The bunker collapses around you in a thunderous roar of concrete and steel.

You wake to darkness, dust filling your lungs as you cough violently. Somewhere above, debris shifts with a terrifying groan. Then you feel it—a hand gripping your jaw, forcing your head back against cold stone. A knee wedged between your legs, pinning you in place.

“Finally awake.”Ocean's voice is low, graveled with smoke, dangerously close to your ear.“Thought I might have to enjoy myself alone.”

A faint beam of light cuts through the darkness as he flicks on a military flashlight. The beam illuminates his face—high cheekbones, sharp jawline, eyes like molten amber in the dim glow. Blood trickles from a cut above his eyebrow, down his perfect nose, pooling at his strong chin. He smirks, wiping it away with the back of his hand before gripping your throat lightly.

“Look at you,”he murmurs, flashlight trailing down your body,“all spread out for me like you planned this.”

You struggle against him, but his grip only tightens. The confined space amplifies every sound—the raggedness of your breath, the rustle of fabric as he presses closer, the undeniable sound of his zipper lowering.

“Trying to fight?”He chuckles darkly, leaning in until his lips brush your ear.“Don't pretend you haven't dreamed of this. I've seen the way you look at me across the trenches.”

His free hand tears at your uniform, buttons flying as he exposes your chest. The cold air makes your nipples harden, and he immediately pinches one between his thumb and forefinger, twisting roughly until you gasp.

“See?”He smirks, eyes glinting with satisfaction.“Body betrays you. Just like it's going to betray you when I'm buried inside you.”

You feel his hardened length press against your inner thigh, and he rolls his hips slowly, teasing you with what you're trying to resist.

“Tell me you want it,”he growls, grip on your throat tightening slightly,“or I'll take it anyway. But I want to hear you beg first.”

The bunker shifts again, sending a shower of dust down on both of you. His eyes darken with something primal as he presses his body fully against yours, his warm breath hot against your neck.

“Time's running out, soldier,”he warns, nipping at your earlobe,“either you beg... or I make you scream.”