9. Bruticus

CHAPTER 9

brUTICUS

M aryse's taste lingers on my lips, a sweet nectar that I savor as I watch her body quiver with the aftershocks of her climax. She's a vision, her red hair wild, her green eyes locked onto mine, and her curves begging for my touch. I reach for the scarf binding her wrists, but she playfully pulls away, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips.

"Now I guess you expect me to pleasure you," she teases, her voice a sultry melody that sends a shiver down my spine. "But you've tied my hands, you brute! I guess I'll have to find other ways…"

She shifts, her knees sinking into the soft mattress as she turns to face me. Her eyes never leave mine, and the room crackles with the electric charge between us. I'm hard as a rock, my cock throbbing with anticipation. She leans in, her breath warm against my skin, and presses a soft kiss to the crown of my cock. A groan escapes me, deep and primal, as a wave of pleasure washes over me.

"Maryse," I growl, my voice barely recognizable. Her name on my lips is a plea, a prayer, a promise.

She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. "Patience, Bruticus," she whispers, her voice a seductive purr. "Good things come to those who wait."

Her words are a challenge, a tease, a tantalizing promise of what's to come. And I'm more than ready to play her game.

Maryse's tongue flicks out, a teasing dance that sends jolts of pleasure coursing through me. She's playing my game, giving me a taste of my own medicine. I groan, my hands clenching the sheets as she brings me to the brink, only to pull back, a wicked smile on her lips.

"You're killing me, woman," I growl, my voice ragged.

She laughs, a sultry sound that only intensifies my need.

Her mouth is on me again, hot and wet, driving me mad. I grit my teeth, trying to hold back, to let her play her game. But it's too much. I can't take it anymore.

My hand tangles in her hair, a firm grip that makes her gasp. Her eyes meet mine, wide with surprise and desire.

"What took you so long—" she starts, but I don't let her finish. I push her open mouth onto my cock, a groan escaping me as she takes me in.

Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull back. Instead, she moans, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through me. I guide her head, my grip tight in her hair, as she takes me deeper.

"That's it," I rasp, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "Just like that."

She hums in response, her hands gripping my thighs, her nails digging into my skin. The mix of pleasure and pain is intoxicating. I can feel my control slipping, my body tensing as I chase my release.

I release into Maryse's mouth, a groan tearing from my throat as she takes everything I have to give. The world spins, and I sway, light-headed from the intensity of it all. I look down at her, my breath ragged, as she licks me clean, her eyes locked onto mine.

"Maryse," I whisper, her name a secret on my lips. She smiles up at me, her hands still bound, yet she holds all the power. I'm undone, utterly at her mercy.

"You taste like sin, Bruticus," she purrs, her voice a sultry melody that sends shivers down my spine. "I could get drunk on you."

I chuckle, a low rumble in my chest. "And I thought I was the one supposed to be corrupting you."

She laughs, a sound like music. "Maybe I'm not as innocent as I look."

I reach down, untying the scarf that binds her wrists. She rubs them gently, her eyes never leaving mine.

I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing against her skin. She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed.

I look at her, this woman who has turned my world upside down. She's right. I'm hers, completely and utterly. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

I lean in, capturing Maryse's lips with mine. Softly at first, a gentle exploration, a whisper of a touch. She melts into me, her body pressing against mine, and I can't help but deepen the kiss. It grows hungry, desperate, a fire igniting between us that threatens to consume us both.

"Bruticus," she whispers against my lips, her voice a sultry invitation. I don't need more encouragement. I scoop her up, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the bed. I lay her down, my body covering hers, and I kiss her again, my tongue dancing with hers in a passionate tango.

I explore her body with slow, sensual caresses, my hands tracing the curves of her hips, her waist, her breasts. She arches into my touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. I smile against her skin, my teeth grazing her neck in a playful bite. She gasps, her eyes flashing with desire.

"Tease," she accuses, her voice breathless.

I chuckle, my lips trailing down her collarbone, my hands continuing their exploration. "Patience, love. Good things come to those who wait."

She huffs, a sound of mock annoyance, but her body betrays her, her hips bucking against mine, seeking more. I oblige, my fingers dipping between her thighs, finding her wet and ready. I stroke her gently, my thumb circling her clit, and she moans, her hands gripping the sheets.

I kiss my way down her body, my tongue replacing my fingers, tasting her, teasing her. She writhes beneath me, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I bring her to the brink, her body tensing, her muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap.

I rise up, positioning myself at her entrance. Her eyes meet mine, wide and filled with need. I thrust into her, a slow, deliberate movement that makes her gasp. I hold back, my control hanging by a thread, as I make love to her, my body moving in a rhythm designed to drive her wild.

I kiss her deeply, my hands tangling in her hair, as I thrust into her, each movement bringing us closer to the edge. I hold back, waiting for her, waiting for that moment when she shatters in my arms.

"Bruticus," she screams, her body convulsing as her orgasm rips through her. Only then do I let go, my release crashing over me like a tidal wave. I collapse on top of her, my body spent, my heart pounding in my chest.

I hold her tightly, my arms wrapped around her as she writhes in my grasp, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her climax. I press a soft kiss to her forehead, a tender gesture that belies the wild passion that still simmers between us.

"Maryse," I whisper, her name a benediction on my lips. She is mine, and I am hers. And in this moment, nothing else matters.

Maryse's soft breath tickles my chest as she sleeps, her red hair spilling across my arm like liquid fire. My fingers trace idle patterns through the strands while I stare at the ceiling, savoring this perfect moment.

Perfect. The word sticks in my throat like a blade.

Mother's face flashes through my mind - her final moments, the terror in her eyes. The oath I swore over her broken body echoes in my head. Yet here I lay, wrapped in silk sheets with a beautiful woman in my arms, living in luxury while her killer walks free.

My fingers still in Maryse's hair. The bone spurs along my arm catch the dim light, a reminder of what I am. A half-breed. A killer. A pirate who's spilled more blood than he can count.

"Mmm." Maryse snuggles closer, her soft curves pressing against my hard edges.

The safest thing would be to leave now. Walk away before I drag her into my darkness. Before my enemies find her. Before Daniels?—

My chest constricts at the thought of never seeing her smile again. Never hearing her laugh. Never feeling her touch.

The truth hits me like a plasma bolt to the chest, stealing my breath.

I love her.

The realization burns through me, terrifying and absolute. I'd sooner cut out my own heart than leave her. She's become as essential as breathing.

Maryse sighs in her sleep, her hand curling possessively over my heart. As if she knows. As if she's claiming me, darkness and all.