Page 118 of Flat Out
And I’d never felt more powerful, more alive, more his, in my life.
“You know what will really kill me, love, is if you keep looking at me like you’re already my wife.”
The words hit like a shiver straight down my spine, zipping through me, hot with arousal and burning with love. My body rocked harder on top of him, partly because I wanted him to feel just how undone I was, partly because if I didn’t laugh I might cry.Already his wife?Mon Dieu.
The thought struck me so hard I saw it: a veil brushing my shoulders, his broad hands trembling as he slid a ring onto my finger, his accent wrecked as he said my name at an altar. Callum Fraser, in a kilt, of all things, beaming like he’d won the championship just for showing up and sayingI do.
I grinned down at him, unhinged and not at all tame as I teased, “Pink peonies, yes? For the church aisle? Or maybe on the cake too. Tell me, mon cœur, will you wear a kilt at the altar, or is that reserved for just the naughty ones?”
His laugh broke on a groan, his hands gripping my hips like I was slipping through his fingers. “A church, love? I would’ve guessed you’d want your beloved lavender fields. Barefoot bride, smelling like sunshine and wildflowers.”
I hummed, thinking of the image he painted. My family’s estate, endless lavender fields before us as the sun set over the hills. The floral scent wrapping around us. Dirt under my feet, his tie loosened, both of us barefoot because we couldn’t wait one more second to belong to each other.
Hope—terrifying, impossible, beautifully destructive hope—fluttered in my chest like wings. “Maybe both.” The words slipped out softer than I meant them to, but he caught them anyway.
“Doesn’t matter to me.” One palm slid up my spine, tugging me down until our chests were flush against each other. “I’ll marry you wherever you want, baby. A church, a field, a bloody parking lot. As long as I can bow at your feet, worship you, and make you mine forever.”
My teeth caught my bottom lip, eyes going wide. Did he know what he’d just done to me? Because now I couldn’t stop seeing any of it. A parking lot, the fields, a sprawling church with grandiose architecture—it didn’t matter. It was the same image every time: me, walking toward him. Him, waiting for me. A vow that had nothing to do with flowers or rings and everything to do with how he looked at me like I was already his.
For the first time in my life, I believed I deserved that kind of devotion.
“Hmm,” I managed, letting the filth cover the ache in my chest, “well if I get my way, I’ll have you on your knees before the vows. Let the whole fucking world know we belonged to each other long before we said I do.”
He smirked, fingers twisting into my hair in a claiming hold that made my whole body tighten. “Then I’d better startpracticing how to look humbled. Hope the vicar’s comfortable, because I’ll be taking my time.”
Heat curled low in my belly, reckless and wild. I arched a brow, voice purring. “After I take your last name, and I’m Mrs. Fraser, will the cake be chocolate, or just me on my knees in white lace?” My grin widened, devilish. “Also, what do we teach our kids—however that looks for us—to call you? Daddy or Father?”
The way he groaned, all loud and ruined, rattled the walls. And God, the power of it nearly split me apart. He wasn’t running from the wordkids. He wasn’t flinching. He was here, wanting it all with me. My body rocked against his, desperate, reveling in the redemption of that.
I rotated my hips, the duvet falling away, and his hand clamped on my hip, the other sliding around my neck like a prayer. Every inch of me tightened around the thick, throbbing length of him, and for once, what had felt like ruin yesterday felt like hope today—hot, desperate, holy.
His kiss was savage, teeth scraping my lip before his growl seared into me: “Maybe I’ll bend you over the altar itself. Let the whole bloody congregation know I claimed you before God could. And then I’ll ruin you in that dress, lace bunched around your hips, pearls rattling as I fuck you until you can’t even say your vows without moaning my name.”
A cry broke from me, half laugh, half plea, and then he slammed into me—hard, deliberate, worshipful. My body caught fire. The cool drag of his piercing sent sparks racing up my spine. I matched him, thrust for thrust, my eyes catching his, glittering with mischief. “Look at how enraptured you are by me.” My teeth nipped at his ear, lips scraping stubble, savoring the moan I pulled from him. Yesterday my power had been ripped away. Today, I was taking it back.
“All you have to do is make me yours, Fraser. Make me yours right now. Marry me with your mouth first.”
I didn’t care if I sounded wild. I was-–Dieu, I was.Wild for him. Wild for this.
He groaned something between a laugh and a vow. “Fine.” His kisses bruised, his hands slid under my ribs, holding me like I was breakable and unbreakable all at once. “I vow to you, here and now, over and over, to carve a life out of whatever mess this world throws at us—kids or not, chaos, whatever. I promise to protect you, to be the man who holds the door when you need it open, and the one who gets on his knees when you need to be worshipped. You’re mine, Aurélie. All of you. Always.”
Jesus fuck, I loved this man.
A sob caught in my throat, but I buried it in a kiss, craving him in ways that only my soul could reach for. I barely noticed he’d rolled us until I was on my back, legs locking around him to bring him as close to me as possible. When he pulled my leg up over his shoulder, the new angle ripped a broken moan from my chest.
He filled me so deep it felt like eternity. There was no telling where he ended and I began. We were one, bound to each other on a level deeper than this universe could comprehend.
The world blurred—thrusts pounding, skin slick, breaths ragged. His mouth latched onto my throat, sucking at my pulse like he could taste the life he’d put back into me. His thumb found my clit, circling until my legs shook, until my body screamed.
Each touch, each thrust, wasn’t just sex. It was reclamation. It was resurrection.
I gasped his name, clawed my nails down his shoulders, every nerve ending unraveling. My walls fluttered around him, dragging him closer, tighter.
He whispered my full name like a prayer, promised me eternity between kisses, and I believed him. For the first time in forever, I truly believed.
When he said, “I promise,” my body clenched around him like it was sealing that vow into my skin.
And when I broke apart, when the world shattered into light and sound and Callum, he followed me over the edge, groaning my name like it was the only word he’d ever need.
