Page 45 of Flat Out
And I had never, in my entire goddamn life, come harder.
“You didn’t even touch yourself."
I was panting, body still coming down from the aftershocks, my cock throbbing in my pants. My fingers werestillinside her, and when she clenched around them again, I choked on a breath. Then I pulled my hand out and grabbed her jaw, soaked and all, and tipped her face to meet mine. I couldsmellher perfect little cunt all over my fingers when I pulled her closer, lips brushing hers.
"Youdid that to me," I told her, voice ragged. "Now look at this mess we made. We're both soaked like we fucking belong together."
"We do."
Jesus fuck.No one should be allowed to love someone this much and survive it.
After a moment, Aurélie shifted and made a strangled sound, almost as if she was about to bolt. “Oh myGod,Callum?—”
“Don’t youdareapologize.” She blinked, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. Beautiful.Mine.“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” I growled. “You’re perfect. Do you hear me?Perfect.”
She swallowed hard, lips parted. “I didn’t mean to?—”
“Exactly.” My thumb stroked her jaw. “You couldn’t help it. That’s what made it so fucking real. Besides, look at what I did.”
Her eyes fluttered shut like she was trying to breathe through the shame, but I pressed a kiss to her cheekbone and held her tighter, soaking wet lap be damned. She collapsed against my chest, panting.
“Mon Dieu…” she whispered, still trembling. “Je t’aime. Je t’aime tellement. Tu ne sais pas combien tu m’as manqué. J’ai cru que j’allais te perdre?—”
I stroked her back gently. Pressed my lips to her temple. Just let her talk in her native tongue. She buried her face in my neck and kept whispering. So soft, so raw, so vulnerable. I didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask her to translate what I already understood. I listened to the language I fell in love with—not because it was French, but because it belonged to her.
I love you. I love you so much. You don't know how much I missed you. I thought I was going to lose you.
Every word from her mouth was sacred. And I’d take all of them. Every last one.
When the car slowed in front of the hotel, I just glanced down at the soaked fabric across my stomach and lap and sighed. Yep, I was about to get out covered in my girlfriend's orgasm—okay, mine too—like it was a fucking war medal.
I'd earned that as much as she had. No shame in hiding it.
“Guess I’m walking in like this.”
The hotel lobbylooked like the kind of place that charged extra if you breathed too hard on the marble. A single crystal chandelier hung like a halo above the front desk, glittering with every movement. Somewhere near the elevators, a grand piano sat untouched—ornamental and probably out of tune with reality.
And I couldn't fuckingbreathe.Not because of the chandelier or the goddamn piano, but because Callum was standing behind me. Smug, calm, and smiling like a man who hadn't just made me soak his lap so thoroughly he'd come in his pants and needed to adjust his shirt when we climbed out of the car.
Heat licked up my neck. He told me not to apologize, but that was… an uncontrollable reaction. I glanced back at him, only for the memory to hithard. His soaked sleeves. How he held me tightly through his own release. The moment of quiet after. The way he looked at me as if I'd bled starlight into his hands.
Fuck.
I snapped my gaze forward and tried to act normal. No, I absolutelywasn’tstill aching in lace that clung like a second skin.
I didn’t even blink—was that normal?—and walked straight to the front desk with the kind of casual ease that saidI belong in five-star spaces, notI'm still leaking through my panties and my boyfriend behind me is covered in our cum.
Callum hung back with his arms crossed and a cocky little smirk on his face that screamed,You know exactly what you did, mon cœur.Wet stains on full display.
Mon Dieu, kill me now, please.
“Bonjour,” I said, adjusting my purse strap and bouquet of flowers as I handed my ID over. “I believe my bags were delivered to my room earlier. I just need a keycard.” I was emotionally drained now and ready to be in bed with him, not having to interact with the hotel personnel.
The receptionist tapped a few keys, then smiled wide. “Of course, Miss Dubois. Thank you for booking our penthouse suite.”
I blinked rapidly, my brain playing catch up. “Your what?” Then, as the words sank in, I turned slowly, eyes narrowed on the gorgeous bastard grinning at me as though he hadn’t just spent the last fifteen minutes destroying my central nervous system. “Callum.”
He lifted a brow and looked entirely too pleased with himself. “I changed the reservation.”
