Ashes and Fire

The storm outside had rolled in thick and heavy, but inside the estate, Gina and Dave were wrapped in a world of heat all their own.

It had started with a touch. A glance across the hall after a long day of planning, the echo of memory in Dave's fingers brushing hers. She'd tried to resist—there was too much at stake—but when he followed her to her quarters, there was no turning back.

She pulled him inside by the collar, and he shut the door with his back, already devoured by her lips.

Their mouths met in frantic urgency, years of tension unfurling. Gina pushed him against the wall, tugging at his shirt, pressing her body against him. He groaned as she bit his lower lip, her hands mapping the lines of his chest.

He spun her around, lifting her effortlessly, and her legs wrapped around his waist. She felt his hardness, eager and unrelenting, pressing against her heat as he carried her to the bed.

The kiss deepened, more demanding now, his tongue exploring hers with a hunger born of war and survival. She moaned into him, her nails raking down his back as he peeled her clothes away.

He took his time with her body, worshipping her with slow, open-mouthed kisses along her breasts, trailing down to her hips. When he found her slick and ready, he growled in satisfaction. His fingers moved in steady rhythm, building her up, watching her unravel.

"Dave…" she gasped, arching into his hand.

He teased her, pushed her to the edge, and pulled her back, until her thighs trembled and her voice broke in soft cries.

Then, in one slow, deliberate thrust, he was inside her.

They moved together in raw perfection—his rhythm deep and punishing, hers wild and responsive. Sweat glistened on their skin, their bodies colliding in a fierce, breathless symphony. Gina's cries grew louder as she clung to him, legs tight around his waist, nails digging in with each thrust.

He whispered her name, over and over, a sacred mantra against the storm.

Their climax hit like fire. Gina shattered beneath him, and Dave followed, collapsing into her arms with a final, desperate groan.

They lay together, breathless, her face buried in his neck.

"I don't ever want this to end," she whispered.

But fate doesn't wait for lovers.

---

The alarms blared seconds later.

Gina grabbed her gun from beneath the bed, tossing Dave his.

"She found us," she breathed.

"Elara."

Explosions rocked the outer wall.

Davina's voice came through the comms: "Multiple entries. They're inside."

Chaos unfolded. The estate became a battleground.

Dave and Gina fought side by side—like old gods returned to war. Elara's assassins poured in like shadows.

In the middle of the fray, a sharp crack rang out.

Gina turned in time to see Dave stumble, blood pouring from his side.

"Dave!"

He tried to stand, tried to fire back. Another shot hit him square in the chest.

She screamed.

Davina appeared out of the smoke, guns in both hands, eyes flaming. She opened fire without hesitation.

But it was too late.

Gina cradled Dave's body in her arms as his breath slowed.

"I told you," he whispered, blood on his lips. "I'd carry the war for you…"

Then his eyes dimmed.

Davina knelt beside her mother, eyes hard.

"No more mercy."

And for the first time, Gina didn't cry.

She stood, soaked in Dave's blood, her eyes deadly.

"Elara dies tonight."

Far away, Elara watched the fire spread across the estate.

She smiled.

But she had no idea.

The true storm was coming.

And it wore heels, diamonds, and vengeance.