Page 43 of Veil of the Past
“Show me,” she whispers again, her voice barely audible over the rain. “Show me that you mean it.”
I don’t need any more encouragement. I pull her closer, my hands sliding up her back, tangling in her hair, tilting her head back so I can look into her eyes. There’s something there, something raw and vulnerable, something I’ve never seen before, and it makes my chest tighten with a feeling I can’t name.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, my lips inches from hers. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I was an idiot. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes flicker with something like hope, and I feel a surge of determination, a need to prove myself to her, to make her see that I’m serious. I lean in, closing the distance between us, and press my lips to hers, soft at first, waiting for her to pull back, to push me away.
But she doesn’t. She lets out a soft sigh, her lips parting, and I take that as all the invitation I need. I deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, tasting the rain, the salt of her tears, the sweetness of her breath. She makes a soft sound, a whimper that goes straight to my cock, and I feel a rush of heat, a hunger that I’ve been trying to ignore for too long, ignite.
I press her back against the tree behind us, my hands roaming over her body, feeling the curves, the softness, the warmth. She arches into me, her hands clutching at my shirt, pulling me closer, and I can feel her heart racing, matching the wild rhythm of my own.
The rain pours down, drenching us, but it only makes everything more intense, more real. The fabric of her dress clings to her skin, molding to her curves. Her body fits against mine, like she was made for me. I kiss her harder, deeper, my hands sliding down to her hips, pulling her closer, and she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
She’s breathless, her eyes wide, her lips swollen from our kiss. I can’t help but smile, a fierce, triumphant grin that I know is more than a little wild. “You think I don’t want to claim you as mine?” I murmur against her mouth, my breath hot against her skin. “You think that I don’t want anything more than to fucking tell the entire world that You. Are. Mine. And no one gets to have you other than me?”
She shivers, not from the cold, but from something else, something deeper, something that sends a thrill through me. “You say all of this but…” she whispers, her voice low, urgent. “Your actions are louder than your words, Romiro.”
“Then let me show you,” I tell her before I kiss her again, harder this time, more demanding. Mmy hands roam her body, pulling her closer, feeling the way she melts against me, the way she trembles under my touch. The rain is pounding down, soaking us to the bone, but it only adds to the electricity crackling between us, the heat that seems to burn hotter with every passing second.
Her hands are also on me, sliding under my shirt , up my chest, pushing my wet jacket aside. Hher fingers are cold against my skin but leave a trail of fire in their wake. I growl low in my throat, the sound vibrating between us, and she gasps, her nails digging into my skin.
I push her back against the tree again, my mouth trailing down her neck, tasting her, nipping at her skin, and she lets out a soft moan, her head falling back, her body arching into me. “Romiro,” she breathes, and it’s like a drug, like a fire igniting in my veins.
Her hands slide up my hair, pulling me down to her, and I kiss her hard, pouring all my frustration, all my want, all my need into it. She responds immediately. Her lip’s part against mine, her tongue teasing, tasting, a familiar rhythm that drives me wild every single time.
I push my leg between hers, feeling the way she’s already pressing closer, searching for friction, for release. She moans softly, a sound that I know well, a sound that always makes me lose my damn mind. I slide my hands up her curves, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her throat to my hungry mouth.
I know every sensitive spot, every place that makes her gasp, makes her shudder. I kiss down her neck, biting gently, sucking just enough to leave a mark, and she arches against me, her nails digging into my shoulders, her breath coming faster.
“Romiro,” she gasps, and that familiar thrill runs through me, the rush of knowing I can make her feel this way, that I can bring her to this edge again and again.
“I know, baby,” I murmur against her skin, my lips tracing the curve of her shoulder. “I know exactly what you need.”
I slide my hands down, finding the hem of her dress, lifting it slowly, teasingly, feeling the way her breath catches, the way her hips press forward, seeking more. She’s wet, soaked from the rain, but I can feel the heat radiating from her, the way her body is practically vibrating with tension, with need.
Her hands are on my chest again , trailing over my abs, my ribs, familiar and bold, like she’s claiming me, reminding me who I belong to. I let her push the fabric over my head, tossing it aside, and then her hands are on my skin, her nails scraping lightly, making me hiss with pleasure.
“Impatient?” I tease, my voice rough, my lips finding her ear, my teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
She laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends a shiver down my spine. “Always,” she murmurs, her breath hot against my ear, and then her hand slips lower, brushing against the front of my jeans, making me groan, my body arching into her touch.
“God, Alessia,” I mutter, my voice tight, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her against me, letting her feel just how much I want her. “You drive me insane.”
“Don’t blame your crazy on me,” she whispers, her lips brushing mine, her eyes dark and knowing. “But I like you crazy.”
I laugh, a short, breathless sound, and then I’m kissing her again, deeper, harder, my hands moving with purpose now, sliding up her thighs, feeling the soft skin under my fingers, feeling her tremble against me. She’s so familiar, and yet every time feels like I’m discovering her all over again, like she’s a mystery I can’t solve but never want to stop trying.
I find the edge of her underwear, slipping my fingers underneath, and she gasps, her hips jerking forward, her breath coming in quick, shallow pants. I know exactly what she likes, what makes her lose control, and I thrust my fingers inside, feeling her soak my hand, drawing a moan from her lips that sends a bolt of heat through my body.
“Romiro,” she breathes, and I hear the need in her voice, the desperation, and it drives me wild, makes me want to punish her for being such a temptation, make her beg, make her scream my name to the damn sky.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, my lips brushing her ear, my fingers moving faster, harder, and she cries out, her body arching, her hands clutching at me, holding on like she’s afraid she might fall. “I’ve always got you, Alessia.”
She nods, her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I can feel her getting closer, feel the tension building in her body, but I don’t slow the thrusting of my fingers, instead I press the heel of my palm against her clit, and watch her come undone.
She clings to me, her hands in my hair, her body pressed tight against mine, and I can feel her heart racing, can feel the tremor in her limbs, the way she’s shaking with something more than just the cold. I want to wrap her up, to protect her, to keep her safe, but more than that, I want her to feel this, to know this, to know that she’s everything to me.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I murmur against her lips, my hands cupping her face, my thumbs brushing away the rain and tears. “I’m here, and I’m staying, and I’m not letting you go.”
