Chapter 75 Callum
callum
I told myself I just needed sleep, that it wasn’t about him. But when his arm wrapped around me, anchoring me in place, I knew I’d been lying to myself all along. -Aurelie
Aurélie’s soft “Thank you” still echoed in my ears as I guided her into the guest room. She walked ahead of me, her steps hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she belonged in this space. The idea was laughable. Aurélie belonged anywhere she chose to be. Especially here.
“This is… nice,” she said, stopping in the center of the room.
It was decorated in shades of light blue and cream, with a large bed along the back wall.
Her voice carried the same unease I saw in her eyes earlier, but there was something else there too.
Exhaustion, maybe, or the aftermath of laying herself bare.
“It’s not much,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling absurdly nervous.
“But it’s quiet, and you’ll have privacy.
” The guest room suddenly felt too small, her presence filling every corner, her scent lingering in the air.
Lavender and lightly citrusy—it was vibrant, fresh, and so uniquely Aurélie.
She turned, offering me a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “D’accord. Sounds good.”
“I’ll, uh, grab you a toothbrush and a few other things,” I said, retreating toward the door. “There’s bottled water in the refrigerator if you need it. Or tea, if you’re into that.”
Her lips twitched, almost amused. “Tea, huh? I didn’t take you for the herbal type.”
I shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “I have layers, Dubois.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’ll be right back,” I told her, my voice softer than I intended.
“Wait.” Her voice stopped me. “I’d like to shower before bed, if you’ve got…” She looked embarrassed, and I decided not to let her sit in that. Not after the day she’d had.
“Yeah. Don’t go anywhere.”
As I moved down the hall to my room, her words replayed in my head. Everything she’d told me about her ex, her parents, the guilt she carried—it made my blood boil. She deserved so much more than that bastard who pretended to protect her while tearing her down behind the scenes.
When I reached my en-suite, I gripped the edge of the sink and tried to steady my pulse.
I didn’t even know the guy, but I hated him with every fiber of my being.
Part of me wanted to pull out my phone, search her team history, and find out what he looked like.
I wanted to know exactly who he was so I could make damn sure she never had to face him again, but I didn’t.
This wasn’t about my need to fix things for her.
It was about her. If she wanted me to know more, she’d tell me.
For now, I had to focus on being here for her, on proving that not everyone in her life was out to take advantage of her.
I grabbed a toothbrush, toothpaste, shower supplies, and one of my T-shirts.
It was a seemingly small act that I hoped would help her relax for the night.
Halfway down the hall and still trying to will my brain into a different gear, I realized I’d forgotten the extra towel set.
I doubled back, snagging one from the hall closet and heading toward the guest room. I knocked softly.
“Aurélie?” No answer. I opened the door a crack and paused. The bathroom light was on, a soft golden glow filtering through the slightly ajar door. Steam curled into the bedroom like a beckoning finger, hot and slow and so fucking inviting.
I swallowed hard. She was in the shower. If I were a bigger man, I would’ve left the towel and toiletries on the edge of the bed and walked away. I would’ve put an ocean between us for both our sakes. But I didn’t, because I had very little self-control remaining.
I crossed to the bathroom and cleared my throat uselessly. “I brought you some things.” No response, just the rush of the water. The fogged glass glowed, obscuring her body but not the color of her skin.
Then the sliding glass door opened enough for her to poke her head out.
Her soaked hair clung to her cheeks, rivulets running down her neck and collarbone.
“Sorry. Needed to wash the day away,” she said, voice sleepy and low.
Her cheeks were pink from the heat, her lashes wet and clumped, skin bare and flushed. “Couldn’t sleep with it still on.”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think about anything but showering with her in Imola earlier this week. How tight her asshole had been around my finger at the same time her cunt gripped my cock.
I needed to fucking rein it in, but all I could focus on was how radiant and soft she was. Everything I’d ever wanted.
“Can I get…” She paused, smirking when she saw me still standing there, holding the towel and toiletries like a fucking idiot. “Conditioner, too? I know there’s no way a man with hair like yours doesn’t have at least three brands.”
I nodded dumbly and held out the three small bottles I’d brought for her.
She opened the door just a little wider to grab them.
“Merci,” she said sweetly, and then I saw her.
Backlit and perfect, her breasts, the slope of her hip, the curve of her stomach, all slick with water. One second. That’s all it took.
My dick twitched so hard in my pants I nearly dropped the towels. A groan ripped out of me before I could stop it.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath. I’m only a man, for fuck’s sake, I left unsaid.
“Are you okay?” she asked, voice filled with far too much knowing as she turned to set the bottles on the alcove in the shower. I saw everything. The pink of her nipples and the bite marks I’d left on her days ago still faintly visible across her hips, her chest, her stomach.
Pure fucking torture.
“Goddammit.” I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing through the pressure in my chest—and between my legs. “I’m trying to be respectful of your space, but Christ, Aurélie… let me in. Please.”
She tilted her head, contemplating. “Fine. But no touching,” she said. “You said it yourself—not tonight.”
I stripped before she finished the sentence.
She disappeared back into the shower, and I followed as if it was a goddamn siren’s call.
The second I stepped into the steam, it clung to my skin like raw need.
I barely slid the door shut before I finally saw her fully.
Water rolled down her spine, over the curve of her ass, between her thighs.
She didn’t face me right away. Just kept washing her hair, arms raised, body arching like a fucking vision.
I stood frozen, my cock pulsing, barely able to suck in a breath.
Then she turned, and the hazel in her eyes was nearly swallowed by her pupils.
Fucking hell.
“On your knees,” she said, and her sweet little accent made those three words sound dark and commanding.
I dropped like I was born to. All the control I usually had?
Gone, useless, meaningless. I wanted to give it to her, to let her take everything from me and do whatever she pleased.
I kneeled before her like she was something holy.
Water splashed onto my thighs, cool tile beneath me, the weight of her presence above.
She stepped forward, chest rising and falling, the water running between her legs—right where I wanted to be. My mouth was already watering.
Aurélie hummed, tracing a finger down my cheekbone and then under my chin to tip my face up.
“Stay right here and watch.” She turned back to the water, working conditioner into her hair, then washed her body.
Mesmerized, I kept my hands behind my back and watched every drop slide over her skin.
My cock was already aching, hard and leaking against my stomach from the anticipation alone, and she hadn’t even touched me.
“You’re being so good,” she said softly, and the praise had me barreling toward an orgasm that should embarrass me, but only made me want her more.
I groaned again. “Please,” I rasped. “Let me taste you.”
She didn’t answer, just stepped forward and braced one hand on the wall above me, the other resting lightly on my head. “Only your mouth,” she said. “No hands or cock. And you don’t get to come until I do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered, and I knew I would do anything for this woman, be anything for this woman. I wanted to be good for her, wanted to earn her, show her what she deserved.
Her breath caught. I didn’t even wait for another word. I leaned toward her, and she widened her stance. I licked her from bottom to top, slow and thorough, savoring every slick drop that wasn’t water. She gasped, lifting one leg over my shoulder.
I gripped her ass with both hands to keep her steady, water slapping against my back as she rolled her hips into my mouth.
Then I fucking devoured her. I held her thighs, worshiped her clit and pussy with every stroke of my tongue.
The shower sprayed around us, the steam rising, her moans echoing off the tile.
“That’s it, mon c?ur.” She gasped, body shaking in my grip. “Just like that. Such a good boy for me.”
Fuck.
I groaned, and her moans grew louder, sharper. She was soaking me—steam, sweat, her—every inch of me drenched in her. She started riding my face, fucking my mouth, grinding against my tongue like she was made to, and I let her. Controlled her with my tongue while she controlled everything else.
I was drunk on her. Couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop sucking her clit like it was my goddamn oxygen.
She shattered against me with a cry that echoed off the tile, her nails clawing at the wall, fingers tightening in my hair. Her thigh clamped around my head. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I chased every aftershock, tasted every drop.
“Callum.” It was a gasp. A sob. A claim.
And I nearly fucking came.
I pulled back, panting, resting my head against her hip as the water poured over us both. I needed a second. Maybe a goddamn miracle.