4. Maryse

CHAPTER 4

MARYSE

T he elevator hums as we ascend to my floor. My skin prickles with awareness of Bruticus's massive presence behind me. His bone spurs cast intricate shadows on the metallic walls.

"Your place is on the right." My voice comes out breathy. "The spare unit's next door."

"Thank you for your hospitality." His deep voice sends shivers down my spine.

I fumble with the keycard, hyper-aware of his proximity. The corridor feels too narrow, too intimate. His scent - like ozone and dark spices - fills my lungs.

"The security system's top-notch." I tap the panel beside the door. "Dad insisted. Military-grade everything."

"Your father sounds... protective."

A laugh bubbles up. "You have no idea. If he knew I was harboring a Reaper..." Heat creeps up my neck.

"Harboring? Am I your fugitive now?"

His teasing tone makes my stomach flip. I chance a glance over my shoulder. His red eyes gleam with something that's definitely not innocence.

"Here's your key." I thrust the card at him, our fingers brushing. Electricity zings through my arm. "The unit's fully furnished."

"And if I need anything in the middle of the night?"

My mouth goes dry. Those rumors about Reapers and their appetites flash through my mind. I squeeze my thighs together.

"Just... knock."

His knowing smile says he catches my meaning perfectly. I escape into my unit before I do something stupid - like invite him in.

My back presses against the door, heart thundering in my chest. His scent lingers on my fingers and I bring them to my nose, inhaling deeply. Ozone and spice, mixed with something darker, more primal.

Focus. I need to focus.

My compad screen glows as I pull up the latest hydroponics assignment. The words blur together, meaningless symbols that refuse to make sense. The quiet hum from next door - is he in the shower? - draws my attention like a magnet.

"Partial pressure differentials in closed systems..." My whispered words trail off. A thud from his unit makes me jump. What's he doing over there?

The compad slips from my fingers onto the couch. This is ridiculous. I'm acting like some lovesick teenager instead of a grown woman working on her engineering degree.

But those red eyes. That knowing smile. The way his massive frame made me feel so deliciously small...

"Oh hell." I spring up from the couch and dash to my bedroom. The contents of my closet scatter across the bed as I hunt for something perfect - not too obvious, but just obvious enough.

The green silk wrap dress catches my eye. It brings out my eyes and shows just enough leg to be interesting.

My hands shake as I apply a fresh coat of lipstick. Is this insane? Probably. Do I care?

The mirror reflects back someone I barely recognize - cheeks flushed, eyes bright with anticipation. I fluff my red curls, adjust the neckline of the dress one last time.

Just a neighborly visit. That's all this is. Right.

The delivery drone chirps at my door. Perfect timing. The cookies smell divine - warm chocolate and butter wafting through the air as I arrange them on my fanciest silver platter.

"Not technically lying," I mutter, adjusting the presentation. "Just... omitting certain details."

A spritz of perfume - the expensive stuff mom sent for my birthday. Something floral and light that won't compete with the cookie aroma. One last check in the mirror and...

My knuckles whiten around the platter handle as I cross the hall. The door sensor blinks at me, mocking my hesitation. Just press it. Just...

My finger jabs the button before I can chicken out.

The door slides open. My brain short-circuits.

Bruticus fills the doorframe, bare ebony chest gleaming with sweat. An obsidian sword catches the light in his grip, its edge whispering deadly promises. His bone spurs cast sharp shadows across rippling muscle.

My mouth goes desert-dry. The platter trembles in my hands.

"Hi." The word squeaks out. "I, um... I... cookies."

Smooth, Maryse. Real smooth. Four years of advanced engineering and that's the best you can manage? Cookies?

His red eyes drop to the platter, then trail back up to my face with devastating slowness. A bead of sweat traces the line of his throat and I follow its path, mesmerized.

"Cookies," he echoes, lips curving into that dangerous smile that makes my knees weak.

"Are you hungry?" The words escape my lips like a secret, barely audible. I've never been more turned on by a man in my life. My heart hammers in my chest, a primal drumbeat echoing the pulsing heat between my legs.

Bruticus's nostrils flare, and I burn with shame. I know he can smell it—the scent of my arousal, thick and heavy in the air. His red eyes darken, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of crimson remains.

"I hunger," he rumbles, voice resonating deep within his chest. "But not for…cookies."

Before I can react, his arm snakes around my waist. He pulls me into the condo, the force of his movement sending the platter of cookies flying through the air. Chocolate chips scatter across the floor like tiny, delicious casualties.

"Bruticus!" I gasp, hands pressing against his bare chest. His skin is hot, feverish, muscles taut beneath my fingertips.

"Maryse." His voice is a low growl, vibrating through me, stoking the fire within.

I'm acutely aware of his proximity, the raw power coiled within him. His bone spurs cast jagged shadows on the wall, stark reminders of his otherness. Yet, I'm not afraid. I'm exhilarated.

Bruticus pushes me forcefully, but not painfully, up against the wall. His strength is overwhelming, yet exhilarating. My breath hitches as his body presses against mine, his bone spurs digging into my soft skin, a sharp contrast to the gentle kisses he trails down my neck.

"Bruticus," I whisper, my voice barely audible. His name tastes like a secret on my lips.

His mouth finds mine, smothering me with deep, hard kisses. It's intense, consuming, and I can't get enough. The minor pain from his spurs only adds to the sensory experience, heightening every touch, every sensation.

His hands, large and rough, grope my breasts through the dress. I moan into his mouth, arching my back to press myself further into his touch. He teases my nipples, circling them with his thumbs until they harden, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

"You're driving me crazy," I manage to gasp out between kisses.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his red eyes dark with desire. "Good," he growls. "Because you've been driving me crazy since the moment I saw you."

His words send a thrill through me. I want this—I want him. I want to give myself over to the hurricane of Bruticus's lust and desire. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word is overwhelming, but I don't want it to stop. I want to drown in this sensation, in this raw, primal need.

"Don't stop," I murmur, my hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin.

He doesn't need any more encouragement. His mouth captures mine again, his hands roaming over my body, igniting a fire within me that I never want to extinguish. The world outside this room fades away, leaving only the two of us, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

"Bruticus," I gasp, as he grips the neckline of my dress. With one swift, powerful motion, he rips it clean off my body. The sudden exposure sends a thrill through me, the cool air against my skin a stark contrast to the heat of his gaze. I'm not scared; I'm electrified.

"You're mine now," he growls, his red eyes locked onto mine. His large hands, surprisingly gentle yet firm, explore my body as if it were a territory he's claiming.

"Oh god," I whisper, my voice barely audible. His fingers trail down, finding the heat between my legs. He rubs my pussy with his big, thick fingers, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. I'm already so wet, so ready for him.

He doesn't hesitate. His fingers slide inside me, filling me, stretching me. The sensation is overwhelming, and I can't help but cry out. "Bruticus!"

My screams are cut off by his mouth as he kisses me hard, his tongue conquering mine with a ferocity that matches the rhythm of his fingers. He's everywhere, consuming me, claiming me. His bone spurs dig into my skin, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that only heightens my senses.

"You feel incredible," he murmurs against my lips, his fingers moving in and out, driving me wild. I can't think, can't breathe. All I can do is feel.

The pressure builds, and I'm teetering on the edge. His fingers curl inside me, hitting a spot that sends me spiraling. I orgasm hard, my body convulsing with pleasure. I scream into his mouth, my cries muffled by his kiss.

His tongue conquers my mouth, his nimble fingers conquer my pussy. I cum so hard that my knees buckle, and I collapse into Bruticus's arms. He holds me tight, his strength a comforting anchor as I ride out the waves of pleasure.

"Bruticus," I pant, my body trembling with the aftershocks. He smiles against my lips, a triumphant, possessive smile that sends a shiver down my spine.

"I've got you," he rumbles, his voice a deep, soothing vibration against my chest. And in that moment, I know I'm his. Completely, utterly his.

Bruticus sweeps me off my feet, literally, and carries me to the bedroom like I weigh nothing. He lays me down on the bed with a gentleness that surprises me, given the raw power I know he possesses. My heart races as he steps back, his red eyes locked onto mine.

He unfastens his trousers, and my breath catches in my throat. His cock springs free, big and throbbing, unlike anything I've ever seen. The heart-shaped tip is adorned with spurs that flex and pulse with his heartbeat. It's intimidating, but god, I want him. I want him inside me more than I've ever wanted anything before.

"Bruticus," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "Please..."

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Please what, little delicacy?"

"Take me," I beg, my cheeks flushing with heat. "I need you."

He chuckles, a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "You never have to beg for my touch, little delicacy."

His words alone send a jolt of pleasure through me, and I'm already close to the edge again. I squirm on the bed, my body aching for his touch. He leans over me, his bone spurs casting intricate shadows on the wall. His red eyes darken, pupils dilating as he takes in every inch of my naked body.

"But I want to hear you say it," he growls, his voice a deep vibration that resonates within me. "Tell me what you want, Maryse."

I bite my lip, a moan escaping as I arch my back, offering myself to him. "I want you, Bruticus. I want you inside me. Now."

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.