Words I didn’t know and couldn’t translate, but my soul did.
“Mo leannan. Mo bhean. Mo chion. Mo nighean fionn.”
My head dropped forward, sweat clinging to my temples. My hips moved on instinct, riding the rhythm of his fingers, guided by devotion.
“God, you feel so good,” he whispered, like it wrecked him to admit it. I could feel the tight coil of his restraint in every muscle of his arm—held taut, trembling with the effort of staying right where he was. Of giving me everything, even when he couldn’t take. The thought of him holding back, just to make sure I came apart in his hand before I walked toward forever—fuck, it made it hotter. Sexier. More sacred.
“So soft. So mine.” His voice cracked. “I wish I was buried in you, but the next time I am, we’ll be married.”
“Married.” The word splintered in my throat. “Fuck, Cal, I’m gonna?—”
“That’s my girl,” he growled, filthy and proud. “You’re going to say yes with that soaked little pussy still throbbing around the memory of my fingers. And when I push inside you later, it’ll feel like coming home.”
I gasped, and then I was gone. His thumb circled one last time, and pressure rushed to the surface.
Cal chuckled darkly. “That’s it, baby. Give it to me. Let me have it. Let me take you apart one last time before you become my wife.”
A pornographic moan escaped my lips before I could stop it, and then everything went quiet. My next breath was half his name, half prayer. My body convulsed around him, thighs locking, the orgasm crashing over me so hard it stole every thought, every breath. My release coated our hands, my knees wobbled, and I could barely stay upright.
He sighed like I’d just given him oxygen. “My favorite fucking sound, Auri.”
“Yours,” I whispered hoarsely. “All yours.”
His hand slid slowly out of my panties, and he brought our slick fingers to his mouth. Twisting my wrist gently, he parted his lips and sucked two fingers into his mouth—mine and his—tasting me like it was communion. Like he was praying too, stubble scraping my skin deliciously.
“Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever had,” he rasped, and the vibrations had me aching all over again. “Can’t wait to lick it off your thighs tonight.”
I swayed on my feet, dizzy again. I tilted my neck back and forth to release the tension, tugged my panties back into place one-handed, then dropped the dress, smoothing it down with my palm. It was only wrinkled a little.
Damn him.
“These wrinkles better not be visible in pictures, Callum. If I look like I just got bent over a wine barrel,youwill become the sub for a whole day.”
There was nothing but amused adoration in my voice. I wasn’t upset in the slightest. The pictures would be edited, but honestly? What was more romantic than being so in love you couldn’t keep your hands off each other? What was hotter thanwalking into your own ceremony with your body still thrumming from an orgasm he gave you just to calm your nerves?
I’d have it no other way.
Now I wasn’t just floating. I wassoaring. Anchored and feral. His, in every sense of the word.
“We’re getting married. I don’t regret a goddamn thing.”
“We’re late to our own wedding.”
“Exactly,” he retorted, without hesitation as he lowered our hands. I shuffled just a tad closer to him. “They wait for us.”
Our fingers found each other again, and I exhaled deeply, instantly steadier. Grounded. Anchored. The tension I didn’t even realize I’d been holding bled out with that single touch.
“I know we have our vows,” Callum said suddenly. “But I want to say this now that it’s just you and me. Let’s make a promise.”
My throat tightened. “Okay.”
“This,” he said, “today, is ourvictory lap.”
I sighed happily and tipped my head back, letting the breeze caress my heated skin. “After all the wreckage and every close call.”
“We’re about to cross the finish line.”
“We survived every time we got red flagged,” I whispered.
