Page 47 of Claimed By the War Brute
Her fingers thread into my armor, pulling. “You. Us.”
I answer not with words but with devotion.
Her jacket falls open. My claws are gentle, precise, dragging fabric from her body until she’s laid bare. I look at her. Really look. Skin mapped in quiet constellations of past battles. Breasts heaving, nipples tight, breath trembling. I lean down, brushing my lips across her sternum, over each breast, letting her feel the reverence in every touch.
“You’re more than beautiful,” I murmur. “You’re... fuck, Syd, you’re everything.”
She gasps when I close my mouth over one nipple, my tongue circling, teasing. Her back arches, her hands fisting in the thick cords along my back. I give equal attention to the other breast, kissing, sucking, making her cry out softly with each pass of my ridged tongue.
Her thighs part instinctively beneath me. I slide one hand down her side, across her hip, then between her legs. Her pussy is already soaked, warm and slick andachingfor touch.
“You’re dripping,” I growl against her skin. “You want me to taste you?”
She doesn’t answer—she just nods, eyes wild.
I kneel.
The scent of her—salt, need, something utterly human—makes me dizzy. I spread her thighs wide, claws careful against the sensitive skin. My tongue—longer, broader, textured in ways no human’s ever could be—drags slowly through her folds. She cries out, hips jerking. I anchor her down.
“Fuck!” she gasps. “Garrus—God?—”
I devour her. Slowly. Thoroughly. Every flick of my tongue is deliberate, calibrated. I memorize the shiver of her thighs when I circle her clit. I count her breaths. When I slide my tongue inside her, pressing up against the walls of her pussy, she breaks apart in my arms.
She comes with a strangled sob, her body convulsing, clutching at my ridges, pulling me closer even as she shakes with release.
When I rise, she’s still trembling. I crawl over her, my weight braced on either side of her. My cock is hard—aching—dark, ridged, and different. It presses against her stomach, pulsing.
Her hand wraps around it. She looks up at me. “You’ll fit,” she whispers.
“I’ll make sure I do.”
I line myself up at her entrance, watching her face, giving her one last moment. When I push in, her mouth drops open in a silent scream. My cock stretches her—inch by inch—deeper than anyone ever has. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to go slow, letting her body adjust.
“Fuck,” she moans. “You feel—oh, fuck—you feel like fire.”
Her pussy clamps around me as I bottom out, the ridges on my shaft catching every nerve. I hold still, her thighs trembling around my waist, her nails digging into my shoulders.
Then I start to move.
Slow, steady thrusts at first. Listening to her breath, her moans, the flutter of her heart under my mouth. Then deeper.Harder. The wet sound of our bodies fills the room. Her cunt is slick, molten, gripping me like a vice.
“Harder,” she begs. “Garrus—please?—”
I slam into her, teeth bared, a growl ripped from my chest. My hips drive into hers with deep, punishing rhythm, every thrust coaxing out a new moan, a new plea. Her head tilts back, eyes fluttering, mouth open in bliss.
“You’re perfect,” I snarl. “Tight little pussy—fuck, Syd—I could stay buried in you forever.”
“Don’t stop,” she cries. “Don’t ever stop?—”
I lift her legs, angling deeper. The new position makes her scream. Her pussy milks me, clenching harder, pulling me to the edge.
“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna come,” she gasps.
“Come on my cock,” I growl. “Let me feel you.”
Her orgasm hits like lightning. Her body locks, then trembles violently. I don’t stop thrusting. Ican’t.I chase my own release, pounding into her as her pussy clenches around me. It hits me in a rush—hot, brutal, raw. I spill into her, cock pulsing, buried to the hilt.
We collapse together, bodies slick with sweat. Our breathing syncs, our heartbeats pounding in tandem. I kiss her shoulder, her neck, her lips.
