Page 91 of Veil of Smoke

“Fuck, Dario,” I cry, feeling another wave crash close. He spanks me once more, thrusts deep, and I come, squirting hard, soaking us both.

“Fuck,” he groans, spanking me through it, relentless. I’m shaking, blind, screaming his name as he keeps going.

“Come with me,” I pant, voice breaking, body spent. He spanks me one last time, thrusts hard, and comes, spilling inside me with a rough shout.

We collapse, tangled and breathless, his chest heavy on my back. He reaches up, unties the blindfold, pulling it free, and light floods in.

I blink, dazed, the skyline sharp against the dark. His face hovers over mine, dark hair mussed, eyes fierce and warm.

“Fuck,” I breathe, laughing soft, still trembling. “You’re too much.”

“Yeah,” he says, kissing my neck, tasting sweat. “So are you.”

He rolls off, pulling me close, and I curl into his side. My ass stings faint, my body hums, and I feel him solid beside me.

The fire on the horizon’s a thin streak now, smoke drifting thick. I catch my breath, his heartbeat steady under my hand.

“We did that,” I say, voice soft, nodding toward the yard. “Together.”

“Yeah,” he says, fingers tracing my arm. “And we’re not done.”

Chapter 20 – Dario

I lie on one end of a makeshift cot in the church basement, my back against the cold frame. Viviana’s curled up on the other side, boots off, her breath steady as she rests.

Musty stone walls close us in, lit by a single bulb buzzing overhead. Dust coats the old pews and cracked tiles, and the quiet feels thick, unnatural.

Thunder rumbles above, faint through the stained-glass windows. Dew beads on the cracked panes, and I sense the storm brewing, heavy and close.

A low thunk cuts through from outside, sharp and wrong. My eyes snap open—I know that sound, and it’s a gut punch of trouble.

There’s no time to yell. The explosion hits—fire blasts down the stairwell, swallowing it whole, and smoke pours in fast, choking the room.

I lunge, shoving Viviana behind a stone column. Debris crashes down—wood splintering, plaster shattering—and something sharp tears through my side.

Pain sears, hot and immediate. Blood spills fast, soaking my shirt, and my vision blurs, edges fading to black.

Viviana screams—not fear, but fury, a sound that cuts through the roar. Her hands grab my arm, dragging me hard through the haze.

“They found us,” I say, voice weak, legs buckling under me. Smoke chokes my throat, and the heat presses in, relentless.

“Then we make them regret it,” she says, sharp and fierce. She rips fabric from her jacket, binds it tight around my side, her fingers quick despite the burn on her shoulder.

I stumble, leaning into her, blood seeping through the makeshift bandage. She slams her shoulder into a back exit, the rusted door groaning open. Smoke follows us out, curling thick, and I hear a gunshot crack from the alley.

My knees hit the ground, gravel biting through my jeans. Viviana hauls me up, her grip iron, pulling me behind a stack of crates.

Another shot rings out, pinging off the stone wall. I catch my breath, vision swimming, and see shadows moving—Caldera’s crew closing in.

“Fuck,” I rasp, clutching my side, blood slick on my fingers. “They’re fast.”

“Yeah,” she says, crouching beside me, eyes scanning the dark. “But we’re faster.”

I was supposed to protect her. Now she’s pulling me from the fire, her hands steady where mine shake.

Gunfire rips through the yard like a church hymn twisted to hell.

Stone cracks. Glass shatters. The steps outside the church bleed spent shells. My side's on fire, warm and wet beneath the fabric of my coat. I grip the edge of the stone balustrade, drag myself halfway behind the statue of a wingless angel, and try to focus past the ringing in my head.

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