Page 122 of Tristano

Picking up my pace, I reach down to palm her throat. Then I pull her until her back is against my chest, still pumping into her. I can feel her pulse beat rapidly under my hand.

She clenches around me once, making me tighten my hand as I try to hold on to control. She gasps out a moan, making me loosen my hold.

When she clenches against me again, I tighten my hand even more, leaving her little room to breathe.

As she tries to gulp down air, I feel her pussy milking me.

She likes being choked.

The realization hits me like a freight train, making me tighten even more as I spill inside of her.

I can feel her own orgasm overcome her as she struggles to get any breath in. I grunt as I continue to pump into her, watching her face. Her eyes start to fade and close, so I let go, holding her to me as she gasps for breath.

Pulling out softly, I lay her on the bed. Pulling the condom off, I toss it in the trash can next to my nightstand.

Then I cuddle against Serena. “Are you okay?”

She turns to look at me, pure adoration in her eyes. Her hands find her throat making her shiver.

“That felt amazing. I never thought I’d like that, but with you? You change everything.”

I smirk at her. “It’s because we were meant to be. Soul mates.Anima gemella.”

“Anima gemella,” she repeats. “I’m glad you’re my soul mate.”

“Me too. I love you, Serena.”

“I love you, Tristano.”

As she fades back to sleep, I cuddle closer to her.

I finally found the one person who is meant to be mine.

I’ll do anything to keep her.

Epilogue

FOUR MONTHS LATER

“This is amazing. I can’t believe we were able to pull it off so quickly,” I tell Vanessa.

Today we open the first clinic for survivors of sexual abuse, manipulation, or abduction. The clinic has all kinds of resources available for victims. It’s not just for women though. Men can be victims too. This center is for anyone who has been harmed, but its focus is on human trafficking.

“It really is,” Vanessa agrees. “We couldn’t have done it without you. You brought so much to this that we would have never thought of. We are going to make a big difference here.”

With my knowledge of undercover work, I’m training new volunteers each and every day to go out into the world and provide assistance to anyone they think is in need.

It all starts with a conversation. Chatting up random strangers around you. Finding out more about them. Then slipping them a business card with information that can help them get out of a situation.

The beauty of it is that if they aren’t in that situation, there is no harm done, but if they are, the card looks inconspicuous. It uses terms that would be peppered into conversation so that the business looks legit, but the number leads to a hotline to help those in need.

We also have started handing out the tracking patches that the Yakuza developed. They were kind enough to lend us their prototypes so that we can all work together to make them better.

We are still having trouble getting them out on the streets here, but we are trying. That’s what counts.

If even one person takes one, it’s worth it.

If they take it, they are also given a number to text periodically to ensure they are safe. No one is monitoring the data so their privacy is intact, but the tracker is activated as soon as the person misses a check-in.

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