Page 55 of Brutal Union
He doesn’t waste any time as I push up my hips, and his fingertips curl around the waistband of my underwear. He begins to peel the underwear down my hips. His thumbs press into the curve of my pelvis as he slides them lower, dragging the heat of his hands along every inch of skin he reveals. My thighs tense around his wrists, and he doesn’t flinch—just looks up at me through heavy lashes.
Once I am exposed to him, the cold air only making me more aware of how turned on I am, watching a man— this powerful, murderous man—between my thighs like it's an altar to a goddess.
“Shit, Hime…” he groans, voice raw, breath shaking. “Please let me taste you.”
A slow smile curves across my lips as I watch him, helpless in his desire, worshipful in his need. I tilt my hips slightly, teasing him with just the barest movement, letting my wetness glisten under the low light.
“Mmmm…” I moan, dragging the sound out, savoring his restraint. “You can beg better than that.”
His hands clench on my thighs, not enough to bruise—but close. He leans in, lips a breath from my skin, voice lower than sin.
“Please, Nadia,” he whispers. “Let me worship you. Let me ruin my mouth on you. Please Nadia, Ineedto taste you.”
I lean forward slowly, savoring the way his body tenses beneath my touch. My fingers slide into his thick, wavy black hair, and I grip the roots tight, jerking his head back until his eyes meet mine. There’s no fight in them—only surrender.
“Aww,” I purr, my voice dripping with condescension and heat. “Since you asked me so nicely…”
I guide his face toward the wet heat between my legs, dragging him down with control and purpose. His lips brush my inner thigh first, soft and trembling with restraint, before he shifts and finally presses his mouth where I’m aching for him.
The first touch is electric.
I gasp, the shock of it racing up my spine like a live wire. His mouth is hot, reverent, hungry, but still tentative—like he’s savoring the taste of me before devouring it. I tighten my grip in his hair, yanking him closer, wordlessly demanding more.
His tongue flicks out, slow and teasing, dragging along my slick folds with the kind of focus that makes it feel like a prayer. I bite my lip hard, swallowing the moan rising in my throat, determined not to give him the satisfaction—yet.
“Awe,,” I purr, my other hand moving to his face, my thumb tracing his jawline. “I know you can do better than that.”
He growls into my pussy. His tongue working in long, purposeful strokes that make my head spin. I arch my back, pressing myself against him, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he devours me, his tongue exploring every inch of me with a hunger that leaves me trembling.
“Fuck,” I moan, my fingers tightening in his hair. “Just like that.”
He hums against me, the vibration sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I can feel myself getting closer, the tension building inside me with every stroke of his tongue. But I’m not ready yet. I want more.
“Tap my leg if you absolutely need to breathe, okay baby?” I whisper.
He nods, his tongue swirling around my clit in small figure eights.
I release his hair and reach down, my hand finding his nose. I pinch it shut, cutting off his air supply. His eyes snap up to meet mine, wide with surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he presses his face harder against me, his tongue working even faster.
“Would you die for me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, his eyes meeting mine, and I feel a thrill run through me. I release his nose, and he gasps for air, but he doesn’t stop. His tongue is relentless, driving me closer and closer to the edge.
“Good boy. Do it again,” I command, my hand moving back to his nose.
He pushes himself even harder against me, his tongue delving deeper. I can feel myself teetering on the edge, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm me.
“Sho,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “I’m so close.”
He growls against me, the sound vibrating through my core and dragging a violent shiver up my spine. The deep, guttural rumble is primal—possessive—and it only fuels the molten pressure already coiling low in my belly. His grip on my hips tightens, fingers digging into flesh as he dives into me, chasing my taste.
And then hedevoursme.
His mouth moves with precision and hunger, his tongue relentless as he licks, sucks, and drags every ounce of control from my body. I cry out—loud, wrecked—my voice breaking into the kind of sound only he can tear from me. My thighs clamp around his head, but he doesn’t falter. He groans again, low and filthy, like the taste of me is driving him insane.
But he doesn’t stop. His tongue continues to work, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until I’m trembling and gasping for air. Finally, his breath coming in ragged gasps just as I release his nose, my body spent and trembling.
“Fucking hell,” I roar, throwing my head back as he cleans up the mess between my thighs.
