His lips twitched, a shadow of something more serious flickering behind his smile. “Elle saura,” he said softly, the words rolling off his tongue with the ease of someone who understood them. My chest tightened. “She’ll know,” he translated, even though it was pointless. “I didn’t know whoshewas when I got it. I just… knew I’d feel it when I found her.”
I blinked, the air stolen from my lungs. “That’s… how do I say it in English?”
“Don’t.” He cupped my jaw and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “Say it in French. Let me hear that beautiful language from your perfect mouth.”
My voice trembled, breath catching on the words as I said, “Je crois que c’est moi. Celle que tu attendais.”
His eyes darkened instantly, and he sucked in a breath. I didn’t even get a chance to translate before he crushed his mouth to mine—desperate, reverent, like he finally fuckingknewI was his. We’d been dancing around the way we felt, not quite admitting it to ourselves, let alone each other, but I needed him to know, even if it wasn’t saying those three little words just yet. He’d know, and maybe that would give him the courage to take a leap into this with me.
I think it’s me. The one you were waiting for.
And based off his reaction alone, I knew I’d hit the nail on the head.
He pulled back to meet my eyes, and the blue in his had never looked so soft. “Aurélie…” His voice trailed off, but I sensed the reverence, and a goofy grin split my face in half.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I whispered. “Because I feel it, too.” His throat bobbed, and I watched the movement before deciding to steer us away from this topic. Maybe it was too much, too soon, but I wouldn’t dwell on it. “You keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to climb on top of you and ride your face until you drown in me.”
Callum blinked before chuckling, his hand tightening on my wrists. “You’re out of control.”
“I think you like me that way.”
He nodded slowly, the lights overhead glinting off his damp hair, and the humor in his eyes gave way to something heavier. “I do. I love it.”
That quiet pause after told me everything I needed to know. He felt it, and this was just foreign to him, so I let him sit in it, forced him to feel it. Neither of us said anything for a moment. We just looked at each other—smiling, soft, a little stunned. There was this golden haze wrapped around us, and I wanted to live inside it forever.
Then, he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and something darker slipped into his features. “Hey,” he said, voice low.
“Yeah?”
His mouth brushed mine. “Remember what I said I’d do the next time you called me a slut?” I stilled, and he grinned so big his dimple appeared. “Thought so.” His head dipped, and then his teeth closed around one nipple. My back bowed, and I gasped at the pleasurable pain that radiated from the bite. He moved to the other one, doing the same, and it went straight to my clit.
Before I could react, he released my wrists, grabbed my waist, and yanked me to a kneeling position so fast I yelped. My breathing turned shallow, the floor cool beneath me as he sat back on his heels and reached for the zipper of his hoodie. I swallowed hard as he tugged it down in one smooth motion, and when he pulled it off his shoulders to reveal his bare torso, my jaw went slack.
Fucking hell. Every inch of him was glistening—the muscles of his stomach taut and glimmering, that fucking strip of hair from his navel to the low-sitting waistband of his shorts. The veins in his arms were prominently on display, running down his biceps and forearms in an entirely too provocative way. My thighs instinctively squeezed together, and I practically drooled at the sight of him like this.
He smirked. “You’re not even being subtle.”
“You’re not even being fair.”
He chuckled and leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, and it was so painfully tender that I melted into a puddle right there in front of him. A literal puddle, if the wetness drenching my shorts was any indication. “You’re gonna put that mouth to better use now, yeah?”
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant instead of the flustered, obsessive mess I was inside. Except my heart was racing, and my brain? Absolutely not cooperating. He wasshirtless, stupidly veiny, hot and sweaty from what we’d already done, and looking at me like I was his next fucking meal. I opened my mouth to flirt, to sass, todo somethingsexy and cool and confident.
But what came out was not that. Because apparently he turned my insides to mush, my mind no longer able to form coherent sentences. I licked my lips and said, “I want your cock in my—dans ma… ugh,merde!No.Mouth. Like you promised.” I winced. God, how did he find me attractive? How had I ever seduced a man, let alonehim, before?
Callumhowledwith laughter while I grimaced, my face feeling hot. “Baby.I know your English is better than that.”
“I blacked out!” I whisper-yelled. “You took off your shirt and I forgot every language I’ve ever known. It happens way too often when you’re around, which is why you should not speak to me in public.”
He was still laughing as he reached for the back of my neck, dragging me closer. “Don’t worry, love,” he said, voice dropping to a dark rasp. “I knew exactly what you meant.” He kissed me hard, plunging his tongue into my mouth and erasing every word that had been about to leave my lips. Then he threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck and pulled me back.
I tilted my head, lips still tingling from his, finally finding my words, letting them fall from my mouth with sweet venom. “Tu parles trop, pute.”
He made a sound in the back of his throat—rough and primal more than anything human—that had my stomach bottoming out and my mouth going dry. “Oh,that’swhat we’re doing now? Calling me a whore in French?”
I shrugged, smug. “Well. If the condom fits.”
His mouth parted slightly in shock, and then it curved into the filthiest, most deliciously unhinged grin I’d ever seen. “You’re gonna regret that.”
