CHAPTER 309: (+18) APOCALYPTIC ROMANCE 19

Alvaro worked her through it, milking every last shudder and spasm until Sasha collapsed back against the seat. But he wasn’t done with her yet.

"Mmm, you’re so fucking wet for me," he murmured appreciatively as he withdrew his fingers. Sasha watched through heavy-lidded eyes as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean. "Delicious."

Before she could respond, Alvaro was settling between her thighs, the blunt head of his cock nudging insistently at her entrance. Sasha spread herself wider in invitation and then—finally—he was sliding inside her.

They both groaned at the exquisite sensation of being joined so intimately after months of pent-up longing. Alvaro started slow but quickly found a punishing pace that had Sasha’s breasts bouncing with each powerful thrust.

"Argh!" she moaned, nails digging into his shoulders.

Alvaro replied with a grunt, driving into her over and over until the car rocked on its axles from their vigorous coupling.

The tight space meant he was hitting all the right spots and Sasha could feel another orgasm building fast.

"That’s it, come for me," Alvaro commanded roughly. "I want to feel this sweet pussy clench around my cock as you scream my name."

His filthy words were her undoing. Sasha came with a sharp cry, clamping down on him like a vice as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her. Alvaro followed soon after with a guttural moan, spilling himself deep inside her spasming heat.

They collapsed together in a sweaty tangle of limbs, chests heaving as they caught their breath in the aftermath. Outside, the world may have been ending but in that moment—in each other’s arms—they had never felt more alive.

====

After weeks of driving south, Sasha decided that the apocalypse had a sense of humor — the kind that liked throwing blood, bullets, and chaos at you, then adding a sarcastic sidekick just to keep things interesting.

There was never a dull moment with Alvaro.

Between fighting undead, avoiding bandits, and surviving random explosions, they’d managed to create their own rhythm — chaotic, dangerous, but strangely intimate.

They weren’t lovers in the traditional sense, more like partners who shared everything — food, pain, danger... and the occasional distraction from reality like a hot, searing, sex.

It wasn’t love. It was survival with benefits.

But in the middle of the world’s collapse, that was close enough.

Still, Sasha had to admit — she’d gotten used to him.

He watched her back without question. She kept him alive without complaint. They worked like a two-piece machine — smooth, deadly, and annoyingly synced.

And now, that machine had finally rolled up to its next big test.

The road ended at a massive steel gate rising out of the barren southern plain. Floodlights cut through the dust, sweeping over the van as distant gun turrets whirred to life.

Sasha slowed the vehicle, heart pounding as she stared at the towering wall stretching in both directions.

"So this is the Southern Bastion," Alvaro said, whistling low. "Looks lovely. Real warm welcome."

"Lovely," Sasha echoed dryly, eyeing the rifles glinting above. "You think they’ll let us in?"

"Sure," he said, squinting through the windshield. "They’re opening the gates. See? Totally friendly."

The gates groaned apart, metal grinding like a monster waking up. Five armed soldiers stepped out, helmets on, rifles raised.

"Get out of the vehicle!" one barked. "Hands on your head!"

"Guess not that friendly," Alvaro muttered, raising his hands.

Sasha sighed and followed, stepping into the harsh glare of floodlights. "Hey!" she called out, voice calm but firm. "My name’s Sasha, this is Alvaro. We came from up north — we’re clean, not infected. Just looking for a place to rest and trade."

The soldiers didn’t respond. Two of them moved to inspect the van while the others kept their rifles trained. Sasha watched as one soldier peeked inside — and immediately his eyes widened.

She could see it. The greed.

Inside that van was enough to power a small city — fuel, weapons, food, generators, even ammo crates. To a military outpost low on supplies, it was a goldmine.

Alvaro leaned closer and whispered, "They’re not staring at us. They’re staring at your storage buffet."

"Yeah," Sasha muttered. "Don’t worry it’s part of the plan."

One soldier — taller than the rest, confident stride, blue hair barely visible under his cap — stepped forward. His uniform was cleaner, his boots sharper. The others moved aside instinctively.

Definitely the leader.

"If you want entry into the Bastion," he said, voice steady and deep, "you’ll hand over your vehicle, your weapons, and your supplies. No exceptions. We’ll provide rations and shelter in return."

Sasha blinked. "I’m sorry, did you just say I have to hand over my van?"

"That’s the rule," he said simply. "The Bastion doesn’t allow outsiders to bring weapons inside. Or unregistered power sources."

She wanted to laugh — the kind of laugh that comes before a riot. "So basically, you want everything we own in exchange for... permission to breathe your dusty air?"

He didn’t flinch. "Those are the rules."

"Rules, my ass," Alvaro muttered under his breath.

Then the man stepped fully into the light, and Sasha’s breath caught.

His hair — a deep metallic blue, tousled but neat. His eyes — sharp amber, the kind that could cut through armor. His presence — cold, commanding, and impossible to ignore.

Something in her chest dropped.

The way he stood, the seriousness of his face, the calm menace radiating from him... it was too familiar.

He had Valerian’s face — regal, serious.

Lucian’s stance — confident, almost arrogant.

And Lyander’s eyes — those dangerous, predatory eyes that said: I’ve already measured your worth, and you don’t scare me.

Sasha’s stomach twisted. Holy hell... is this him?

The villain?

The reason she’d been sent here.

The man the System wanted her to find.

She didn’t move, didn’t blink, just stared as her brain caught up to her heart.

Beside her, Alvaro whispered, "You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Sasha forced a breath. "Maybe I just did."

Could he really be the villain I’ve been searching for? Sasha wondered.

Those amber eyes—their sharpness, that unsettling sense of familiarity—were her only clues. And if this blue-haired commander truly was the one, then she’d already made her choice.

She would keep him alive.

Whatever it took.