25. Aurélie #3
Callum’s hand left my throat to grab the lube, and I turned to look over my shoulder so I could watch him drizzle it over himself and stroke it in slow, deliberate pumps until it gleamed in the candlelight.
My breath snagged when he shifted me forward on his lap, spreading my cheeks with one hand so he could drizzle more down my crack.
The liquid slid over my rim, cool at first, then warming, making me shiver and clench.
It felt different than the lube he used for the plug.
“Good girl,” he rasped, dragging the head of his cock through the mess until I was coated in it. “I want you dripping for me before I even push inside.”
I faced forward again, hands scrambling for something, anything, and found his thighs. I dug in hard, nails scoring the muscle until I felt him twitch beneath me. His groan rattled my bones, his chest a furnace at my back.
Only then did he reach for the vibrator, click it on, and press it to my clit. White-hot lightning bolted through me, my hips jerking helplessly.
“Shh,” he soothed darkly, his free hand sliding back to my throat, thumb pressed to my pulse point. “Take your time. Inch by inch, mon c?ur. I want you to feel every second I bury myself inside you.”
The vibration against my clit made me slicker, wetter, my body betraying me with how badly I wanted this.
Slowly, carefully, with a hand steadied on my hip, I lowered myself down.
And then I felt the cold kiss of metal. His piercing nudged against my rim first, obscene and electrifying, sending a shock straight through me.
Every nerve ending screamed at once, the mix of sharp steel and heated flesh making me shudder violently.
Then the blunt head breached me, the pressure so sharp I gasped and clawed harder at his thighs, eyes glued to the mirror.
“Breathe,” Callum whispered against my ear, hand leaving my hip to grip my throat, keeping me tethered. “Relax. Watch yourself take me. Every inch.”
The head of his cock pressed harder, piercing and all, and then— holy fuck —my body gave way. The tip pushed all the way inside, stretching me wider than anything ever had, the sting sharp and searing. My cry echoed off the walls, high and helpless, my whole body locking up.
“Easy,” Callum growled, the sound breaking in his chest like gravel. His hand at my throat didn’t squeeze, didn’t restrain—just held, steady and grounding. “Breathe for me. That’s all. Just breathe.”
I followed his command, sucking in air like my life depending on it.
I tried to breathe around the intensity, the discomfort, the pain .
The vibrator hummed mercilessly against my clit, teasing me, tormenting me, coaxing my muscles to loosen even as the burn spread deeper.
I was shaking, torn between the pain of the stretch and the white-hot pleasure sparking low in my belly.
My arousal coated our thighs, dripping messily, humiliatingly, but it was so fucking hot.
I inhaled sharply, hips shifting, and he tightened his grip on my waist to keep me from bolting.
“That’s it. Take it slow, mon c?ur. Just a wee bit at a time.
” His lips brushed the shell of my ear, his voice nothing but ruin and reverence.
Oh Christ, take me now. I knew he was starting to lose it if his Scottish slang was slipping through.
“You’re doing so good, opening for me. Perfect little ass swallowing me whole. God, I love you, Aurélie.” This was the thickest I’d ever heard his accent. It was almost unintelligible, and yet so fucking sexy that I shivered and felt my orgasm start to crest.
Another inch slid in, the burn flaring again, and I wailed, my nails digging deeper into his thighs. His groan tore free, sharp and raw, his head falling back against the chair. His jaw slackened, eyes squeezed shut, then rolled back as though he’d lost control completely.
Watching him unravel—watching Callum Fraser, the man I’d idolized for a decade, come undone because of me —lit a fire in my veins. I shifted, bracing, and sank another inch down, his cock splitting me wider. I could feel his piercing now, dragging along my inner walls, branding me from the inside.
Sanctifying me , as he promised earlier.
“Baby,” I whispered, voice ragged, praise spilling out without thought. “So full— fuck —you feel so good.”
His reaction was immediate and savage. A guttural noise ripped from his chest, his body pitching forward so his chest pressed into my back, his teeth sinking hard into the curve of my shoulder.
I yelped, the sharp sting sending sparks straight to my clit, bringing me closer to the edge, and his grip on my throat tightened.
“Fuck,” he whimpered against my skin, his voice wrecked.
He fucking whimpered. “You know what that does to me, when you call me baby. Christ, Aurélie.” His breath was hot, his bite turning into a kiss as if he couldn’t decide whether to devour me or worship me.
My toes curled until the tops of them were pressed into the carpet.
The vibrator pulsed, my body loosened, and I let gravity take me. My thighs shook violently as I slid the rest of the way down, inch after devastating inch, until my ass met his thighs and he was buried inside me to the hilt.
The fullness was dizzying, overwhelming, a tidal wave of pressure and pleasure that left me panting at my reflection in the mirror. My lips trembled, my eyes wild, my body quaking around him as I tried to process the impossible sensation of having him so deep, so everywhere.
And behind me, Callum looked just as destroyed–eyes glazed, hair damp with sweat, his mouth open like he couldn’t catch enough air. His fingers flexed against my throat, like if he let go, I’d slip right through his grasp.
“Mine,” he ground out, his voice nothing but frayed edges and devotion. “All of you is all fucking mine .”