Page 12 of Sapphire

Taking a deep breath, I reached for the hem of my tank top and pulled it over my head. My sports bra and leggings followed, until I was naked. Before I could lose my nerve, I stepped forward and pushed open the bathroom door.

The sight that greeted me made my breath catch in my throat, made my mouth go dry and my pulse skyrocket into the fucking stratosphere. Seamus was standing under the spray, his back to me, the water sluicing over the broad, muscled expanse of his shoulders and down the taut, perfect curve of his ass. He was magnificent, a fucking work of art, all hard planes and chiseled edges and inked skin that made my fingers itch to trace every line, every swirl. But it was the scars that really caught my attention. The thick, silvery ropes of tissue that criss-crossed his flesh. They were beautiful and brutal and fucking sexy as hell, because they were a part of him, a part of the man I had fallen so hard and so completely for.

I must have made some kind of noise, some soft, involuntary sound of appreciation, because Seamus suddenly stiffened, his head whipping around to stare at me over his shoulder. For a moment, he just gaped at me, but then his gaze swept over me, taking in my naked body, and his expression shifted, morphing into something hot and hungry.

"Kamilla," he asked as his eyes ran over me. "What are you doing here?"

I swallowed hard; my mouth suddenly dry. "I'm here for you, Seamus. Here to show you how much I need you."

He turned to face me fully, and I nearly swallowed my tongue at the sight of him. He was perfect, every inch of him, from the corded muscles of his thighs to the thick, heavy jut of his cock against his belly. I wanted to touch him, to taste him. I stepped into the shower and sank to my knees before him. He made a strangled noise above me, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Kamilla, fuck. You don't have to do this."

I looked up at him through the curtain of my wet hair, my lips curving in a slow, wicked smile. "I know I don't have to. But I want to. I want to make you feel good, Seamus. I want to taste you too.” Without waiting for his response, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth.

He shouted, his hips jerking forward as I swallowed him down. I moaned around him, my eyes fluttering shut as I savored the taste of him, the weight and heat and fucking perfection of him on my tongue. I worked him with my mouth and my hands, soon learning the pressure he liked from the filthy noises that made him shake and curse and tangle his fingers in my hair. I could feel him getting close, could taste the salt-bitter tang of his pre-cum on my tongue, and I doubled my efforts, determined to make him come. Just as I thought he was about to explode, just as I was about to take him deep and swallow down every last drop, he pulled away.

He hauled me to my feet and slammed me back against the slick, cool tile, his eyes blazing with a hunger that made my knees weak.

"Enough," he growled, his hands bracketing my head, his body pressing me into the wall with delicious, overwhelming pressure. “I need to be inside you when I come. Need to make you mine in every way that fucking matters."

“About time,” I said as my hands tried to pull him closer.

He made a low, desperate noise, and then his mouth was on mine, hot and hard and hungry, my arms winding around his neck, my legs wrapping around his waist as he lifted me against the wall. With one hard, sure thrust, he was inside me.

I cried out at the stretch. He was huge, bigger than I had ever imagined, but my body adjusted, opening for him like it had been made for this, for him, and the pain became pleasure, the burn became bliss.

"Fuck, Kamilla," he gritted out, his forehead pressed against mine, his hips moving in slow, deep strokes that made me see stars. "You feel so fucking good. So tight, so hot, so fucking perfect. I knew you would be, knew you were made for me, only fucking me."

I moaned, my nails digging into his shoulders as I rocked against him. "Yes, only you. Always you. Fuck, Seamus, I love this. Love you.”

He went still against me, his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, I was terrified that I had said too much, that I had ruined everything. Then he was moving again, his thrusts harder, faster, more desperate. "Say it again."

I gasped, my head thrashing against the tile. "I fucking love you, Seamus O'Malley. Just don’t stop."

He growled, his teeth sinking into the curve of my neck, his cock slamming into me with ruthless, relentless force. "I love you too, Kamilla. Fuck, I love you so much it fucking hurts. I'm yours, sweetheart. Yours forever, yours in every way that fucking matters.” I screamed his name as I shattered, my body clenching around him, milking him, pulling him over the edge with me.

He roared as he came, his hips jerking, his cock pulsing inside me as he filled me with his heat. It was the most intense, most intimate moment of my life, and I knew that I would never, ever be the same.

Chapter 11: Kamilla

The first rays of morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the tangled sheets. I was sore in all the right places, my muscles aching pleasantly with the memory of the night before. I could feel Seamus’ solid warmth pressed against my back; his arm draped possessively over my waist. Hi hand tightened on my belly as he slowly woke, his lips skimming the sensitive skin of my neck.

"Morning, love," he murmured, as he nibbled on my neck. "Sleep well?"

I hummed, arching back into him. "I'm not sure how much actual sleeping we did."

Seamus chuckled, "Aye, I seem to recall we had more important matters to keep us busy.” He shifted, rolling me beneath him in one smooth motion. My thighs fell open to cradle his hips, as my arms wound around his neck. Seamus settled between my legs like he belonged there.

"I still can't believe this is real," Seamus said as he kissed the tip of my nose. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this, taste you, be inside you. I've wanted you for so fucking long, Kamilla.”

I reached up, cupping his face in my palms. "We have only just started. I want more of what we did. I want more of you.”

Seamus growled, low and deep in his chest. "Fuck, Kamilla. I’m trying to be gentleman and give you time to recover."

I grinned and rolled my hips against him. Seamus hissed through his teeth, fingers flexing on my thigh.

“Stop talking and put that filthy mouth to better use."

He muttered what sounded like a prayer, or maybe a curse, then he was moving down my body, trailing open-mouthed kisses over my skin. He drew each nipple into his mouth, suckling and nipping until I was panting and writhing beneath him, trying to push him further south.

---