I tried to push back, to stand my ground. But then one hand let go of mine and slid down the front of my thigh, curving under the hem of my dress, fingers trailing dangerously close to the heat between my legs.
My knees nearly buckled.
“You're a goddamn cocktease,” he murmured, lips ghosting the shell of my ear. My clit throbbed, and I rubbed my sticky thighs together to give myself some friction. “But you're also soaked, dripping, perhaps? I knew you were lying. You can say whatever pretty words you want, but your body doesn't lie. You want me to take care of this little problem, love? Say the word.”
I whimpered when his fingers brushed over my panties with enough pressure to make me spread my legs a little further. My forehead thudded against the wall.
"I'll fuck you right here. No waiting. No teasing. I'll shove these ruined panties to the side and make you scream so loud this whole goddamn club will know that Formula 1's rookie is getting fucked by their World Champion. Is that what you want?"
“Callum,” I whispered, trying to stay strong, to mask how he was undoing me completely. But I whimpered and sank back into him, just enough for him to feel it.
He exhaled hard, and his teeth closed around my earlobe. My nipples tightened against the lace of my bra. “Say my name like that again and I'll bend you over right here. It's perfect coming from your mouth.”
My brain short-circuited. I needed him to fuck me right now, because if he didn't take care of this ache that never seemed to go away, I might combust.
“Callum,yes. Please.”
A guttural sound tore from his throat. He released my other hand and slipped under my dress, yanking my panties aside with a rough tug. Two of his fingers plunged inside without warning.
I gasped, nearly sobbing against the wall. I was soaked, embarrassingly wet, and he didn’t let me hide it.
“That’s it,” he rasped into my ear, curling his fingers deep, pumping them slow and filthy. I pushed up on my toes to chase his touch. “So fucking tight and ready for me.”
I moaned, twisting one arm behind my back, desperate to feel more, to have him. My fingers fumbled with the button of his pants. Got it open and yanked the zipper halfway down.
His hand slammed against the wall beside my head again, his arm flush with mine. His breath was ragged. His fingers were still moving inside me as his teeth scraped my collarbone. His stubble had me shuttering, my pussy clamping around him. We were seconds from crossing a line we could never come back from.
“Fuck, I need to be inside you.”
“I need you. J'ai besoin de toi,” I panted, not even sure he could understand me but not caring. My mind was slipping between languages as my body climbed toward a much needed release. “Callum, s'il te plaît?—”
“Shit,” he snapped, yanking his hand back just as fast footsteps echoed behind us. Three drunk clubgoers rounded the bend, stumbling into view. We both froze.
I stiffened against the wall, trying to look casual while my heart thundered and my body protested the sudden emptiness.
They passed without even noticing us.
Callum's chest was still heaving against my back. I was a mess with my panties twisted, slick thighs, and wild breathing. My hand was still curled around his waistband, so close to pulling him out and sinking him into me that my fingers ached.
Neither of us moved.
I clenched aroundnothing. I was so close I could still feel the orgasm lingering and taunting me.
Callum slowly stepped back, giving me just enough room tobreathe. I had to physically force my legs to stand on their own. My body still thought we were seconds from being fucked senseless in a public hallway.
Which was so fucking stupid of the both of us. One momentary lapse in judgment, and we could've been caught in an extremely scandalous, compromising position. As public figures—fucking celebrityathletes—we should both know better. Everything was on the line but we'd been doing this song and dance for months now, and it was coming to a head. It was only a matter of time before we both completely lost what little control we had left.
I turned around and leaned against the wall, meeting his hooded gaze. Fire crackled between us. I didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or drag him back to finish what we started.
Then he did something absolutely criminal. He raised his right hand and slipped his two glistening fingers into his mouth, sucking my arousal off. I inhaled shakily as I watched, suddenly wanting to taste myself on his tongue.
“This isn’t over,” he said. It felt like a promise. I wanted him to keep it. “Next time,” he added, voice sounding sinful, "I'm not pulling away.”
Then he was gone, disappearing into the dark, leaving me panting against the wall.
Next time… I wouldn’t stop him.
The momentI walked back into the VIP booth, I threw myself down on the leather seat as if it might keep me from combusting.
