Page 9 of Sapphire

“Don’t” I said as I ran my hand up her thigh, feeling her moisture still there. “I will only take what you give freely. Nothing more.” I said as fingers started to caress her upper thighs. I smiled as she changed stance to give me better access. I slid one thick finger into her, steadying her as she swayed slightly, a moan slipping from her lips. “Do you want more sweetheart?” I asked before slipping another finger deep into her.

Kamilla placed one hand on my shoulder, her nails digging in as she moved on my hand, showing me what she wanted.

“Fuck, you are so close already.” I said as I thrust a third finger into her. That was all it took. Kamilla wrapped a leg around my thighs as she bought herself closer, her arms wrapping around my neck as I widened my legs to keep us upright. I could feel my sweatpants becoming wet with my own precum as I worked Kamilla to the edge, watching as her eyes glazed over and her mouth fell over, before she grabbed my face to lower it to hers, my tongue moving in the same motion as my fingers, before I could feel her clench around my fingers and felt the gush of moisture as she bowed into me as I shamelessly rubbed my dick against her, feeling my own release in my pants as I watched her.

Fuck. First time I have ejaculated without a women’s touch. This woman is mine. She is fire and heat and everything I want to sink into.

I pulled my fingers from her and she watched as I bought them to my mouth, running my tongue over my fingers, groaning at the taste if her.

And then she turned and ran.

Fuck.

Chapter 8: Kamilla

Istumbled into my room, my legs still shaking, my core still throbbing with the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm I'd ever had. And it hadn't even been from sex. No, it had been from Seamus's mouth, his tongue, his fingers thrusting deep inside me and curling just right to make me see stars.

I collapsed onto my bed, my skin flushed and damp with sweat. I couldn't believe what had just happened, what Seamus had done to me in that training room. One minute we'd been sparring, and next, he'd had me pinned to the floor, his body hard and heavy on top of mine.

He made sure he wrung two orgasms from me, without even thinking of himself. His own needs. The bastard had just worked me over with his clever tongue and his skilled fingers, bringing me to the brink again and again until I was a writhing, pleading mess beneath him.

Lying here on my bed, all I could think about was him. About his hands, his mouth, his cock. About all the filthy, wicked, fucking glorious things I wanted him to do to me, and all the ways I wanted to worship every inch of his big, hard, perfect body.

Never had I felt this way. I was always the one giving or someone was taking it from me. My needs were never given a second thought.

With Seamus though. Hell. Is it wrong I want more? I want him. All of him.

Almost without conscious thought, my hands began to wander, skimming over my skin, tracing the curves and hollows that were still sensitive from Seamus's touch. I cupped my breasts, rolling my nipples between my fingers, biting my lip to muffle a moan as sparks of pleasure shot straight to my core.

I let my legs fall open, my thighs parting wantonly as I trailed my fingers down my stomach, teasing myself with fleeting, featherlight touches. I was so wet still as I imagined it was Seamus's hand sliding between my legs, Seamus's fingers dipping into my slick folds to gather the evidence of my arousal.

"Fuck," I breathed, my head tipping back against the pillows as I circled my clit with my fingertips. "Oh fuck."

"That's it, sweetheart," a deep, rough voice murmured from the shadows, making me jump. "Let me hear you again. Let me see you come apart again."

My eyes flew open as I turned my head to see Seamus standing at the foot of my bed, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his eyes glittering with a hunger that made my mouth go dry.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I demanded, my hand stilling between my thighs even as my core fluttered and wept for his touch.

He grinned, slow and wicked, and prowled closer, his gaze sweeping over my flushed, half-naked body like a physical caress. "You ran sweetheart. I followed. Now I want to watch you. Listen to all those pretty little noises you make, seeing you touch yourself and wishing it was my hands on you, my fingers inside you again."

I swallowed hard, my nipples tightening almost painfully as a rush of fresh arousal flooded my core. "You fucking Irish pervert," I breathed, but there was no heat in it, no real anger. "You want to get off on watching me get myself off."

"Oh, I'm not getting off, love. Not yet, anyway." He reached down, palming the thick, heavy bulge straining against the front of his sweatpants, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'm saving that for later, when I can finally bury myself in your sweet, tight cunt and make you scream my name for real."

Fuck. I bit my lip hard, my hips rocking up into my hand as I started to move my fingers again, circling and stroking and teasing as he watched me with ravenous, intent eyes.

"It was you making me so fucking wet and desperate I can barely think straight" I panted, my body bowing off the bed as I slid two fingers inside myself, my slick walls clenching greedily around the invasion.

"Good," he growled, his hand tightening on his cock, his hips rocking subtly into his own touch. "I want you to be desperate for me, Kamilla. I want you so ready, when I finally slide into you, when I finally claim you and fill you up and make you mine, you'll never want anyone else ever again."

I shuddered, spasming around my fingers, my clit throbbing beneath the relentless circling of my thumb. I was close.

"I already don't," I gritted out, my head thrashing on the pillow as I fucked myself harder, deeper, chasing the release that hovered just out of reach. "Want anyone else, I mean, you smug, arrogant, Irish bastard."

He made a noise like I'd punched him, his eyes slamming shut, his chest heaving as he fought for control. And then he was moving, stalking towards me with a predatory grace that had every instinct screaming at me to run.

He knelt on the bed between my sprawled legs, his hands coming to rest on my thighs, hot and huge and fucking possessive. He watched me touch myself, watched me arch and writhe and moan, his eyes dark with lust and something deeper, something fiercer.