Page 124 of Veil of Secrets

“Let’s go,” I say, nodding at the door, stepping back.

“Yeah,” she says, falling in beside me, her chain catching the light. “Time to breathe.”

We head down the catwalk, the warehouse quiet, the fight done. The city waits, but for now, it’s just us, blood still drying, hearts light with freedom. Drago’s ours, and so’s the night. We’re together, and that’s enough.

The new penthouse door locks behind me with a soft click, the sound echoing like a sigh of relief. Outside, Atlantic City pulses with distant neon and noise, but here, in this room, everything is different—quiet, private, untouched by the chaos we’ve left behind.

Elara walks ahead of me, her movements graceful but tired, each step measured. Her chain catches the soft glow from the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the reflections sliding along her skin, highlighting every delicate curve. She doesn’t speak; words aren’t needed now.

The bedroom waits, the bed draped in smooth black silk, inviting and luxurious. It’s the only softness I’ve allowed myself for years. The breeze whispers in through the open balcony door, carrying the scent of salt and freedom, mingling with the warmth radiating from our skin.

She pauses beside the bed, turning slightly, watching me approach with a calm intensity. I step closer, a gold foil crown dangling loosely from my fingertips—a token from downstairs, something playful I picked up on impulse, meaningless until now. I hold it up, offering it like a challenge or an invitation. She eyes it, lips curling into a faint smile.

I toss the crown gently in her direction. Elara catches it effortlessly, spinning it between her fingers, the delicate foil glinting. Her eyes lock with mine, holding me still, daring me forward.

With slow deliberation, I lower myself to one knee in front of her. "Queen," I say simply, voice barely above a whisper, letting my gaze slide upward from her bare feet, along her legs, settling finally on her dark, fierce eyes.

She arches an eyebrow, amused but not surprised. "Wrong head," she says smoothly, leaning down and gently placing the crown on my head instead. The metal foil feels cool against my forehead, ridiculous but somehow meaningful. "But I’ll allow it."

My hands settle on her hips, fingers brushing against the thin silk of her dress. The fabric whispers under my touch, and I feel the heat of her body beneath it. "Rule me," I say softly, pulling her closer. "Or let me rule you."

Elara’s fingers trail down my face, gentle but firm, cupping my jaw as she leans down, her lips ghosting over mine. "Then take the crown, King," she murmurs, her voice low and daring.

I surge upward to meet her, the crown slipping from my head as our mouths collide. Her lips part immediately, hot and yielding, tasting of salt and victory. My fingers tighten against her hips, pulling her fully against me, bodies pressed close enough to feel the rapid beat of her heart matching my own.

She melts into me, her tongue brushing mine, deepening the kiss into something raw and primal. My hand slides from her waist, tracing upward over her ribs, brushing the soft underside of her breast through the silk. She gasps into my mouth, a sharp intake of breath that sends a rush of heat straight down my spine.

We sink together onto the bed, silk sheets whispering beneath us as we land, her body arching under mine. My mouth moves from her lips, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her jaw, down her neck. Her pulse beats beneath my tongue, quick and alive.

"Nico," she whispers, fingers tangling in my hair, urging me closer, deeper.

My hands glide down her body, exploring every familiar yet still thrilling curve. Her skin warms beneath my touch, silk sliding easily from her shoulders, pooling around her waist. The moonlight from the balcony cuts across her skin, highlighting the curves I know so well yet still hunger for, casting shadows that deepen the softness of her body.

She pulls impatiently at my shirt, tugging it upward until I lift my arms, letting her strip it from me. Her palms settle against my chest, tracing scars old and new. Each touch ignites sparks beneath my skin, reminding me of everything we've fought for.

She whispers softly, eyes dark and intent, "Touch me."

My hand finds the swell of her breast, thumb brushing the taut peak gently, coaxing it harder beneath my touch. She shivers, her breath catching. Encouraged, I lean down, capturing the sensitive bud between my lips, suckling softly until she arches beneath me, hips rising instinctively against mine.

Her fingers fumble at the buckle of my belt, tugging urgently, freeing me from any barriers that remain between us. Clothing slides away until it's nothing but bare skin pressed tight, heat mingling, breaths matching in rhythm. She wraps a leg around my waist, pulling me even closer.

The crown lies forgotten beside us on the bed, glinting faintly in the moonlight—a reminder of everything we've conquered, everything we’ve chosen to leave behind. Tonight isn’t about crowns or kingdoms. Tonight is about us—bodies tangled, hearts racing, finally free.

My fingers trail lower, teasing along her inner thigh, feeling her muscles tense and shiver. Her breath quickens, anticipation thickening between us. I slide my fingertips over her warmth, feeling her slick and ready. She moans softly, eyes closing, body arching instinctively into my touch.

"More," she demands, voice thick with need. Her hips shift restlessly, urging my hand closer, deeper.

I oblige willingly, sinking a finger gently into her heat. Her body grips me tightly, welcoming and hungry. I watch her face carefully, savoring every small reaction—the way her lips part, how her eyelids flutter closed, the soft flush rising along her throat.

"More," she gasps again, fingers digging into my shoulders. I add another finger, working her rhythmically, slowly building her pleasure until she's trembling, panting beneath me, breathlessly demanding more.

When I finally position myself above her, her legs wrap around me eagerly, pulling me close. Her eyes find mine, burning with certainty and desire. "Together," she whispers, voice rough, beautiful.

I sink into her in one smooth, deep thrust, feeling every inch of her enveloping me completely. She cries out softly, the sound raw and honest, pure sensation flooding both of us. Our bodies move together effortlessly, each stroke matching perfectly, a rhythm built from memory and trust.

My mouth finds hers again, hot and possessive, swallowing her moans as we move faster, harder. Her nails rake my back, leaving marks I'll gladly wear, proof of passion, proof that we're alive and here together.

She clenches tightly around me, signaling she's close, eyes heavy with pleasure. "Don’t stop," she gasps breathlessly, hips meeting mine urgently.

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