(LANCE)
The cliff’s edge was no longer just a precipice; it was our scorched-earth altar.
I didn’t wait for the first round to clear the chamber. As the horizon cracked open in a violent smear of crimson and gold, I spun Eliona around. Her knees hit the jagged stone, and I bent her over the rock face, her spine arching like a bow about to snap. With a feral grunt, I drove back into her—one brutal, bottoming-out thrust that buried my c**k to the hilt in her ravaged, c*m-slicked heat.
The sunrise exploded behind us, a panoramic apocalypse that turned the cream leaking down her bruised thighs into shimmering liquid gold. The wind howled, carrying the scent of salt, gunpowder, and the musky tang of our desperation.
"Sunrise bloodbath," I growled into the shell of her ear, my fingers diggin
