Old Money || Shawmila [Completed]

23. Mine!

Her belly was full of food, but Camila felt strangely light. Listening to Shawn's words had not been easy, but now that she knew she could try to make up for her mistakes - or at least apologize - the weight she had been carrying for years had dissolved. Contrary to what Camila feared, their conversation had not ended in an argument or a series of unpleasant comments that would have surely hurt her. Surprisingly, the topic had been set aside quickly, and she and Shawn had resumed chatting calmly while eating. They had then moved to the couch, snuggling up in each other's arms. It wasn't often that Shawn allowed her to cuddle, but the more time they spent together, the more his barriers lowered.

His touch was so familiar to her that now she felt a physical need for it in order to fall asleep at night. Even his mere presence allowed her to sleep more peacefully. Then this stream of thoughts reminded her that she probably wouldn't be able to doze off that well the following night. «I can't meet you tomorrow night» she confided to Shawn.

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her confused. «Why not?»

«I think I'll ask Connor out to dinner»

«And who is this 'Connor'?» he asked defensively. Camila found amusing how his mood suddenly changed and how he couldn't mask his flash of jealousy.

«He's a coworker. We had a little argument, and he made me understand that I acted like a vixen, so I want to do something to make it up to him».

«Wait a second. Are you talking about Connor McMillan? That rich kid who's buzzing around you every time I step into your office?»

Camila tried to hold back a chuckle. «He's not flirting with me, Shawn. He's a friend who helps me out from time to time. There's nothing wrong with that»

Shawn's leg started to bounce nervously, and Camila could swear she could feel his heart rate increasing. He was biting his lower lip insistently, and she had no trouble imagining that he wanted to torture poor Connor in the same way he was punishing his own mouth. «Listen, Camila. I know guys like Connor, I know how they think and what their intentions are. I don't want you to go out to dinner with him» he asserted firmly, with a fiery look.

«Why not?» Camila challenged.

«Because you're mine!». The hand that was resting on her thigh squeezed it more firmly. In an instant, Shawn had thrown himself on her, his heavy and muscular body covering hers, pushing her against the couch pillows. Camila loved his weight on her, nothing made her feel alive like sensing his exciting touch. And yet those simple words had made her shiver with pleasure like never before. Perhaps it was the firmness with which they had been spoken, or maybe it was the impulsiveness and confidence that had pulled them out of his mouth. She had longed to hear them for some time.

Her body was buzzing with electricity. Every nerve, every muscle, every inch of her skin yearned to be touch by him. She wanted him to show her every way in which she was his. She could feel him hard against her core, the few layers of clothes did nothing to disguise his excitement, but she was sure her own desire wasn't probably being hidden either.

Shawn's mouth was greedy on her skin, kissing and nibbing her, surely leaving a few marks where anyone could notice them. With every open-mouthed kiss her blood run faster in her veins, tinging her chest and cheeks with the warm heat that was irradiating from her body.

Her hands had a mind on their own, they gripped his hair and tangled in his curls, they moved lower digging in his muscular arms or tracing the lines of his back. She was quick to get rid of his sweater, eager to be skin to skin with him.

Camila was a mess. By the time he had stripped her from every piece of clothing she owned, she was panting. She felt the overwhelming urge to sink down onto him, feel his every inch buried inside of her, but she knew that that night he had a point to prove.

He grabbed her by the hips, his big hands covering almost her entire waist, and pinned her onto the couch. Standing before her in his glorious nudity, he looked like a Greek god. Strong, striking, statuary. Camila whished she could capture that moment.

And then he was over her and inside of her. His thrusts knocked the breath out of her, turning her into a puddle of moans and gasps. He wasn't hurting her. There wasn't anger in his movements, only the desire to make her his. He laid his forehead on her, staring deeply into her soul. He brushed his nose on hers. He kissed her long and lovely until her lips were scarlet and puffy. «Say you're mine» he commanded her.

Camila was finding it difficult to use her words. «You're the only one that I want».

Shawn shook his head. «No, I want you to say those words. Say that you're mine»

She clenched around him. «I'm yours, I'll always be yours».

At that phrase, Shawn groaned and released inside of her, his hand intertwined with Camila's and his lips crushed once again against hers. His breath was ragged, but his eyes were clouded by a thick layer of satisfaction. He stared at her one last time, his gaze now more pleading and mirroring the tone of his voice. «Please, don't go out with him, Mila» he murmured softly.

It was difficult to keep up with his mood swings, but she nodded nonetheless. After all he claimed her as his.