Page 65 of Veil of Blood

“Harder,” she begs, her voice raw, and I pull out, rolling her onto her back again, her legs spreading wide.

I thrust in hard, my hips snapping, my cock driving deep, her pussy clenching around me, so tight it’s almost too much.

She grips my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, leaving red trails, and I lean down, kissing her, our tongues tangling, her moans vibrating against my lips.

I hook her legs over my shoulders, bending her in half, and pound into her, the new angle making her scream, her hands clawing at my back, her pussy pulsing around me.

I pull out, not done yet, and guide her to her knees, her ass in the air, her face pressed into the mattress. I spread her cheeks, my tongue licking a slow path from her pussy to her ass, circling the tight ring of muscle, teasing until she squirms, her moans muffled by the sheet.

I slide three fingers into her pussy, pumping fast, my thumb rubbing her clit, and she pushes back, fucking herself on my hand, her body shaking. I can’t hold back anymore. I position myself behind her, my cock sliding into her pussy, the angle perfect, and thrust hard, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her back onto me with every stroke. Her ass bounces with each thrust, her moans loud and desperate, and I lean forward, my chest pressing against her back, my lips kissing her neck, my cock driving deeper, faster.

“Rocco, I’m gonna come,” she gasps, and I reach around, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles as I fuck her, my thrusts growing erratic, my cock swelling inside her.

She comes hard, her pussy clamping down on me, her body trembling, her scream echoing in the room as her orgasm rips through her, her walls milking me. I keep thrusting, drawing it out, her body shaking with aftershocks, and then I pull out, flipping her onto her back again, not ready to stop.

I slide down, my mouth on her pussy again, licking up her release, my tongue plunging inside her, tasting her, making her moan, her hips bucking against my face.

I suck her clit, my fingers sliding back inside, pumping fast, and she comes again, faster this time, her thighs trembling, her hands pulling at my hair, her cries sharp and desperate.

I climb back up, my cock aching, and she pulls me down, kissing me, tasting herself on my lips, her tongue hungry, her hands guiding me back inside her.

We move to the edge of the bed, her sitting on my lap, facing me, her legs wrapped around my waist, my cock buried deep. She rides me, her hips grinding, her breasts bouncing, her nails raking my chest, leaving marks.

I grip her ass, lifting her, slamming her down onto me, each thrust driving deeper, the wet sound of our bodies mingling with her moans, my groans. I suck her nipple into my mouth, biting gently, and she gasps, her pussy clenching, her rhythm faltering as another climax builds.

“Rocco, fuck, I can’t—” she pants, and I thrust up hard, my hands guiding her, pushing her over the edge again, her body shaking, her pussy pulsing around me, pulling me with her.

I come hard, my cock throbbing, spilling inside her, hot and thick, my groan loud as I hold her close, our foreheads pressed together, breathing through it, trying to stretch the moment.

We stay like that, locked together, her body softening against mine, her breath hot against my neck. I ease us down onto the mattress, pulling her close, her head resting on my chest, one hand splayed across my ribs, anchoring herself.

Neither of us speaks at first, the silence heavy with the weight of what we’ve done, what we are. Then, softly, she says, “We’re almost free.”

“Almost,” I answer, my voice steady, my hand tightening around her.

She tilts her head up, her eyes searching mine. “You think he’s watching?”

“If he is,” I say, my voice hard, “he knows we’re coming.”

She exhales, long and quiet, shifting closer, her fingers lacing with mine, slow and sure. “What if we don’t find Dino?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I don’t hesitate. “Then we keep burning every piece of him until he finds us.”

She nods, no argument, no doubt. Rain starts against the window, a light tapping that blends with the quiet inside the room. I tighten my hold around her, her body warm against mine, her skin still flushed from our heat.

We lie tangled on the thin mattress, surrounded by borrowed walls, the fading adrenaline settling into something solid, something real.

She’s mine. We’re not done. But we’re real. That’s enough for tonight.

Chapter 23 – Chiara

The sun barely clears the rooftops when I step into the garage. Even this early, the stale smell of oil and metal greets me like an old friend. This place is home now. My home is under these flickering fluorescent bulbs, surrounded by tools and half-assembled engines.

I left Rocco asleep upstairs. He needed the rest. I came down to finish tightening the last bolts on the engine. It ran last night, smooth and powerful. I spent hours tuning timing and checking torque. Now all that remained was one chance to say goodbye to who I was when all of this began.

I pull off my grease-stained gloves and toss them into the open drawer. My palms are smeared with oil and yesterday’s blood. I grab a rag and wipe my hands carefully. The rag smells of machine grime and cheap coffee from the broken machine in the corner. I glance at the counter where I used to write service invoices under the name Clara. The folder is still there, bulging with old receipts no one else will ever need.

In the back of the garage, the radio hums. Someone left it on late last night. I don’t bother to turn it off. I nod once at the engine. “Done,” I say out loud, though I know Rocco will hear.

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