Page 32 of Stalker

"That too." His lips curl into a predatory smile as he steps closer, crowding me against the wall.

His lips capture mine in a kiss that steals my breath away. Not the fierce, demanding kisses we've shared before - this one speaks of promises, of forever. My knees weaken as his tongue traces mine with exquisite tenderness.

When he pulls back, his red eyes bore into mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip. Everything we haven't said aloud passes between us in that gaze. My throat tightens with emotion.

I turn around slowly, gathering my hair and lifting it away from my neck. The gesture feels more intimate than being naked before him. This is surrender, trust, commitment all wrapped into one.

Cool leather slides against my throat as Bruticus positions the collar. The bone spurs press gently against my skin - pieces of him that will mark me as his. The thought sends a delicious shiver down my spine.

The padding cradles my neck perfectly, like it was made for me. Perhaps it was. The weight of it feels right, natural, as if his hands have always belonged there.

A soft click echoes in the quiet room as the lock engages. My breath catches. The finality of that sound, the permanence of being bound to him, makes my heart race.

This is more than a fashion statement or bedroom accessory. His flesh and blood encircle my throat, a constant reminder of our connection. Of his protection. Of my choice to be his.

We've crossed a line. There's no going back from this moment, this commitment we've made without words. And I don't want to go back.

Bruticus's fingers trail a path of fire along my skin, his touch gentle yet firm as he slowly undresses me. Each piece of clothing falls away, replaced by the warmth of his hands, the softness of his lips. There's no rush, no urgency, just a deep, burning need that simmers between us.

"You're trembling," he murmurs, his breath hot against my neck.

"I can't help it," I whisper back, my voice barely audible. "You do this to me."

His eyes meet mine, crimson pools of desire and something more, something deeper. "And you unravel me, Maryse."

His hands explore my body, each caress a silent promise. I reach for him, my fingers tracing the bone spurs along his arms, the hard planes of his chest. His skin is hot, almost feverish, and I can feel his heart pounding beneath my touch.

He guides me to the bed, his body covering mine. The weight of him is a comfort, a shield against the world. His lips capture mine in a slow, sensual kiss that steals my breath away. When he pulls back, his eyes never leave mine.

"I see you, Maryse," he says, his voice a low rumble. "All of you."

I wrap my legs around him, drawing him closer. His length presses against me, hot and hard, but he doesn't rush. He takes his time, his eyes locked onto mine as he slowly enters me.

A gasp escapes my lips as he fills me completely. The intensity in his gaze is overwhelming, a tide of passion that threatens to sweep me away. He moves with deliberate slowness, each thrust a claim, a declaration.

"Bruticus," I whisper, my voice a plea, a prayer.

His name on my lips seems to ignite something within him. His pace quickens, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But his eyes never leave mine, never waver. The connection between us is palpable, a living thing that binds us together.

The pleasure builds, a slow burn that turns into an inferno. I cling to him, my arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body. His gaze holds me captive, the crimson depths reflecting my own desire, my own need.

When the wave crests, it's like nothing I've ever felt before. It's not just physical; it's emotional, spiritual. It's everything. We climax together, our bodies locked in a dance as old as time, our souls intertwined in a way that defies words.

I hold him tightly, never wanting to let go. His heart beats against mine, a steady rhythm that echoes the depth of our connection. In this moment, there's no past, no future. There's only us, only this. And it's enough. It's more than enough.

CHAPTER 13

BRUTICUS

Rotting hands reach for my throat. The stench of decay fills my nostrils as my ancestors surround me, their flesh hanging in strips from yellowed bone.

"Weak," Great Uncle Lari spits, his jaw dangling by a single tendon. "I died with my enemy's heart in my hand. What have you done?"

"I will kill him." The words echo in the void. "Daniels will pay."

"Empty promises." Uncle Lari's remaining eye glows red. "You waste time with a human female while your mother's murder goes unavenged."

The other ancestors press closer, their bone spurs clicking against each other. Blood drips from their ancient wounds, pooling at my feet.