The bunker’s heavy steel door hissed shut, sealing the inner circle inside its suffocating concrete walls. Rogue, Aria, Kane, and two of Kane’s hardened riders — plus Emma huddled in the far alcove — were now trapped in a space barely big enough for survival. Dim red emergency lights cast long shadows over hard muscle and soft curves. The air grew thick fast: leather, sweat, gun oil, and the unmistakable musk of raw s*x from Rogue’s earlier claiming still lingered on Aria’s skin.
Aria’s full, heavy breasts rose and fell rapidly beneath her torn tank top, n*****s tight and visible. Rogue’s thick c*m continued to leak slowly down her inner thighs, a constant sensual reminder as she moved. The forced proximity turned every breath into something intimate and dangerous. Shoulders brushed. Hips
