“Yourmasochist.”
The perfect little submissive he’d trained me to be.
Callum groaned low in his chest, cock twitching hard beneath me—pressing perfectly against my clit, andGod,I gasped as lightning lanced through me, all heat and tension and soaked, slick friction.
“Fuck me, Aurélie…”
“I’mtrying to,” I said sweetly, rolling my hips over him again. “But apparently we’re waiting until we’re indoors like civilized people.”
He bit down on a curse and dragged his mouth to my neck, kissing a slow path down, his stubble rough and deliberateagainst my flushed skin. It scraped just enough to make me shiver. To make my pussy flutter. To make me grind down faster.
We dry humped like we were a couple of goddamn teenagers instead of newly engaged degenerates. Dripping and desperate in paradise, the sound of our moans was positively sinful beneath the stars.
“Back to your question. You remember what you said?” he asked when I stilled, voice rough. “When I win my fifth title or you win your first. Whatever comes first.”
I let my head fall back, eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy. My hips rocked lazily against his again, slower this time, controlled only by the ache still tightening in my core.
The orgasm was building, stealing oxygen, making my thighs quiver.
“Mm, I remember.” It came out all breathy and pitchy and wrong, but oh,sofucking right with the rush of hormones flooding my system like I was seconds from coming.
He slid a hand up my spine to grip the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him. His impossibly blue eyes steadied me,ownedme.
I smiled, teasing. “I’m just getting a head start. I’m thinking of an October wedding, evening ceremony.” I leaned down and kissed his neck, dragging my teeth just enough to leave a mark. “You in black, me with cherries on my lingerie.”
“Cherries.”
“Mhmm.”
“You’re going to kill me.”
“But have I earnedthistonight, mon amour?”
He chuckled, quiet and wrecked, then leaned in—his mouth brushing my jaw as he whispered, “Youhaveearned it, Auri baby. You said yes.” His lips found the corner of my mouth. “You pickedme.” A kiss. “You pickedus.” Another, this time harder. “And I’m gonna make sure you never fucking regret it.”
His tongue pried my lips apart. I opened willingly, my stomach erupting with butterflies. His hand slipped between us, not inside me—God, not yet—but cupping me.
“Every time you come while we’re on holiday,” he murmured, “I want you to remember this moment. Ring on your finger. My cock inside you. And the ocean singing in your ears.”
I whimpered, grinding against his hand, chasing friction like it was salvation.
“You want your fiancé to fill you up right here?” He was breathing hard. On the brink of losing his grip. I wanted him completely unraveled right there with me. “You want me to take you before we even make it inside?”
“Yes,” I begged. “Please.”
He wedged his hand further between us, and I gasped as he teased the seam of me, slick and swollen andso ready.Then, just when I thought he’d give in, he pulled back with a wicked smile.
“Look at you,” he said, slow and cruel andcompletely in love,“dripping all over me already.”
He dragged the pad of his thumb in a slow, lazy circle just below where I was throbbing,justfar enough to make me cry.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” Callum breathed. “This pussy’s mine forever now, yeah?”
I nodded, breath hitching. “Oui, mon dominant.”
His thumb slipped higher, pressed exactly where I needed him, and this time he didn’t stop. He circled and circled, firm and perfect and relentless, until the pressure exploded inside me and I was cominghard—body convulsing, mouth open in a silent cry as I broke apart in his lap.
“That’s it,” he murmured, voice filthy and full of reverence. “My good girl. My fiancée. So fuckin’ perfect when you come for me.”
