Page 13 of Sapphire

“You are eager this morning,” Seamus chuckled as he finally moved south, kissing his way down my stomach, over my hip bones, zeroing in on where I wanted him most.

His mouth them devoured me. No teasing, no building up. He just dove in like a man starved, licking and suckling at my aching flesh as my fingers sunk into his hair to hold him in place.

"Seamus, please," I begged.

"I know what you need, but I want to hear you say it, Kamilla. Want to hear how much you fucking want me."

My nails raked over his scalp. "I want you, you bastard.”

He snarled and then he was surging up my body and sheathed himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him impossibly deeper.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he gritted out, hips already moving in hard, driving strokes. "Hot and tight and fucking soaked. This pussy is mine, you hear me, Kamilla? Mine."

"Yes," I gasped. “Just please.”

"Do it," he commanded, grinding against me as he lifted my hips higher so he could get deeper.

I clenched and spasmed around the iron-hard length of him. He fucked me through it, murmuring filthy praise and encouragement, until I was limp and trembling and so fucking sensitive it almost hurt.

With a roar that shook the bed frame, he then let go. I felt the hot rush of him, felt the pulsing, twitching length of his cock as he emptied himself inside me. For one moment I wondered if I would get pregnant. If the Irish seed will take hold where the Russian couldn’t. The thought made me strangely happy at being full of Seamus’s child.

I swallowed hard past the sudden lump in my throat as Seamus, as if noticing my sudden change of mood, kissed me slow and so achingly tender it stole my breath.

“Today we go to war.” He said, as he traced lazy circles on my stomach. “Today is the day you become a queen.”

“A russian queen though Seamus. Then I am back to my own household and you stay here.”

There was no other way. After today, whatever the outcome, things will change between Seamus and me forever.

Chapter 12: Kamilla

We were at war. Bullets whizzed through the air mixed with the sound of shouted orders and pained screams. This is what we had planned for. I was taking my rightful place. My throne, my fucking birthright. Beside me, Seamus was a force of nature and watching him fight make me hot in ways that had nothing to do with the adrenaline pumping through my body.

We fought our way through the compound, the Irish and the Italians at our backs, a united front for once. Aria was deadly with her knife and Liam, that man was a machine. Seamus had told me he had trained Liam, so knew he was the right person to be beside Aria, but seeing him in action was poetry. A terminator in a tailored suit, mowing down anyone who dared to stand Aria’s way. The two of them moved like extensions of each other, anticipating each other's every move.

Finally, I saw him. Piotr. I owed him some pain. He was barricaded in his office like the coward he was, surrounded by his most loyal men. We cut through them until it was just me and him, face to face at last, with nothing and no one left to stand between us. Seamus, Aria, Liam, Cara and Finn circled us, but stood back, knowing this was my fight. If I was ever to be respected as their Russian queen, I had to be the one to kill Piotr.

"Kamilla," he sneered, his lip curling in a mockery of a smile. "You always were a pathetic little bitch, so eager to spread your legs for anyone. Even the Irish."

I laughed, the sound cold and harsh in the sudden silence. "Oh, Piotr. Still trying to use your dick as a weapon, even when we both know it's ineffective. Tell me, how does it feel to know that even your whores have to fake it, just to get you off and out of their hair?"

He snarled, his eyes flashing with rage and humiliation. "You fucking cunt. Do you need another lesson on what a real man can do.”

I smiled, slow and vicious. "You'll have to touch me first, you flaccid sack of shit. And I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly in a touchy-feely mood."

He lunged for me, flying from his lips. I was ready for him, as I dodged his wild grab, using his own momentum to send him stumbling past me. Then, while his back was turned, I launched myself at him and slammed him to the ground. He was strong, I'd give him that, with a wiry kind of strength that belied his weaselly frame. Seamus had made me stronger, that and I was fueled by rage and pain. I had a reason to win, beyond just my own selfish desires and petty ambitions.

I had a fucking kingdom to claim.

With a final, wrenching twist, I heard a crack as his arm broke. I smiled when I felt the bone snap beneath my hands, heard his scream of agony. As he lay there mewling and clutching at his ruined limb, I clambered to my feet and stood over him like the fucking queen I was.

"It's over, Piotr," I said. "The Bratva is mine now, mine to rule and mine to rebuild.”

He spat at my feet, his face twisted with hate "Fuck you, you crazy bitch. You think you've won? You think you can lead these men. You're fucking delusional."

I laughed again. "Oh, I don't think, Piotr. I know. Because unlike you, I'm not afraid of the monsters in the dark. I am the monster now. And I will use that reputation to rebuild the Bratva in my own image.”

I leaned down. "I will make it great again, Piotr. A force to be reckoned with, respected and feared in equal measure.”

---