Chapter 91 Callum
callum
We belonged to each other. Toujours. -Aurelie
By the time we reached the flat, we weren’t even pretending to keep our hands off each other.
Aurélie was already tugging at my race suit, half-unzipped, her fingers shaky but determined. I kicked the door shut behind us, dropped both of our bags, and kissed her like she was the only thing I needed to survive. Because she was.
We fumbled through the hallway, bumping into walls and laughing between gasps.
Every time I got a hand on her, she melted into it—needy, bold, perfect.
Fingers in hair and lips clashing and hearts pounding.
She yanked my fireproofs over my head, and I gripped her hips, pulling her against me as I pushed her race suit over her thighs.
The trail of our clothes marked the path we took. One by one, we peeled away everything that wasn’t us.
We barely made it to the bathroom before I turned her around and backed her into the counter. Her hands grasped the edge behind her, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Her braids were gone. Her lips were kiss-swollen. And her neck…
My eyes caught on the fresh mark I’d left there earlier right after the podium. It was dark, just above her pulse point, and something in me broke. I’d put that there—and fuck if it didn’t make my stomach flip with pride and lust and something more dangerous than love.
“You feel that all night?” I rasped, brushing my thumb over the bruise.
She nodded, breath catching. “Made me think of you.”
“Fuck,” I whispered. “You have no idea what that does to me.”
I kissed it. Then I looked up and saw her watching me like I held her whole world in my hands. I wanted to. I wanted that world.
But then I saw the other mark on the other side of her neck, just below her ear. The trickle of blood stopped at her collarbone, but was dried now. The cut wasn’t deep, just a shallow scrape, but it was enough to twist my pride into fury.
Her ex had left that. He’d dared to touch her, hurt her physically, further scar her emotionally. I wanted to peel his skin back with my bare hands.
I reached up slowly, brushing my thumb over it.
Her eyes fluttered shut, as if she’d forgotten all about it.
A tremor rolled through her. I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t.
Instead, I leaned in closer, anchoring my hands on either side of the counter as I dipped my head to her throat.
Because even with rage boiling through my veins, all I wanted was to make her forget, to cover every inch of her skin in something mine, to show her that I was a safe place for her to fall.
I turned the water on, but she didn’t wait for it to warm. She climbed into the shower, and I followed, crowding her in. The steam rose around us, fogging the glass, and when her back hit the tile, her eyes went wild.
“You sure?” I asked, already brushing the inside of her thigh.
“Callum,” she said, voice low and shaking. “I need to feel you. I need you.”
I kissed her so hard it was nearly punishing, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around my waist. Then I reached between us and dragged the pierced head of my cock through her folds. “You’re soaked,” I rasped. “You want me like this? After the day you’ve had?”
She nodded, eyes fluttering shut. “I’ve wanted you all day. I’ve wanted you since I fucked you with my mouth this morning.”
Fuuuuck. I hummed, nipping at her shoulder. “Do you want me to be gentle?”
Aurélie shook her head. “No. I want you to fight for me.”
“I’ll always fight for you,” I growled, grabbing her hands to pin them above our heads. “You understand me, my love? Always. Toujours.”
Then I pushed inside her—bare, skin to skin—for the first time.
And holy fuck, I saw stars.
Her head dropped back against the wall with a soft cry, her body arching to take me deeper. And I gave it to her—slow at first, just to feel her, just to remember what it was like to be buried in her heat, her tightness, her everything.
My knees nearly buckled from how good it felt. Every inch of me lit up—hot, tight, drenched in her. I felt everything. Every flutter, every clench, every desperate little squeeze, and it drove me fucking insane.
“Jesus fuck—” I bit out, head falling to her shoulder as I let go of her hands to grip her hips. “You feel—fuck, baby. I’ve never—never felt anything like this.”
She let out a strangled moan, her hands fisting in my wet hair as I held still for a beat, trying not to come on the spot like a fucking teenager.
“You’re my first,” I admitted, voice shaking. “Raw. You don’t know what it means to me… to trust you like this. No one’s ever had this part of me. Only. You. You’re my first. And I never—God, Aurélie—no one’s ever felt like this. No one’s ever been like this.” I could barely fucking speak.
Her thighs tightened around me, heels digging into my lower back. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, breath hot against my ear. “Please, Callum—don’t stop.”
“Not a chance in hell.” I pulled out slowly, then thrust back in deep—deeper than before, now that nothing separated us.
“Wait. Attendez, attendez,” she said breathily, and I stopped. Our eyes locked. Her golden hair was pressed to her cheeks and the tile behind us. “Je t’aime. So much it hurts.”
It came out as a broken whimper, and I fucking lost it. I gripped her ass in both hands, hauled her tighter against me, and angled her just right so I could slam into her—hard. Fast. Deep.
“Fuck—yes—” she gasped, her cries echoing off the bathroom walls.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I whispered against her mouth. “So fucking tight and wet. You take me so well, mon c?ur. Just like that.”
She moaned, clenching around me. “Callum—mon Dieu—it’s so much.”
“I know,” I said, picking up my pace. “I know, sweetheart. But you can take it. You always do. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she whimpered.
I growled against her throat, hands sliding under her thighs to lift her up more, pinning her there with the force of every thrust. The slap of skin, the hiss of steam, the breathless cries—it was all wrapped in us. A storm of heat and want and love I couldn’t hold back.
“You hear that?” I rasped. “That’s what you do to me. So fucking wet. So tight around my cock I can barely think. You were made for this. Made for me.”
“I’m yours, mon amour, all yours.”
Music to my ears. “You like being filled up like this?” I murmured against her ear. “You want me to come inside you? You want me to mark you in every fucking way?”
“Yes—please—putain—”
I shifted my angle again, driving deeper, watching her fall apart. Her nails dug into my shoulders, her legs locking around my waist as she rocked into every thrust.
“I love fucking you like this. Nothing between us,” I panted. “Love how you moan for me. Love how you beg. I love you so fucking much.”
She kissed me—sloppy and sweet and so goddamn desperate it broke me. This was more than just fucking the adrenaline of the day away. It was like we were starved. Dreaming of this, desperate for it.
“Touch yourself,” I said, guiding her hand down between us. “Rub that pretty clit while I fuck you. Let me see you come for me.”
She obeyed, because of course she did, and I watched her body seize, her back arching, her mouth falling open on a gasp as she tumbled over the edge. When she came—so tight, so wet, so wrecked—I followed with a groan, hips grinding deep as I emptied inside her.
We stayed like that, tangled and trembling, chests heaving as the water poured over us. Then I kissed her again. Soft this time. Slow. As if I had all the time in the world.
Because I wanted every tomorrow with her.
I didn’t say the words again. I didn’t need to. They were carved into every breath. Every thrust. Every time she looked at me like I was her whole world.