10. Chapter 10 Kamilla
Chapter 10: Kamilla
I hit the mat with a grunt, the breath whooshing out of my lungs as Seamus's heavy body pinned me down. We were training again, working on my hand-to-hand combat skills, and as usual, our session had devolved into a sweaty, panting mess of tangled limbs and barely-suppressed sexual tension.
It had been like this for weeks now, ever since that first explosive encounter in the training room. We would start out focused, determined, trading blows and blocks and kicks with brutal efficiency. Then, inevitably, the heat between us would flare to life, consuming everything in its path.
Seamus would pin me, his hands rough and demanding on my skin, his breath hot against my ear as he growled filthy promises and dark fantasies. And I would arch into him, my body singing with need, my mind chanting a desperate litany of "more, more, more." He would make me come, would wring orgasm after mind shattering orgasm from my willing body with his fingers, his tongue and his dirty words, but he always stopped short of burying himself inside me.
It was the sweetest, most delicious agony I had ever known, and I was addicted to it, to him. Now, as he loomed over me with that infuriating smirk on his face and that hot, heavy look in his eyes, I felt that addiction flare to life once again, spreading through my veins.
"Yield," he demanded, his voice a low, rasping growl that made my toes curl and my nipples tighten beneath my sports bra.
I grinned up at him. "Make me."
His eyes flashed, his grip on my wrists tightening until I could feel the bones grind together. "Oh, I'll make you, all right. I'll make you beg, make you plead, make you fucking scream for mercy."
I shivered, my hips arching up to grind against the hard, heavy shape of his erection. "Promises, promises. You're all talk and no action, O'Malley. When are you going to man up and fuck me already?"
He growled, his head dipping down to nip sharply at my jaw. "When you're ready.”
I whimpered, my eyes fluttering shut as his teeth scraped over my racing pulse. "You’re a bastard. Can't you feel how much I want you? How much I fucking need you?"
He groaned, his hips grinding down against mine in a dirty, delicious roll. "I feel it, baby. Fuck, I feel it every second of every day, but I need you to want me, not just how hard I can make you come. We need to concentrate on what is coming. You need to be ready for the war.”
I opened my eyes, my gaze locking with his. "For the love of God and all things holy, will you just fucking fuck me already? Then I can concentrate on training."
For a moment, he just stared down at me, his expression unreadable. And then, with a low, curse, he claimed my mouth in a kiss that was pure hunger. I kissed him back with everything I had, my hands fisting in his hair, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, deeper, harder. He tore his mouth from mine with a ragged gasp, his forehead resting against my own as he fought for control.
"Fuck, Kamilla. You can't say shit like that to me. Not when I'm hanging on by a thread.”
I grinned, slow and wicked. "Maybe I want you to lose control. Maybe I want to see what happens when the big, bad Seamus O'Malley finally lets himself go, finally gives in to all those dark, dirty desires you keep whispering to me.”
He groaned, his head falling forward to rest in the crook of my neck. "You're going to be the death of me, woman. But fuck if I can bring myself to care."
Then he was gone, rolling off me and onto his feet with a grace that belied his size. He held out a hand to me. "Come on. Let's hit the showers and call it a day. I think we've both had enough heat for one session."
I let him pull me to my feet, and I followed him out of the training room without protest, my mind already racing ahead to what I knew I had to do. It was time to take matters into my own hands. Time to show Seamus just how much I wanted him, just how far I was willing to go to make him mine. And if that meant ambushing him in the shower, well…