Page 57 of Claimed By the War Brute
He moves deeper, inch by inch, until he bottoms out. We freeze, locked in that impossible closeness. My pussy pulses around him, adjusting, clinging. He shudders above me.
“Garrus…” I gasp. “You’re so deep—I feel you everywhere.”
His mouth descends to my throat. “Then feel this.”
He starts to move. His thrusts are slow, powerful, grinding into me with rhythm like tides. Every ridge on his cock drags along my walls, making me cry out with each pass. He fucks me like he’s memorizing me—learning every angle, every gasp, every shiver of delight.
I moan into his ear. “You’re making me feel whole.”
His hand grips my waist, talons careful. “You already were. I’m just… reminding you.”
Our bodies tangle. His cock slides in and out of me with slick, wet sounds. My pussy clenches, spasms building. He senses it. He groans into my mouth. “Come for me, Syd. I want to feel it.”
When I do, it’s violent. I scream, shaking, clinging to him like I’ll fly apart. My orgasm ripples through me, and I feel him throb deep inside.
He buries himself with a snarl, cock pulsing, thick jets of heat filling me. He stays there, still, our breath mingling, hearts hammering.
We lie tangled, his arms cocooning me, his ridged chest rising beneath my cheek. Stars drift outside the viewport—quiet, ancient.
“Peace?” I whisper.
He kisses my temple. “For now.”
I close my eyes, safe in his arms.
“And next time,” I murmur, “I take the lead.”
He chuckles low. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The Vigil’s End hums softly. The war is out there. But in this forge of bodies, breath, and soul—we’ve already begun again.
CHAPTER 40
GARRUS
Irest my boots on the console, the Vigil’s End thrumming beneath me like a heartbeat that finally slowed. Slipstream space yawns outside the viewport, stars stretching into ribbons of muted color. In the past, those ribbons were data points—enemy positions, jump coordinates, kill zones. Now? They’re stories. Constellations Syd showed me: The Hunter’s Spear, The Twin Flames, Hope’s Ember. She traced them into the void with a soft breath and a lighter heart than I ever had. And fuck if that doesn’t make every flash of light feel like home.
My fingers tap the console, sipping bourbon straight from the bottle—tonight, no mixers. The burn is welcome. It reminds me I’m alive. Smarter than I was yesterday. Strong enough to love. Not just survive.
She slinks into the pilot’s seat behind me, bare feet ghosting over the floor like a whisper. One of my old combat shirts swallows her frame, brushes of fabric against her flawless skin. She smells like faint perfume and hope. Sits, drapes herself in my arm, and slides a holo-pad toward me. “Charted our next course,” she murmurs, voice low and steady. “Dowron’s ghost op. Smuggling ring—Coalition-grade weapons. Moon Taraxis.” She smirks—bright, fierce, perfect. “Think we want in?”
I glance down at the holo-grid: Taraxis orbits a dying sun, its surface a cracked, dusty stain. Doesn’t matter. I trace the route: a clean run with glare cover and quick exfil. Easy. Satisfying. Dangerous enough. “Sounds messy,” I say, voice rumbling deeper than the engines.
“I like messy,” she says, leaning in to kiss my cheek. It’s intimate punctuation—small and real. I press a thumb to her wrist then to her lips. “You sure about this life?” I don’t say us—too sentimental for me. But she knows.
She turns, golden eyes luminous. “This life…with you?” She inches forward, resting her head against my shoulder. She breathes. I don’t know how to explain what that does to me. It’s like breathing again after a war too long.
I swallow the bourbon. “My jalshagar,” she says softly, the Vakutan word for those mythical life-bonded partners. Couples who fit like flame and stone. I swallowed hard—because the idea of it destroyed everything I’d ever believed about fate, loyalty, strength. But she’s here, and there it is.
I don’t want to be the first to say it. Vulnerability is slippery. But fuck it. I look at her. “Then let’s keep going. You and me. One mission at a time.”
She lifts her head, lips biting her bottom one—cute, cocky, hungry. “Forever?” she teases, but there’s steel under the tease.
I inhale, look back at the stars, then at her. “Forever.”
She beams—sunrise in her smile. I lean back and kiss her. Not some desperate. But patient, deliberate. A promise. A vow unspoken. Stars blur outside. Slipstream hums. We belong to each other. And for once, I am free to mean it.
When the ship jostles—a mild turbulence signal—I shift and pull us both into one body. She sighs, tight against me. I run a hand through her damp hair, tasting salt and something like moonlight on her skin. It’s unashamed. Natural. Not an assignment. Not a mission. Just…us.
