Page 30 of Total Carnage
"Every single day was a test—a war against despair. But I fought, Vin. For the slim chance of breathing free air again. For the hope that maybe, just maybe, I'd find you on the other side."
"Damn, babe, you're one tough woman." His voice was thick with respect, his gaze holding mine as if trying to absorb my pain through his own haunted eyes.
"Guess we're both too stubborn to let the bastards win," I said, managing a brittle laugh that sounded more like a sob. My heart pounded, fierce and defiant, fueled by memories of survival.
We were survivors, Vin and I. Scarred, yes. Broken in places, certainly. But still standing, still fighting. Bound by a love that refused to die, even when death had come calling.
I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees as I carved out the truth of those years spent in the shadows. The words tumbled from me, jagged and unpolished, echoing off the walls of Vin's bedroom. It was a story etched in scars and whispered nightmares, laid bare for the man who'd haunted my dreams even as reality had turned to dust.
"Every wall I hit, every door that slammed shut, it was like the world kept telling me you were gone. But I didn't listen." My voice fractured, bearing the weight of memories too long imprisoned.
Vin's chair creaked as he shifted, the leather groaning under his muscular frame. His fingers curled around the edge of the armrest, knuckles whitening—a silent testament to his restraint. He was a statue carved from pain and perseverance, every line of his body etched with the marks of a life hard lived.
"Raven," he started, but I shook my head, cutting him off.
"Let me finish," I insisted, needing him to understand the depths from which I'd clawed my way back to him. "They tried to break me, Vin. But I'm here, aren't I? Still breathing, still fighting."
He nodded, the tightness in his jaw easing as if my resilience offered him some kind of solace. His eyes, those piercing orbs that seemed to see right through me, held mine with an intensity that bridged the gap of our years apart. In them, I found echoes of my own loss and determination.
"Raven," he said again, his voice soft, almost reverent. "You're the fucking bravest person I know."
The air between us grew heavy, charged with the electricity of our shared history. Conversations faded into silence, leaving only the rhythm of our breathing and the crackle of old ghosts being laid to rest. We were two souls, tempered by fire, finding solace in the recognition of each other's trials. I rose from my seat, drawn to him by a force stronger than gravity. With each step, the distance between us shrank, until I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"Raven," he breathed out, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the quiet room.
"Vin," I echoed, standing before him now, close enough to touch, to confirm that this wasn't just another dream from which I'd wake, cold and alone.
Our gazes locked, and the world fell away. There was nothing but the space we shared, a sanctuary built from resilience and reclaimed time. The warmth of him seeped into my skin, apromise of things unsaid but deeply felt. And in that silence, every unspoken desire hung between us, palpable and insistent, demanding to be recognized, to be fulfilled. I took the final step that bridged the gap between us, my heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to break free. For a moment, we were just two people standing too close in a room too small for all the history crashing around us. But then I reached up, my fingers tracing the rough stubble along his jaw, and I saw the flicker in his eyes—that spark of the same wild hunger I felt burning inside me.
"Raven," Vin's voice was a whisper, thick with emotion, but I shut him up with my mouth on his.
The kiss wasn't soft or tentative. It couldn't be—not with everything that had been pent up inside us. The years apart had built a pressure that demanded release, an urgency that was as fierce as it was desperate. Our mouths clashed with a raw intensity that spoke of lost time and the ache of missing pieces now slotting back into place. His lips were firm, insistent, moving against mine with a fervor that told me he was just as starved for this connection as I was.
I pressed myself against him, feeling the hard lines of his body through the thin fabric separating us. My hands roamed over his back, pulling him impossibly closer, each point of contact igniting a trail of fire across my skin. His hands were just as busy, mapping out the contours of my body with an almost reverent touch that belied the roughness of his fingers.
"God, Raven..." he groaned against my lips, and I could taste the years of longing in his breath. “Fuck, I missed this. I missed you.”
"Shut up, Vin," I muttered, unwilling to let words intrude on what our bodies were saying far more eloquently. I was done talking, done waiting. This was the reckoning—raw andunfiltered—the collision of two souls that had been denied each other for far too long.
Our clothes became a nuisance, peeled away in hasty movements that were part undressing, part worship. With each layer shed, I revealed the man I'd thought I'd lost forever, and he unveiled the woman who'd survived hell to stand here with him now.
When we finally came together, it was an explosion of sensation—a fusion of heat and skin, a symphony of gasps and moans. The world narrowed down to the feel of Vin moving with me, his body a perfect counterpoint to my own. There was nothing gentle about our reunion; it was all-consuming, a devouring need that pushed us both to the edge and over.
"Raven," he breathed into my ear, his voice ragged with the force of his emotions. "You're real. You're here."
"Always was, always will be," I promised, my voice a fierce whisper that sealed our pact as surely as the bond of our entwined bodies did.
In that room, with the scent of leather and sweat mingling between us, we rediscovered each other in the most primal way possible. And as we moved together, chasing the crescendo that would shatter the remnants of our pain, I knew one thing for certain: We were unbreakable. Vin and I were forged from the same fire—tempered by loss and honed by hardship. And now, reunited, we burned brighter than ever.
Vin lay me back on the bed, his lips like flower petals on my skin, gently pressed against mine, then to my neck before opening to each nipple. He sucked lightly at first, taking my breath away, and then he sucked harder, grabbing and kneading my tits, years of want and need coming to a head. I ran my fingers through his hair and he continued down my trembling body. He kissed the small patch of smooth hair between my legs and his moans filled the room. His hands slipped beneath myass and raised me as his mouth spread my pussy lips already wet from his touch moments ago. This was Vin. A violent and hard man outside the bedroom but soft and gentle when he needed to be inside the bedroom.
“Fuck, I missed the taste of you, Raven,” he moaned before sucking my clit into his hot mouth. He ate me slow and steady, stopping each time I was on the precipice, the same old Vin, teasing before pleasing. His massive hands slid along my sides, then resting momentarily on my breasts, fingers pinching my nipples, my back arching, pussy pressing hard against his face.
I came in three juicy bursts, Vin never flinching, never stopping, always about me…always. As the orgasm waned, Vin waited only a minute before turning me over, planting his lips against my lower back, kissing and nipping, his hands lowering, thumbs pressing into my ass cheeks, spreading, his wet tongue exploring the space between. I tensed and relaxed, raising my ass to Vin, raising it high, raising it to the heavens if it meant having him inside me. As he tongued my ass, a finger slipped into my soaked cunt, driving in and out, finding the cushiony spot that would send me spiraling into the abyss of ecstasy. I came again, hearing Vin’s faint chuckle as he sent me spiraling.
“My turn,” I said and slid to the side turning and pushing him down onto the bed, eyeing his erect cock, a sight I never thought I would experience again. He moved his hands behind his head and watched me.
I took his throbbing cock into my hot mouth, the thing pulsing against my lips. He let out a grunt when I grabbed his balls and squeezed. Just because he’d been gentle didn’t mean I had to. I moved my other hand up and down his hot shaft, the head of his cock almost escaping my lips. Almost. As I sucked and moved my hand, I could feel the deep trembling in Vin’s soul, his need to release a volcano waiting for the eruption. I moved the softskin of the head of his cock against the inside of my cheek and he flinched, ready to come.
