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Shay Cormac x Reader – Inappropriate

Warning – Mature content, basically just shameless smut XD

The leaves had been reluctant in falling this year, bright copper and stubborn reds still clinging to moist branches. You shivered, the watery sunlight failing to break the grey cloud above and bring any warmth to the day. Hugging your arms, you looked to the man before you, mischievous dark eyes fixed with your own. “Just remember we have that meeting on Friday, try and be back for it.” You said finally.

He chuckled for a moment, making your brows dart up. “I'll miss you two, love.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, before autumn sent another shiver running down your spine. “Hatham told me to remind you.” You defended.

“Ah course, well It's unlikely I'll be back by Friday, and if I am, I'm not about to make it known to Haytham, the way those meetings tend to drag on I'll be glad to avoid it.”

“So you're leaving me alone to suffer!” You complained, your fingers curling to small fists of mock anger.

“Maybe.” He shot you a wink, before turning and heading down the stone steps.

“Shay, wait,” you called, following him a short distance until he stopped and turned, “just try and make it back soon!”

He leaned close to peck your lips. “You can count on it.”

“Why don't I believe that.” You retorted under your breath.

“Look, don't you worry about me, lass. I'll make you a promise, I'll be at the meeting...but,”

“But what, Shay?” You questioned, not attempting to hide the doubt in your tone.

“But only you'll know I'm there.” He winked once more before turning on his way again, leaving you confused to listen to the sound of his whistling dull quietly away on the breeze.

*****************

You headed down the hall that Friday afternoon, disappointed that Shay had made no appearance and you had not heard any word on him. You paused before the tall double oak doors, the subtle murmur of voices crept under the door, but you couldn't catch any words.

“Ah, (y/n).” Haytham greeted as you walked in.

“Good afternoon.” You responded cheerlessly, finding your usual seat, next to Haytham's who sat at the edge, and with the empty chair Shay usually took beside you.

“Well now we're just waiting on those damn boys.” Charles frowned.

“Well I know Shay arrived back this morning.” Mr Johnson assured. “And Thomas, well Thomas is probably just putting off coming to the last minute, you know how he is.”

“Indeed.” Haytham nodded, pressing his fingers together as he waited.

A minute or two passed before Hickey bothered to turn up. “Sorry I'm late, gents.” He said boldly, swaggering on over to his seat opposite you and flashing you a small playful wink as he sat down, slouching poorly.

“Well, now we're all actually here.” Charles muttered in a voice that carried enough for everyone to hear.

Haytham began the official business quickly. Deciding Shay may be sleeping off his long trip and no doubt the few drinks he'd 'earned.'

You paid little attention to Haytham's dull murmuring, of course his silky English accent didn't hurt, and the Templar gents were, for the most part, easy on the eyes. But you only had desire for one Templar, and he wasn't here.

It was somewhere between Haytham's talk on 'how training was still important, that you could never be too good, but how easily we can all slip in our skills' that you felt hands on your thighs, initially you jumped, glancing under the table to be meet with a cheeky pair of familiar dark eyes and a finger pressed to his lips, Shay.

You realised everybody was looking for you, guessing Shay was up to something, you brushed it off, pretending to brush something away. “Spider.” You shrugged casually.

Haytham continued.

Shay was pushing up the skirt of your dress, punishing, or rewarding you for deciding to wear one today. Soon your soft garments were hoisted up your thighs, you bit your lip, wondering, and almost knowing, what he was going to do.

You swallowed back the gasp as his tongue brushed over the warm linen of your panties, teasing you of what he was about to do, in a room full of people, oh god, you felt your cheeks burn, but the others seemed oblivious, Haytham continued on about the new weapon shipments he was arranging, and the others all looked eager at the sound of the new designs. Your attention was stolen again when you felt Shay's fingers hook in the lace edges of your panties and drag the soft linen down your legs, you felt the warmth of his breath fan over your thighs and you squirmed in your seat, anticipation bubbling up in your stomach, you felt the roughness of his dry lips grazing your thigh with faint, feather-soft kisses, teasing you as he flicked his tongue over your hot skin before taking a small pinch of flesh between his teeth, leaving a torturous trail of tiny bruises along your thigh.

“Miss (y/n), do you agree?” Haytham was asking, eyebrow cocked in your direction. You felt a warm wetness spreading between your legs, your heart was pounding wildly against your breast bone, and you had to make a conscious effort to control your breathing, trying to take steady, short breaths before you replied. “I think updating our weapons, is,” you hesitated, trying to pay attention to your own thoughts, Shay was worked at an agonizing pace, dotting kisses and nips up your open thighs and back down, neglecting the area most aching for his attention, “essential.” You tried to sound firm and a little dramatic in your finishing point, or finishing word, thankfully Haytham only nodded, before shifting his attention to Charles.

You took a short sigh of relief before you felt a blunt pain, you struggled to keep back any noise of pleasure as Shay bit down harder, making the darkest mark yet on your thigh, it was as good as writing 'mine' on your skin and your body responded in the most helpless way, your muscles clenched and your blood had turned to lightning, white hot, jolting through your veins, making your heart thud madly and your mouth go dry, 'his'.

Sensing that he had pushed you beyond impatience and into the boarder of desperation, he trailed his kisses upwards, and didn't stop, instead continuing to your silky, moist folds, the warm, wet pressure of his tongue slipping between them was enough to make you want to scream, you bit down on your bottom lip, desperately struggling to keep quiet, his tongue began pacing circles around the sensitive bud of flesh, before flicking over it, in quick, blissfully repetitive strokes. You tipped your head backwards slightly, trying not to let your eyes flutter shut, holding back your whimpers and moans. Glancing across you caught Hickey's eyes, he was grinning at you with a look of curiosity, and desperate to snuff any suspicions, your forced yourself to straighten up. “Wh...when can we expect the shipments, Grandmaster?”

He turned to you, the usual look of confidence smouldering in his ashen grey eyes, “Two weeks at the most, miss (y/n).” Your mouth felt dry, facing the grandmaster while Shay was preforming the most intimate, sexual act he could, right there, in front of them all, and they had no idea, the shame, excitement, lust and shock was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and gripping the sides of your chair so hard you felt your nails buckle against the wood and your knuckles whiten.

“Good, I look forward to getting my hands on them.” You managed, lying smoothly, right now there was only one thing you wanted to get your hands on, and it wasn't in a shipping crate on some dingy brig. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of Shay gently pushing one finger inside you, curling it and hitting the right spot, “Ahh....” you froze looking at the confused faces of all the men, eyes now all set on you, your face must have been a brighter scarlet than the ribbon in the Grandmaster's hair. “Ah, but what if the shipments are, um,” you struggled to think of a reasonable excuse for your outcry, your thoughts interrupted by a second finger, pushing slow and purposefully into your dripping entrance, “intercepted by those assassins, you know how sneaky the bastards can be.” You added venomously, wanting to kick Shay right now, but truthfully you were too close to the end to stop things now.

“A fine point, miss (y/n)” Haytham agreed, shifting some papers before him.

“Yes you're passion is most inspiring, my dear.” Charles added, his eyes fixed on you with a sly smile.

Haytham glanced back up. “Which brings me onto the next point, naturally the ship is highly secure, however, I will want us to arrange extra security at the port.” He continued on about arranging protection, but you didn't take in a word.

Shay was pumping his fingers faster, harder, faster still, it was taking everything in you to keep your breathing steady, and something about your slow, measured breaths fighting with your drumming pulse made your body even more aware, every sensation he was masterfully creating was driving you closer and closer to the peak of ecstasy, biting your bottom lip hard to hold back a moan as he switched from lapping at your wet cunt to sucking that delicate bud of nerves, his free hand caressing your thighs, gently squeezing your tightened muscles. He continued to suck harder, thrusting his fingers deeper and hitting the painfully perfect point inside you.

You dared to glance under the table, and the sight of Shay's dark eyes rolling upwards to meet yours cheekily, tossing you a small wink, smirking against your wet skin, his lips glistening with your excitement, it was all too much, and your felt your muscles spasm, all the tight knots being pulled free at once, your body clenched around his fingers as you felt a rush of wetness, the lightening of ardent ecstasy shot through you, making the continued flicks of his tongue almost painful as your legs shuddered, you slumped a little in your chair, the pure bliss of gratified pleasure rose into your tired limbs, you realised your lips was bleeding from biting back any sound, and felt grateful to see the others were paying attention to Mr Johnson explaining some security measures he had arranged prior with the Grandmaster.

Glancing to your side you saw Haytham looking at you intently, and you felt your cheeks redden again when he winked at you. “Charles was right, your passion truly is inspiring, miss (y/n).” He whispered, smirking as leaned back in his chair, leaving you humiliated and somehow, curious....

One thing was certain, you were determined to get Shay back for this, just wait you sneaky little Irish bugger, you thought, feeling him covering your legs with the soft linen of your skirt and petticoats.