow, until I was moaning into the grass, panting.
“You feel that?” he said between strikes. “How your pussy gets wetter every time I spank you?”
“Yes!” I gasped.
“You’re my little fuck toy.”
“Yours,” I whispered.
“That’s right,” he murmured, and slid his hand over my ass, slipping his fingers down my crack, teasing my entrance, then lower.
I froze, breath catching.
He hummed. “Your pretty cunt is already wrecked,” he murmured. “But this ass?” He squeezed, slow and deliberate while his other hand dipped into my pussy before sliding back up. “This is untouched. And tonight, it’s mine.”
“Callum…”
“Shh,” he soothed, circling my tight rim with a slick finger, coated in my arousal. “Let me play. You’re so worked up, you’ll come just from this.”
And then he pushed in slowly, his finger pressing past the ring of muscle until I gasped, nails digging into the grass, head spinning from the stretch, the pressure, the absolute filth of it all.
“You take it so fucking well,” he said. “Like you were made to be played with. I fucking love it.” I moaned, the sound erotic in the night settling around us. “You want more?” he rasped.
“Oui, s’il te pla?t, mon amour.”
He moved his finger with shallow thrusts, curling just enough to have me trembling in seconds. His other hand worked between my legs again, fingers teasing my clit, pushing me to the edge with filthy precision. He was right—I was going to come from this alone, and it wouldn’t take long.
The pressure was already building, my blood heating.
I was already reeling from my last orgasm, then the thrill of being chased, getting spanked, and now this.
Fuck, maybe exhibitionism was our thing.
The sneaking around, the possibility of anyone seeing us…
it made it all hotter, naughtier, headier.
“Come for me,” Callum ordered in a deep timber that sounded like sex on its own. “Just like this. Full of me. Ruined in public.”
And I did, harder than before. My body convulsed, the pressure from his finger tipping me into an orgasm that made my vision blur. I sobbed his name into the night as he kissed the back of my neck and whispered, “That’s my girl.”