Page 12 of Stalker

His smile is pure sin, and I know I'm in for the ride of my life.

"Bruticus," I whisper, my voice barely audible. His cock presses against my entrance, throbbing with anticipation. I spread my legs wider, opening myself up to him completely. He pushes in, filling me inch by delicious inch. My breath hitches, my body stretching to accommodate his size.

He leans down, his breath hot on my ear. "You're so tight, little delicacy." His voice is a low growl, sending shivers down my spine. He pulls back, then thrusts deeper, making me gasp.

His hand wraps around my throat, his grip firm but gentle. A thrill of fear and excitement courses through me. He's in control, and I'm his to command. His bone spurs press into my skin, a sharp contrast to the gentle pressure on my throat.

"More," I manage to gasp out, my hands gripping his shoulders. He smiles, a wicked glint in his red eyes. He thrusts harder, his cock filling me completely. The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure and pain mixing in a heady cocktail.

His grip on my throat tightens slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of adrenaline through me. I'm at his mercy, and I love it. I trust him completely, knowing he'll use my body for both our pleasures.

He leans down, his lips capturing mine in a fierce kiss. His tongue invades my mouth, mirroring the thrusts of his cock. I moan into his mouth, my body writhing beneath him. The pressure builds, my orgasm so close I can taste it.

"Come for me, Maryse," he growls against my lips. His command is all it takes. My body convulses, waves of pleasure crashing over me. I scream his name, my voice hoarse from his grip on my throat.

He thrusts harder, faster, chasing his own release. His cock swells inside me, and with a final thrust, he comes. The heat of his seed fills me, sending me over the edge again. I writhe and scream, my orgasm so intense it borders on pain.

As the waves of pleasure subside, I wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling him down onto me. His weight is a comforting pressure, his heart pounding in sync with mine. I never want to let go. I never want this moment to end.

CHAPTER 5

BRUTICUS

Blood. Screams. The acrid stench of plasma fire scorches my nostrils as I watch her fall again. My mother's body crumples like a discarded rag, her final words lost in the chaos of gunfire and explosions.

I bolt upright, sheets tangled around my waist. Sweat trickles down my spine, my chest heaving as I gulp in the sterile station air. The bone spurs along my arms ache, a reminder of what I am - what she made me.

A gentle touch slides across my bicep. Silk-soft fingers trace patterns on my ebony skin.

"Bruticus?"

Maryse. Reality crashes back. The spare condo. Her perfume still lingers in the air, mixed with the scent of our passion. Her red hair spills across the pillow like liquid fire.

"You were calling out in your sleep."

"It's nothing."

"Come here." She tugs me back down beside her, wrapping her arms around my chest. Her warmth seeps into my cold bones. "You're safe now."

Safe. The word echoes hollow in my chest. My mother wasn't safe. She deserved better than to die on that station deck,gunned down by Daniels' men. Better than to have her death dismissed as collateral damage in a failed raid.

Maryse's fingers trail along my jaw, drawing me from the darkness of memory. Her touch offers comfort I don't deserve. Not while my mother's killer still draws breath. Not while Daniels walks free.

But as Maryse's steady breathing lulls me toward sleep, I let myself sink into her embrace. Just for tonight. Tomorrow, the hunt begins again.

Light streams through the viewport, painting patterns across the empty sheets beside me. My hand slides over the lingering warmth where Maryse slept. Her voice drifts from the bathroom, a sweet melody about starships and distant worlds.

The mattress cradles my body, softer than any bunk I've slept in for years. My bone spurs catch on the silk sheets - another tear joins the collection from last night. The fabric stands no chance against Reaper anatomy.

"The stars are bright, the night is long, but I'll find my way back home..."

Her voice wraps around me like a caress. I close my eyes, letting myself sink deeper into this moment of peace. The scent of her shampoo lingers on the pillow, mixing with the artificial pine fragrance of station-regulated air freshener.

A particularly high note makes me smile. She hits it perfectly, her joy evident in every word. The sound of running water provides percussion to her impromptu concert.

My spurs snag again as I stretch. The upholstery of the headboard sports fresh gouges from our activities last night. This bed wasn't built for someone like me. Nothing soft ever is.

But for now, I let myself enjoy it. The comfort. The warmth. The simple pleasure of listening to a beautiful woman sing.

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