Page 35 of Veil of the Past
She tightens around me, her breath uneven, her nails digging into my back, and I drive deeper, harder, pushing us both to the edge. Her hands clutch at my shoulders, her body arching, and I physically feel her getting closer, her breaths turning to soft, desperate sounds.
We move together, in a rhythm that feels like a storm, fierce and consuming. And then, she shudders, her body tightening around mine, her fingers clutching her bed sheets as she moans, “Romiro…yes…yes…Romiro…” The sound of her throaty moans sends me crashing into my own release.
I hold her close, feeling her body tremble against mine, her breath hot against my neck. Our body’s covered in a sheen of sweat as we breathe each other in. I press a soft kiss to her temple, my hands gently stroking her back, calming her, grounding her. “You okay?” I murmur, my voice still rough, my heart still racing.
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “More than okay,” she whispers, her fingers tracing my jawline.
I pull her into my arms, lifting her gently, and lay her down on the bed, brushing her hair back from her face. She looks up at me, her eyes still a little hazy as she reaches for me, tugging on my arm. “Stay,” she breathes.
I slip out of my clothes, or I should say, what’s left of them, and slide into the bed beside her. She curls against me, her head resting on my chest, and I stroke her hair, feeling the soft strands slip through my fingers. The tension in my body slowly eases, replaced by a warmth that fills the quiet space between us. Her breathing slows, mine follows, and as the world outside fades, I feel something settle inside me—something steady, something real.
I hold her close, my fingers playing with her hair, and I close my eyes, letting sleep pull me under, knowing that tonight, at least, we are safe.
16
ALESSIA
The sheets are tangled around my legs, and I feel the comforting weight of Romiro’s arm draped over my waist. His breath is soft and steady against my shoulder, his body warm against mine. For a moment, I just lie here, still and quiet, savoring the peace that fills the room, the rare tranquility that never seems to settle over us.
I turn my head slightly, catching sight of his face. His eyes are still closed, dark lashes resting against his cheeks. He looks so different when he’s like this, so relaxed, so unguarded. Almost like he’s a different person than the man who walked into my apartment last night, carrying all this tension in his shoulders. I can’t help but smile as I study the lines of his face, the curve of his lips, the scar that rests there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this peaceful.
Gently, I reach out and trace my fingers along his jawline, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath my touch. His lips twitch slightly, and I know he’s awake. “Hey,” I whisper, my voice still a little husky from sleep.
He opens his eyes, a slow, lazy smile spreading across his face. “Hey,” he murmurs back, his voice deeper, a little rough around the edges. His hand moves up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead. “You look so beautiful.”
I laugh softly, rolling my eyes. “Liar,” I tease. “I probably look like I’ve been through a war.”
His smile widens, and he pulls me closer, his arm tightening around me. “Well, maybe a little,” he admits, his tone playful. “But a beautiful warrior, nonetheless.”
I snuggle closer, burying my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. There’s a quietness in this moment that I want to hold onto, a softness that feels fragile, like it might break if I move too quickly. I feel his chest rise and fall beneath me, steady and calm, and I let myself relax against him.
I skim my fingers over the tattoo. Romiro’s breathes coming out labored, his chest heaving. The little blue heart that’s tattooed just over his pecks, and underneath the heart is a barcode. “What do the heart represent?” I ask him, my voice a whisper.
He swallows. “The heart…the heart is a reminder of my past. What I had to go through to be here. The fight, the years I had lost hope to be out of those monster’s clutches.”
I press my lips to the tattoo, Romiro drags a ragged breath in.
“So,” I say, my voice muffled against his skin, “how was your week?”
He lets out a soft chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Chaotic, as usual,” he replies, his hand moving in slow circles over my back. “I had to deal with some… issues. Nothing too exciting, just the usual.”
I pull back slightly, looking up at him with a knowing smile. “Oh, come on, Romiro. I’m sure there’s more to it than that. You’re always dealing with ‘issues’.”
He smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Okay, fine,” he concedes. “There was a bit of a situation with one of the new guys. Thought he could cut corners, skim a little off the top. I had to remind him how things work around here.”
I raise an eyebrow, my smile growing. “Remind him, huh? I’m guessing that wasn’t a friendly conversation.”
He shrugs, his grin widening. “Let’s just say he won’t be making that mistake again.”
I laugh, the sound filling the room, and he joins in, his hand moving up to cup my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “What about you?” he asks, his tone softer now. “How’s residency treating you?”
I sigh, leaning into his touch. “Long hours, a lot of caffeine, and more cases than I can count,” I reply. “But I’m getting there. One day at a time.”
He nods, his expression turning serious. “You’re doing amazing, Alessia. I’m proud of you.”
A warmth spreads through my chest at his words, and I smile, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. “Thanks,” I whisper, my fingers playing with the edge of the sheet. “It means a lot, coming from you.”
We settle into a quiet, uneasy silence, the sound of our breathing filling the space between us. Romiro’s hand tightens on my hip, his thumb tracing slow, distracted circles on my skin. I can feel the tension radiating off him, an unspoken weight pressing down between us.
