Unholy

Our teeth clashed. I moaned into his mouth as his tongue pushed past my lips, tasting of salt and pure need.

Garrison groaned, a deep, animal sound that vibrated straight through my chest. His hands gripped my thighs roughly, yanking me off the desk. I locked my legs around his waist as he carried me across the small room. My back slammed onto the narrow bunk. The metal frame groaned under our weight.

He didn’t stop kissing me. Not for a second.

“Valerie,” he panted against my mouth, already tearing at his shirt. Buttons flew. The dark ink of his military tattoos stretched across his chest, muscles tight and glistening with sweat. “Tell me to stop. Right fucking now.”

“Shut up,” I gasped, ripping my own dirt-stained shirt open. My bare breasts spilled free, nipples already hard and aching. “Don’t talk. Just fuck me.”

He growled and came down on top of me like a storm.

His mouth closed over one breast, sucking hard, teeth scraping the sensitive peak. I cried out, back arching off the mattress.

“Ah—fuck—Garrison—”

He switched to the other breast, squeezing both of them roughly in his big hands while he sucked. The wet, hungry sounds of his mouth filled the tiny cabin. My hips rolled up against him, desperate for friction.

He shoved my pants and underwear down in one violent motion. I kicked them off. He didn’t bother fully removing his own. Just pushed his pants low enough to free his cock.

He didn’t ease in.

He thrust into me in one deep, punishing stroke.

“Oh my god—” I screamed, head slamming back against the thin pillow.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice rough. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in harder. The bunk rattled. “Been thinking about this pussy for six months.”

“Then take it,” I moaned, nails digging into his shoulders. “Harder. Don’t hold back.”

He didn’t.

He fucked me like an animal. Deep, aggressive strokes that forced broken sounds out of my throat with every thrust. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the concrete room. I matched him, lifting my hips to meet every hard drive of his cock, taking him deeper.

“Yes—yes—right there—” I cried out.

“You like that?” he growled against my neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. One hand stayed locked on my breast, squeezing and pinching the nipple while he pounded into me. “Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels so fucking good,” I moaned, voice cracking. “Don’t stop—please don’t stop—”

He shifted, grabbing both of my wrists and pinning them above my head against the metal frame. The new angle let him drive even deeper. I screamed, legs shaking around his waist.

“Mine,” he snarled, hips snapping forward with brutal force. “This pussy is mine. Say it.”

“It’s yours—” I gasped. “Garrison—I’m yours—”

“Louder.”

“I’m yours!” I cried out as another hard thrust punched the air from my lungs.

He released one wrist only to shove two thick fingers into my mouth. I sucked on them instantly, moaning around the digits while he kept fucking me without mercy. Spit dripped down my chin. The bunk frame slammed against the wall with every stroke.

I was already close. The pressure built fast and sharp, coiling tight in my core.

“I’m going to come—” I whimpered around his fingers.

“Not yet,” he ordered, slowing his thrusts just enough to keep me on the edge. “You come when I say.”

I whined in protest, trying to rock my hips faster. He held me down easily, controlling the pace, using my body exactly how he wanted.

“Garrison—please—”

He pulled his fingers from my mouth and wrapped his hand around my throat, not cutting off air, just holding me there as he started pounding into me again at full force.

“Now,” he growled. “Come on my cock. Right fucking now.”

The orgasm ripped through me so hard my vision went white. I screamed his name, walls clamping down around him in violent pulses. He didn’t stop. He fucked me straight through it, chasing his own release with deep, punishing strokes.

“Fuck—Valerie—” he groaned, voice breaking. His hips stuttered. He buried himself to the hilt and came hard, flooding me with heat, growling against my neck as his body shook.

We stayed locked together, breathing like we had just run for our lives. His forehead pressed to mine. Sweat slicked both of our skins.

He didn’t pull out right away.

When he finally did, the emptiness made me flinch. He rolled to the side, dragging me with him so my head rested on his chest. His arm locked around my waist like a steel band.

We stayed in that dark cabin for hours, losing track of time as the generators hummed in the background. Every time the lights flickered, he tightened his grip on me, as if he expected someone to walk through the door and tear us apart again. But no one came. The silence of the bunker was absolute.

It was nearly dawn when the fever finally broke, leaving us tangled together under a rough wool blanket. Garrison’s head rested against my chest, his slow, deep breaths telling me he was finally asleep. His arm stayed wrapped tightly around my waist.

I stared up at the concrete ceiling, fingers lightly tracing the old shrapnel scar on his shoulder. The reality of our situation settled back in, cold and unforgiving. We had survival rations. We had water. We had each other. But we were still trapped three stories beneath a mountain of infected killers.

Suddenly, a sharp, metallic ping echoed from the desk across the room.

I froze.

The sound came again. The distinct electronic chime of a localized communication link. One of the security monitors on the wall flickered, static clearing to reveal a single blinking white text line against a black screen.

I tried to slide out from under Garrison’s arm without waking him, but his grip tightened instantly. His eyes snapped open with full military alertness.

“What is it?” he asked, hand already reaching for the knife under the pillow.

“The monitor,” I whispered, pointing. “Something just bypassed the local encryption.”

Garrison sat up, threw the blanket aside, and walked naked across the cold stone floor to the console. He tapped three commands into the keyboard. His brow furrowed as the text line expanded.

The static on the center screen cleared completely, revealing a live video feed from a high-resolution camera. It wasn’t an external lens. It was a view of the bunker’s secondary vehicle bay, the one directly below our current level.

A lone figure stood in the center of the concrete room, staring directly into the camera lens.

A tall man in a pristine white laboratory coat, completely untouched by mud or red fog. He lifted a small silver device toward the lens and smiled.

“Good morning, Commander Vance,” a smooth voice crackled through the speakers. “I see you brought the specimen right to my doorstep. Open the inner vault, or I vent the remaining oxygen in your cabin.”