Chapter 23 – Viviana
I guide Dario up the stairs to the rooftop of T-Bone’s high-rise, my hand steady in his. The black dress I chose hugs my skin, soft and simple, swaying with each step I take.
Midnight washes over us as I push the door open, the city unfurling below, gold and blue lights threading through the skyline. Lake Michigan stretches out in the distance, stars glinting sharp on its dark face.
The rooftop’s bare, just as I wanted, cleared of mess. Glass jars with candles line the edges, their flames swaying in the cool breeze. A blanket drapes over a lounge chair, old cushions piled atop it.
I turn to him, my hair catching the wind. “I wanted a place above the noise,” I say, voice clear and firm. “A place that feels ours.”
He nods, stepping beside me, his boots brushing the concrete soft. We sit side by side on the chair, overlooking the city, and he stays quiet, sensing the moment I’ve shaped.
The breeze grazes my arms, cool but gentle, and the candle warmth curls around us, keeping it close, intimate. I feel every breath, every heartbeat, all mine to claim.
I turn to him, his dark eyes catching the starlight. “You’ve loved me in a hundred ways,” I say, voice soft but sure. “Let me show you one of mine.”
I take his hand, lift it to my chest, pressing it there, grounding us, his palm warm against my heartbeat. He watches me, steady, letting me steer.
“You didn’t save me,” I say, holding his gaze. “I saved myself. But you stayed. That’s why I want you.”
His fingers shift against my skin, and I lean in, kissing him soft, like an oath. It’s not hurried, not desperate, just reverent, a choice I seal with my lips.
“Everyone talks about power like it’s a throne,” I say, pulling back just enough to speak. “But it’s this. Right now. Choosing you, not because I need to. But because I want to.”
He exhales, a faint grin tugging his mouth. “You could have anyone.”
“Exactly,” I say, voice firm, leaning closer. “And I’m having you.”
I stand, tugging him toward the blanket. My fingers brush the jars as I pass, blowing out the candles one by one, their flames fading until only the stars light us, and I kiss him again.
The cushions sink beneath me as I settle beside him, the blanket soft under my knees. The city hums far below, a distant rhythm, but up here it’s ours, a space I’ve carved out.
I feel the night on my skin, cool and clear, the stars bright above, and I know this is mine, a moment I’ve chosen, not one forced on me.
He sits close, his shoulder grazing mine, and I feel his warmth, steady and real. The skyline shimmers, a testament to what we’ve walked through together.
“I used to think I’d lose myself up here,” I say, voice low, tracing the blanket’s edge with my fingers. “Above it all.”
“And now?” he asks, his hand resting near mine, close but not touching yet.
“Now I’m finding myself,” I say, turning to him. “In this, in you.”
He nods, a small motion that carries weight. “You’ve always been here.”
I smile, faint but true. “Maybe.”
The breeze lifts my dress, a soft flutter against my legs.
“I brought you here for this,” I say, voice steady, looking out at the lake. “To feel it, to choose it.”
He shifts, leaning back on his hands, his eyes on me. “You’ve got a way of making it real.”
“It is real,” I say, meeting his gaze. “More than anything else.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice low, rough with truth. “You make it that way.”
I press my hand to his again, feeling his pulse under my palm, strong and steady. “We make it that way.”
He chuckles, soft and low, a sound that warms me through the cool night. “Fair enough.”
The stars shine bright above, a crown I’ve taken for myself, not one handed to me. I feel the strength in that, in this quiet, in us.
“I used to think love was a trap,” I say, voice firm, tracing the blanket’s frayed hem. “Something to dodge.”
“And now?” he asks, his fingers brushing mine now, light but sure.
“Now it’s a choice,” I say, squeezing his hand. “One I’m making.”
He nods, pride flashing in his eyes. “Good.”
The breeze carries a faint chill, but his warmth beside me pushes it back. I feel every moment, every breath, and I know it’s mine to hold.
“I’ve spent years running,” I say, voice soft, looking out at the skyline. “From everything.”
“You’re not running now,” he says, hand steady in mine. “You’re standing.”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling that truth settle deep. “With you.”
He leans closer, his shoulder pressing against mine. “Always worth it.”
I turn to him, his face sharp in the starlight, and I feel the pull, the choice I’ve made. “Always will be.”
The blanket shifts as I adjust, cushions sinking beneath us, and I feel the night wrap tight, cool and clear, a space that’s ours alone.
“I used to think I’d break under this,” I say, voice low, staring at the lake. “The fight, the stakes.”
“You’re stronger than that,” he says, fingers lacing with mine, warm and solid. “Always were.”
I nod, a small laugh slipping out. “Took me a while to see it.”
He grins, faint but real. “I saw it first.”
The city pulses below, Lake Michigan stretching endless, and I feel grounded, not caught, free in a way I’ve fought for.
I kiss him, then, soft and sure. When I pull back, my lips are tingling.
I reach for his shirt, my fingers steady as I unbutton it, peeling it off slow, my eyes locked on his. His chest rises quick, dark gaze meeting mine, and I feel the strength in this, in choosing every touch.
He lifts his hands to my dress, pausing, waiting for my cue. I nod, and he slides the straps down my shoulders, the black fabric falling to my feet, leaving me bare under the open sky.
“You’re stunning,” he says, voice low, thick with hunger, and I step closer, pressing my hands to his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum under my palms.
“So are you,” I say, guiding him down to the blanket. The cushions shift beneath us, and I settle beside him, tracing the stitches on his ribs, gentle but sure.
He exhales, hands brushing my thighs, and I lean in, kissing him deep, my tongue sweeping his. This isn’t surrender. This is declaration. A crown made of touch. A promise pressed into skin.
I tug at his jeans, undoing them slow, and he kicks them off, his cock hard and ready. I smile, running my fingers along him, and he groans, low and raw, watching me.
“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling me closer, lips grazing my neck, kissing firm. I tilt my head, moaning soft, and push him back, rolling us so he’s flat on the blanket.
“My move,” I say, voice husky, climbing over him. I shift, turning, straddling him backward, my thighs framing his face as I lean down toward his cock.
“Viviana,” he says, voice rough, hands gripping my hips, guiding me down. I feel his breath hot against my pussy, and I moan, taking him in my mouth, tasting salt and him.
“Fuck,” I gasp, sucking slow, my tongue swirling around him as he licks me, long and deep, his mouth warm and sure. We move together, a rhythm we share, intense and sweaty.
He groans into me, the sound vibrating through my core, and I rock my hips, pressing harder against his tongue. “Yeah,” I pant, taking him deeper, my throat tightening around him.
His hands roam my ass, squeezing firm, and he sucks my clit, teasing with quick flicks. I shudder, sucking him harder, and we switch the lead, him driving me wild, then me pushing him further.
“Fuck, Dario,” I moan, voice muffled, my lips sliding along him, wet and fast. He thrusts shallow into my mouth, matching my pace, and I feel him tremble, close but holding on.
I grind against his face, his tongue plunging deep, and I pull back just enough to say, “Come with me.” He groans, loud and raw, sucking harder, and I take him fully, gagging soft as he fills my throat.
Pleasure crashes through me, hot and wild, and I come, shaking hard, my thighs clenching around his head, soaking his mouth. He follows, spilling thick down my throat, a rough shout muffled against me.
I swallow, panting, and roll off, collapsing beside him, our bodies slick with sweat. The stars spin above, and I catch my breath, tangled in the blanket.
“Fuck,” he laughs, ragged and real, pulling me close. I rest my head on his chest, feeling his heart pound, steady and strong.
“Whatever comes tomorrow,” I murmur, voice soft, tracing his skin, “I’ll never regret tonight.”
He brushes my hair back, his touch gentle. “Then let’s make sure tomorrow remembers us.”
I shift, propping up to look at him, his dark hair mussed, stitches faint under the starlight. “You’re not mine to protect anymore,” he says, voice low, eyes steady.
“No,” I say, softly, pressing my hand to his. “I’m your partner. In this war. In this fire. In this bed.”
He nods, a faint grin tugging his lips, and I feel the truth of it, raw and grounding. The city hums below, Lake Michigan stretching endless, and I know this is ours, a moment we’ve claimed.
The breeze brushes my skin, cool against the heat we’ve made, and I settle back, his arm around me. “This is power,” I say, voice steady, staring at the skyline.
“Yeah,” he says, fingers lacing with mine. “The kind that lasts.”
I turn to him, his face sharp in the dim light, and I feel the shift, the equality we’ve built. “We’re equals now,” I say, voice firm, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Always were,” he says, hand warm on my back. “Just took us a while to see it.”
I smile, small but real, and the stars above burn bright, a witness to what we’ve become. “Good,” I say, squeezing his hand, feeling his pulse match mine.
The blanket’s rough beneath us, cushions sunken from our weight, and I feel the night wrap tight, a space that’s ours alone. “This is what I chose,” I say, voice low, tracing his arm.
“And I chose you,” he says, pulling me closer, his breath steady against my hair. “Every time.”
I nod, feeling that settle deep, a root stronger than anything we’ve faced. The city lights glint below, a map of what we’ve fought for, and I know it’s worth it.
“We’ve got this,” I say, voice soft but sure, resting against him. “Whatever’s next.”
“Yeah,” he says, hand steady on my hip. “We do.”
The breeze lifts again, cool and clear, and I feel every breath, every touch, a testament to us, to this fire we’ve lit together.