Magic Of Blood And Sea (Trafalgar Law X OC)

chapter 51

FEYRE POV

Without breaking the kiss, he had me backed against the mirror, picking up my weight with one hand under my ass. I grabbed his broad shoulders and wrapped my legs around his hips, feeling his cock press urgently between my spread legs.

The thought that nothing's separating us down there but a zipper sent thrills throughout my body. I feel the pressure building in my core, desperate for some type of release. Different faces flash through my mind like a movie reel, all of them meeting the same demise.

But the pressure between my legs grows and grows until I'm sure just one touch of my fingers would send me over the edge.

I haven't felt aroused in five years.

Haven't and didn't want to feel.

For five years, I worked and studied and did everything in my power to just not feel. When on the contrary, I'm a bundle of feelings and emotions. I'm an artist, it's not in my nature to be cold and numb.

I spent half a decade feeling alone. I liked the silence at first. It kept me convinced I was in control even though it broke my heart. And that first time he kissed me in the control room, I was afraid to love him and be loved back.

I was afraid to admit I found someone who gave me more than loneliness ever could.

He made me stop wanting to hide my heart from the world.

Law's free hand comes up to cup my breast. I felt the touch all the way down to my core, my hips automatically grinding against him wanting more. Needing more.

Before I could catch my breath, law walked into the bathroom–still hoisting me up against him– and stepped into the tub, pushing my back against the cold tiles. The difference in temperature between his body and the cold tiles had me gasping in his mouth.

Right as I pull away for air, I hear him turn on the cold shower spray making me let out a little yelp as the water hit my side.

"Body is purified by water. Ego by tears. Intellect is purified by knowledge. And the soul—" he said into my mouth, " —is purified with love." and his lips captured mine again.

It was a kiss of claim, of power, of hunger, one to make the blood simmer and head spin.

He groaned against my mouth, his tongue swooping in to lick at my tongue, and I felt it between my legs, right where his bulge was pressing into me. Slanting my face to the side with his hand in my hair, he deepened the kiss.

"Say my name,"

"Law," it escaped me on a whisper, "please."

"Fuck," he cursed before he sank his teeth into my neck, and his hips intensified the pressure.

His cock rolling against my aching core became too much.

His head sunk lower, with the first lick of his tongue over the shirt, right over my peaked nipple, I crashed against the wave cresting inside me, with a loud noise, something between a moan and a scream, I shattered in his arms.

My toes curled and thighs tightened around his hips as my spine curved, the orgasm surprising me with its intensity, the stars behind my eyelids so so beautiful I chased them for another second, holding onto them.

This was precious. A willing orgasm was so fucking precious.

I blinked the tears away–though I couldn't tell the salty tears from the water droplets streaming down on us, I looked up at the ceiling as awareness filtered in slowly.