Velvet & Smoke

—"He didn’t kiss her to ask."—

—"He kissed her to see how long it would take before she gave up fighting him."—



Elena’s life was built on control — hands steady, heart locked down tight, walls too high to climb.

But some men don’t break through defenses.

They slip inside them — quiet, patient, inevitable.



It starts with a look across a crowded room.

A stare that cuts too deep and holds too long.

A pull that slides under her skin and stays.



He doesn’t touch her.

Not at first.

He doesn’t need to.



The tension between them hums louder than any words — a slow, dark promise that what’s coming won't be soft, and it won't be kind.



Because once he touches her, it won't be enough.

Once she gives in, it won't stop.



This isn’t a love story.

It’s a surrender — slow, messy, addictive.



And neither of them will walk away clean.