“They don’t get to take this from us. So when we want that time, they’ve got to go. I’m not dialing down the PDA just because they’re here.”
I turned my face until our noses brushed. “I’m not fucking you right in front of them.”
“Of course not,” he said mildly. “We’ll be discreet.” His fingers flexed, then curled just under the hem of my romper, a promise in the touch. “Go on, challenge me on that, a ghrà.”
My breath caught. My hands gripped the counter. “Tell me,” I whispered. “Tell me what it means. Teach me your language so I can get lost in all the ones that bind us together.”
His hand inched lower, fingertips brushing my slit, heat blooming everywhere at once. “Mo chridheis ‘my heart,’” he murmured against my skin. “A ghràis ‘my love.’” His fingers pressed against my clit just enough to make my knees wobble. “Both of them are you.”
A helpless little sound slipped out of my throat. I curled my toes against the tile floors, my balance tipping into him. The pan hissed indignantly behind us, sauce threatening to boil, but all I could feel was him—his hand, his breath, the way his body caged mine against the counter.
He hummed his approval. “Still a fucked-out mess and I’ve barely touched you.” One finger slipped inside, slow and firm, curving exactly where I needed the pressure. His thumb dragged upward, grazing my clit with a featherlight pass that had me gasping.
“Callum…” It came out more like a plea than a warning.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Every time I get near you, you just give.” His hand flexed again, slow, possessive. He ground his hips into me from behind. “You feel what you’re doing to me, Auri? This is from the shower. Fromyou. God, I can’t fucking resist you.”
My fingers spasmed around the edge of the counter. “We are never going to be ready for company at this rate,” I managed.
“Good,” he said, then dropped his voice to a murmur that skittered down my spine deliciously. “Because I love when you’re full of me.” It was filthy and tender all at once, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear, and fuck if that wasn’t the most Callum-coded combination I’d ever heard in my life. “Love knowing it’s mine. That your cunt stays soft for me and ready for more.”
I melted. Sagged into his chest, feet shuffling apart instinctively, my grip on the counter possibly the only thing tethering me to gravity.
Then in one smooth motion, he spun me, hands firm at my waist, and lifted me onto the counter beside the stove. The cool stone met the backs of my thighs; the hem of the romper rode up indecently, the seam pulling taut over my pussy. He stepped between my legs, spreading them with an easy, practiced pressure, dragging me to the very edge until there was nowhere to go but into him. My hands shot out, clutching fistfuls of his t-shirt.
“There,” he said, blue eyes dark as they dragged over me. “Now you’re right where I want you.”
I leaned back just slightly, taking him in like a fever dream I never wanted to wake from. That maddening, artfully disheveled hair that looked like sex and saltwater and my fingers had all taken a turn. The scruff he refused to shave since we got here, leaving red streaks on my thighs and my chest. His lounge clothes hung loose but low, fabric soft over a body that made me want to climb him like a goddamn tree. But it was his eyes that undid me. The way they burned when they looked at me, framed by lashes that cast dangerous shadows down the sharp cut of his cheekbones.
I let go of his shirt, cupped his jaw in both hands, and kissed him like the lovedrunk, ring-wearing fool I was—quick and crushing and irrevocably his.
“See?” I breathed, half-laugh, half-gasp. “We can’t keep our hands off each other, mon fiancé. You really think they’re just going to leave us alone?”
He chuckled darkly, thumb stroking slow circles on the inside of my knee like he had all the time in the world to ruin me. “Then we’ll lay the ground rules when they get here.” He grabbed my hips and rolled them against his rigid cock. “Starting with no barging in without knocking, because I might have you bent over right here.”
My giggle tapered into a whimper. “You like torturing me too much,” I whined, but then he did it again, and the early sparks of an orgasm flared to life. “JesusChrist, Callum, I swear you’ve broken me, Pavlov’d me into coming for you from practically nothing.”
Callum grinned wolfishly, that fucking dimple popping. One hand reached up, slow and firm, to wrap around my throat with the perfect amount of possessive pressure. He tipped my head back, baring my neck like a gift, and his mouth followed, stubble scraping, tongue tasting, lips sealing over my pulse like he needed to remind me who I belonged to.
“I have ye in a perfect state of bliss,” he murmured. “And I’m determined to keep ye here. This is our bubble, ye hear me, baby? The outside can come crashing back in, but here? When it’s just us?” His mouth dragged up the column of my throat, facial hair feeling like a prayer against my skin. “The guard stays down.”
“So do my panties when you talk like that,” I muttered breathlessly, swooning when his accent thickened.
“No panties on right now, or did ye forget already?” Just to serve as a reminder, the hand on my hip slid down untilhis thumb dipped beneath the hem of my romper. He kissed that place behind my ear he’d clearly mapped as a weak spot. “Where’s your mind at?” he asked quietly, so tenderly my heart flipped. “Scale of one to ‘très chillée’?”
I rolled my eyes, but the question landed where it needed to. “About a six,” I said. “Four every time I remember Lucy is coming. Three when I think about Ivy. One when I think about the rumors.”
He pressed a kiss to the corner of my lips. “So, don’t think about any of it.”
“Easier said than done, mon amour.”
“Right,” he murmured,“which is why I need you to relax for me, baby.”
His fingers plunged back inside me, deep and fast, and I gasped, arching into him. My hands flew to the edge of the counter, searching for something to hold onto as his other hand squeezed lightly at my throat, keeping me anchored while he fucked me slow with his fingers—again and again, working that spot until I was trembling.
“The world gets whatever access we decide to give them,” he said, voice almost too calm for what his hands were doing to me. “Same goes for anyone else.”
I whimpered, thighs tensing, and he leaned in closer.
