My fingers spread her lips apart, showing me her clit, swollen and red, and her glistening pretty pink pussy below it. I hummed low in my throat before dragging my tongue in slow, deliberate circles around her clit. She gasped, and then I flattened my tongue to apply more pressure. Her hips bucked, so I clamped my arm down over her hips to hold her still. I wanted her to feel every second of this.
My tongue continued to worship her with a fervor that matched the intensity of the storm raging inside me, before I thrust my tongue into her pussy to taste the arousal gathering there.
“Là…justelà,” she cried out, hips jerking as her thighs tensed under my hold.
So I alternated between sucking on her clit and pushing my tongue in and out of her, learning what brought her closer to the edge with only my mouth.Auréliewrithed under the assault of sensations, herbreaths coming in sharp gasps as she crested toward the breaking point.
The sight of her surrendering to pleasure—it was an image that would be seared into my memory forever. When she finally shattered, pussy pulsing around my tongue, calling out my name, it felt like victory.
I dragged my mouth up her body, slow and reverent, tasting her skin, mapping her like a goddamn race circuit I never wanted to forget.
“Beautiful,” I whispered against her skin, caught in her spell. I’d given her something for the first time, and made her mine in return.
She was fucking branded now—red blooms from my mouth, bite marks stamped on her skin like proof. And I bore her marks just the same; scratches etched across my shoulders, my abs, reminders of how fiercely she could match my intensity.
We were marked for no one else but us to see.
I climbed off her to grab a condom, then stood in front of her at the foot of the bed, stroking myself as I watched her watch me. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glazed, mascara smeared beneath lashes that fluttered when I looked at her. Such a pretty mess, and it was all for me.
The thought brought me a mad amount of joy.
With the condom on and my cock aching, I grabbed her ankles and dragged her down the bed until she was lined up against me, her perfect tits bouncing in a way that mesmerized me. She was fucking perfect, and she had no idea that she was unraveling me, thread by thread.
I drove into her in one thrust, and she grabbed the sheets like she needed something to anchor her. She was so tight, warm and wet in a completely addictive way. I’d never be the same after tonight, but I couldn’t think about that. Not right now.
I grasped one of her legs, pulling it up to rest on my shoulder to get a deeper angle, making us both moan. I’d been imagining her just like this for weeks now, but no fantasy could measure up to actually having her.
“Putain,” she whimpered, her gaze locked on where I disappeared inside her, her lips parting on a gasp. I followed her stare, the sightturning me on more. I thrust in and out, her sweet cunt gripping me and quivering like she was getting close.
“Mine,” I murmured. “Even if you walk out of here and never look back… this part of you will always fucking belong to me.”
My grip found her hips so I could fuck her hard and fast. If I slowed down, if I kissed her while buried this deep… it would ruin me. Because then it wouldn’t just be sex—it would be something else. I wasn’t sure either of us were ready for that.
I knew I was lying to myself even as the thought crossed my mind. There were feelings—always had been. I just needed to come to terms with it, when I wasn’t buried inside her, when being this close to her felt like the missing pieces of my soul snapping into place.
And when my orgasm coiled at the base of spine, I reached between us to circle her clit. It was all she needed, her pussy pulsing around my cock. It sent me over the edge with her, and somehow, this was more intense than the first time.
And fuck me, I didn’t want it to end. Not this. Not her. Not us.
I lay on my side,propped on one elbow, watching her breathe. The air still smelled like sweat and sex—raw, unfiltered, ours. Her skin shimmered under the low light, flushed and marked and soft in all the ways I wasn’t.
“Your smile,” I said, my voice rough with aftermath, “it’s something else,Aurélie.”
Aurélie’slips curved into something secretive. “CallumFraser, I didn’t know you were a romantic.”
“Only for the right audience.” I smirked, but the movement felt too soft to be smug. My fingers traced slow, aimless lines along her side—just beneath her ribs, where her skin was warm and damp.
“What about you?” I asked, quieter now. “Are you a romantic?”
Her smile faltered. Something shuttered behind her eyes. “I used to be,” she said, her voice threadbare. “Before life taught me otherwise.”
That ache in her tone hit me somewhere brutal. Like she’d carried the weight of that hurt for too long, and it had worn her down in places no one could see.
“Used to be?” I brushed a knuckle down her cheekbone, slow and careful. “What happened?”
She turned into the touch but didn’t speak. Her eyes locked onto mine like she was trying to decide if I was safe. If I couldhold this piece of her without breaking it. “Life,” she said finally. But it wasn’t enough. Not for me.
“That’s not an answer.” I didn’t mean to sound impatient. I was trying not to sound like Ineededto know. But I did. “When?”
