11. Chapter 11 Kamilla
Chapter 11: Kamilla
T he 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.
“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.