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Predator and Prey A Borderlands Love Story	By : Managus Category: +A through F > Borderlands Views: 54 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, settings or themes copywrited under the Borderlands logo.

Chapter List
- 1-Part 1 A Rough Start
- 1
Introduction
So, you want to hear a story?
Come closer, darlin’. Let me pour you another drink whilethe rain keeps hammering the roof outside. Those big pale tits of yours arelookin’ mighty fine in this low light—hell, they’re practically beggin’ to bestared at. I know that look in your eye—you’re not here for just any tale. Youwant the kind that makes your pulse quicken, the kind that leaves youbreathless and maybe leave those skimpy panties you wear a little wetter thanwhen you came in.
This one’s about love and lust, about loss so deep itcarves you hollow, and about finding someone who fills every empty space inways you didn’t know you needed. It’s about danger, the kind that stalks thewastes and the kind that lives inside your own skin. And most of all, it’sabout why you should **never** piss off a crazy, sexy woman who’s got nothingleft to lose.
So settle in, sweetheart. Let Marcus tell you how twobroken souls found each other in the dust of Pandora… and how they burnedbrighter than any Vault ever could.
Ready? Good.

It all started a few years after the fall of Jack, with aVault Hunter who thought he was too clean for this rock… and a feral littlething who was anything but.
Chapter 1: The Predator in the Dust
The Rust Commons West was a graveyard of rusted Dahl rigsand forgotten dreams, but Steve had made it her kingdom. Ten years of solitudehad taught her every shadow, every creak of wind through the canyons, everyscent on the dust-choked air. Eridium had seeped into her bones—slow, silent,like the planet itself had decided she belonged to it. She felt intrudersbefore she saw them: a prickle along her spine, a tightening in her gut. Mostwere easy. Psychos howled their madness; bandits reeked of sweat and cheapbooze. This group was different. They moved with purpose. They carriedsomething that hummed, something old and dangerous.
Steve crouched on the ridge, short-cropped hair whipping inthe wind, her Jakobs pistol heavy across her knees. Below, in the dry wash,twelve Psycho bandits had set up camp around a derelict fuel depot. Their maskswere cracked, their laughter jagged. One of them held a small ECHO device—oldHyperion make, the kind that might hold coordinates, maps, secrets. Stevedidn’t care about secrets. She cared about territory. They were too close toher homestead. They had to go.
Then she felt it.
A second presence. Quiet. Controlled. Not like the howlinganimals below. This one moved like a shadow with intent. Steve’s breath caught.She had never felt anything quite like it—sharp, focused, dangerous in a waythat made her skin flush and her core tighten. Not fear. Something deeper.Primal.
She waited.
Elias Voss—known to Lilith and the Crimson Raiders as “theclean-cut Vault Hunter”—had been tracking this band for three days. Lilith hadsent him with a simple order: find out what they know about the Vault Mapfragments scattered after Jack’s fall. If they had anything useful, bring itback. If they resisted, leave no survivors. Elias didn’t ask questions. He didjobs. That was the life.
He watched from a higher ridge, Vladof rifle resting on arock. The Psychos were sloppy—loud, drunk, arguing over a crate. One of themwaved an ECHO device like a trophy. Elias’s scope caught the glow of an oldHyperion logo. Coordinates. Maybe a map fragment. He didn’t have time tonegotiate. Twelve against one was bad odds, but he’d faced worse.
He chambered a round and moved.
Steve saw him first—a tall figure in pressed fatigues, rifleslung, knife gleaming at his hip. He moved like he belonged to the fight, notthe wasteland. She watched, breath shallow, as he descended the slope likewater over stone. The Psychos didn’t notice until the first shot cracked—clean,precise, headshot. One down.
Chaos erupted.
Elias didn’t shout. He didn’t laugh. He worked. A burst ofVladof fire dropped two more. A Psycho charged with a buzz-axe; Eliassidestepped, drove his vibro-knife into the man’s throat, yanked it free.Another swung a pistol; Elias shot it out of his hand, then finished him with asingle round to the chest. The remaining Psychos scattered, howling, but Eliaswas already moving, relentless, efficient, brutal.
Steve’s pulse thundered in her ears. She had seen deathbefore. She had dealt it. But this—this was different. He was beautiful in hisviolence. Precise. Controlled. Every move deliberate. Her thighs clenched. Heatpooled low in her belly. She was wet. Achingly so. Watching him destroy themfelt like watching a predator claim territory. She wanted to be claimed.
Then the buzz-axe caught him.
A Psycho he hadn’t seen lunged from behind. The blade bitdeep into his thigh, lodging in muscle. Elias grunted, spun, and drove hisknife through the man’s eye. The Psycho dropped. Elias staggered, blood soakinghis fatigues. He didn’t stop. Three more Psychos rushed him. He shot one,knifed another, and the last fell to a point-blank headshot. Silence returned.
Elias limped away from the carnage, dragging himself to aboulder. He dropped to one knee, yanked the buzz-axe free with a hiss of pain,and fumbled for the injector in his med-kit. His hands shook. Blood pooledbeneath him. He managed to press the needle to his thigh—then darkness tookhim.
Steve waited a heartbeat. Two. Then she moved.
She ghosted down the slope, silent as a Skag in the night.The Eridium in her blood made her steps light, her senses sharp. She kneltbeside him, checking for breath. Alive. Pulse strong. She took the injectorfrom his limp fingers, found the vein, and pressed. The nanites hissed to life,knitting flesh.
She scanned the wash. No survivors. No threats. Just bodiesand blood.
She dragged him to a sheltered overhang, built a small fire,and set up a perimeter—tripwires, razor wire scraps, a few scavenged mines. Shestripped his blood-soaked pants to check the wound, cleaned it with water fromher canteen, and bandaged it with strips torn from her own shirt. His skin waswarm. Clean. She liked that.
She sat cross-legged beside him, pistol in her lap, watchingthe night. Her body still thrummed with heat. Watching him fight had stirredsomething ancient in her—something hungry. She shifted, thighs pressingtogether, trying to ease the ache.
She didn’t know his name. She didn’t know why he’d come. Butshe knew one thing.
This man was like her.
A predator.
And she wanted to know what it felt like to be hunted byhim.
Chapter 2: Shelter in the Storm
Eli woke to the sound of a small fire crackling and thefaint ache of healing bone. His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the dim lightfiltering through the overhang. A small encampment had been set up aroundhim—tripwires, razor wire scraps, a few scavenged mines. Someone had builtthis. Someone had saved him.
A woman stood over him.
She was small, lean, wiry—built like she’d been carved fromthe wastes themselves. Her dark hair was cropped short and uneven, like she’dhacked it with a knife. Her hazel eyes were sharp, watchful, and there wassomething feral in them, something that made the hair on the back of his neckstand up. Scars crisscrossed her exposed arms and collarbone, and crudetattoos—thorny vines, chains, primal symbols—marked her skin like war paint.She wore patched bandit gear: an oversized shirt cinched with ropes and belts,pants held together with more rope. A heavy Jakobs pistol hung at her hip.
She was savagely beautiful. Not in the polished, corporateway he’d known back on Eden-5. This was raw, untamed, like a blade left toolong in the sun.
Eli sat up slowly, wincing as his thigh protested. The woundwas closed, the flesh knitted, but the bone beneath still throbbed with everyheartbeat. He looked at the injector in his hand, then at her.
“You saved me,” he said, his voice steady and clear. “Thankyou.”
She tilted her head, studying him like he was prey that hadunexpectedly spoken. Then, haltingly, as if the words were rusty tools shehadn’t used in years:
“You… fought good. Clean. Strong.”
Eli gave a small, tired smile. “I’m Elias. Eli. And youare?”
“Steve.”
It wasn’t a name he expected. It didn’t fit her at all. Butit stuck.
He looked at her more closely. The markings on her skinweren’t Siren tattoos—no glowing runes, no ethereal patterns. Yet there wassomething about her presence that reminded him of Lilith: a quiet, dangerousenergy, like a storm waiting to break.
Eli pushed himself to his feet, testing his weight. Painflared, but he could walk—barely. He limped toward the pile of bodies in thewash, where the ECHO device lay among the carnage. He picked it up, brushed offthe dust.
Steve watched him, frowning.
“Leave it,” she said. “Bad. Feel it.”
Eli shook his head. “Unfortunately, that’s why I’m here.Lilith sent me to find out what they knew. I need to get it back to Sanctuary.It’s a four-day drive, but I’d better get going before any scavengers show up.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Rain coming. Acid. Bad storm.Shelter near.”
Eli glanced at the sky—thick, purple clouds gathering on thehorizon. He knew that look. He’d be lucky to make it a mile before the rain atethrough his Catch-a-Ride’s paint.
“Lead the way,” he said.
Steve turned and started walking. “No vehicle. Territory badfor wheels. But path… through canyons.”
Eli nodded and headed to his Catch-a-Ride. “We’ll take mine.It’ll be faster.”
She glanced back, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Slowfor you. Hurt leg.”
They climbed in. Eli drove, teeth gritted against the painin his leg. The vehicle rattled over uneven ground, following a narrow canyonpath that twisted through jagged rocks—barely wide enough for the Catch-a-Ride,but passable. Steve guided him with short grunts and points.
By the time they reached the homestead, the clouds wereheavy overhead. Steve helped him limp inside, one arm around his waist, hersmall frame surprisingly strong. The shack was larger than it looked fromoutside—a single, long room with a bed in one corner, a couch in another,shelves of scavenged supplies, and a small hydroponic setup glowing faintlyunder a salvaged bulb. The Catch-a-Ride was parked under a simple metaloverhang.
Steve dropped Eli onto the couch, then moved quickly aroundthe room, securing shutters, checking tripwires, locking the door. Just as shefinished, the acid rain began—hammering the roof like gunfire, hissing off therazor-wire fence like a living thing.
Eli leaned back, letting the pain ease. The bone wouldfinish knitting in a few hours. He could rest.
Steve glanced at him, then at herself. She was filthy—dust,blood, sweat. Without a word, she pulled out a metal bucket, filled it withwater from a spigot, and grabbed a rag. Then, with the same efficiency she’dused to bandage him, she began to strip.
Eli’s eyes widened. “Uh—Steve, you don’t have to—”
She didn’t even pause. Shirt off. Pants off. Underwear last.Naked, she dipped the rag and began washing herself—arms, neck, torso, legs. Noceremony. No seduction. Just practical.
He’s watching, Steve thought, her internal voiceclear and steady, unlike the halting words that came out of her mouth. Good.Let him see. He’s strong. Clean. Makes me… wet. Still. She felt the primalheat stirring again, low in her belly, remembering how he’d fought—like a beastclaiming what was his. I know this feeling. From the vids. Want him to takeme. But he’s hurt. How to offer? Don’t know. Just… be me.
Eli tried to look away. He really did. But his gaze keptdrifting. Her body was lithe, toned, scarred in a hundred places. A large,mottled burn scar covered her right butt cheek—ugly, deliberate. The rest ofher was a map of survival: missing fingers, knife cuts, bullet grazes. Herbreasts were small and perky, a grenade pin piercing glinting through onenipple. Her skin was smooth where it shouldn’t have been—no hair between herlegs, just sleek, defined curves.
He swallowed hard. Focus, Elias. You’re a guest. She’shelping you. Don’t be that guy. But damn, her butt was cute and tight. Hetold himself it was concern for the scar. Not lust.
Steve finished, dried off with a towel, and dressed in her“house clothes”: a sleeveless shirt cropped just below her breasts, and atight, small thong scavenged from a porn stash raid—thin fabric that hugged hercurves, mimicking the skimpy outfits she’d seen in the vids. Like the girls.Sexy. Maybe he’ll see. Want.
She walked over to him, knelt, and began unwrapping thebandage on his thigh.
“Strong,” she said, tracing the new pink scar with afingertip. “Good.”
Eli cleared his throat. “You’re the strong one. Dragging mein here like that.”
She looked up at him, eyes bright. “You clean. Nice. Smellgood.”
Eli felt a flush creep up his neck. He tried to steer theconversation to safer ground.
“How long have you lived out here, Steve?”
“Long time. Alone.” She sat back on her heels, studying him.“You?”
“Long enough. I work for the Crimson Raiders. Mercenaryjobs. Lilith sends me where things need doing.”
Steve’s head tilted. “Clean man. Why here?”
Eli gave a dry laugh. “I wasn’t always clean. Got drummedout of the military. False accusation. Now I take jobs to survive.”
She nodded, as if that explained everything. Then, quieter:“You… alone too?”
“Yeah. For a long time.”
The rain drummed harder. They sat in silence for a while,the fire crackling.
Take me, Steve thought, visions flashing: him pinningher to the couch, thrusting hard; up against the wall, her legs wrapped aroundhim; riding him in the open wastes, rain slick on their skin. Want. Need.But how? He’s… gentle.
Eli felt stirrings of lust, too—less graphic, more a pulltoward her wild honesty. Ever since the false rape charge, he’d been gun-shyaround women. But Steve was different. Feral. Primal. No games. The lonelinessthat had gnawed at him for years eased in her presence. He relaxed, enjoyingthe talk.
Then Lilith’s voice crackled in his head—Siren telepathy,sharp and urgent.
Eli. Status.
He answered silently. Alive. Took down the Psychos. Gotthe ECHO. Sheltering from the storm.
Good. That storm’s going to be bad—lasts at least a day.And heads up: COV’s on the move. They want that ECHO. Be careful.
Copy that.
Lilith paused. You’re not alone, are you?
Eli hesitated. …I’m fine.
She didn’t press. Stay safe.
The connection broke.
Steve was watching him, eyes narrowed.
“Someone talk,” she said. Not a question.
“Yeah. Lilith. The COV’s coming for the ECHO. I’ll leave assoon as the rain stops. Draw them away.”
Steve’s expression darkened. “No. They come. They die.”
Eli studied her. There was something cold in hereyes—something that reminded him of Psychos. But different. Controlled.
And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that excited him.

Chapter 3: Heat in the Shack
Steve finished locking down the last shutter and turned toEli, who was still seated on the couch, leg stretched out in front of him. Theacid rain hammered the roof, sealing them in together.
“Hungry?” she asked, voice rough but clear.
Eli nodded. “Starving, actually. Haven’t eaten since beforethe fight.”
Steve moved to the cooking area—a small counter with asalvaged stove, a few metal pots, and a hydroponic rack glowing faintly in thecorner. She pulled out a couple of ration packs and reached up for a handful offresh greens—crisp, dark leaves she’d grown herself.
Eli watched her work, genuinely impressed. “You’ve gothydroponics running? That’s… remarkable out here.”
Steve paused, mid-reach, and a small, genuine smile curvedher lips. He likes it. Likes what I made. The compliment warmed her morethan the stove ever could. She felt her face flush, smiling wider as sheplucked the greens. Her cropped shirt rode up slightly with the stretch,flashing a glimpse of her small, perky breasts—the grenade pin piercing dangling,catching the light. Her nipples were already hard, aching from the cool air andthe thrill of his eyes on her. He’s watching. Good. Want him to see. Achefor him. Pussy wet, throbbing. Pin sharp—hurts good. More.
Eli’s gaze lingered. He couldn’t help it. The way her buttflexed as she shifted her weight—tight, rounded, swaying with eachmovement—sent a jolt through him. And when her shirt shifted, giving him thatfleeting view of her nipples, pierced and erect, his cock twitched in hispants. Gods, she’s wild. Beautiful.
He settled back on the couch, letting himself relax. Hewasn’t just watching her cook. He was studying her—every movement, every scar,every tattoo. The cropped shirt left her midriff bare, the tight, small thonghugging her hips and barely covering anything. It was obvious she didn’t wearsomething like that every day. She’d chosen it for him. Forward? Maybe. Buthonest. And that honesty made his pulse quicken.
She really did have a cute butt—tight, rounded, the grenadepin piercing glinting as she moved. The dangling ring swayed with each step,catching the firelight. It was wild. Dangerous. And it made him ache.
He let himself fantasize for the first time—imagining hishands on her hips, pulling her close, feeling that tight body pressed againsthim. Tasting her kisses—salty, fierce. Sucking those hard nipples, flicking thepiercing with his tongue. Burying his face between her thighs, lapping at hersmooth, wet pussy until she screamed.
He shifted, trying to ease the growing hardness in hispants. She wanted to be seen. He wouldn’t deny her that.
Steve, meanwhile, was strategizing. Men like when womensuck them. In vids, they moan. Happy. Maybe he’ll like that. She glanced athis lap, wondering how big he was, if she could take him all, if she’d pleasehim. Clean man. Strong. Want to make him feel good. Want him to take me.Daydreams flashed: him pinning her down, cock slamming into her; bending herover the counter, fucking her ass rough; tying her up like in the bondage vids,using her mouth while she begged; even the shocking ones—a group of shadowstaking her all at once, or pain play with blades grazing her skin. Too much?Shock him? But want. All.
Her pussy ached, slick and needy. She couldn’t help it—herfree hand drifted down, brushing her thong, fingers pressing lightly againsther clit through the fabric. Just a touch. Relief.
Eli noticed. His breath caught. She’s touching herself.For me? Gods, yes.
Steve served the meal—boiled greens mixed with rehydratedrations, clean water in metal cups. Eli took a bite and nodded appreciatively.
“This is good. Really good.”
Steve’s smile returned, small but bright.
“Where do you get clean water out here?” he asked.
“Spring. Near. Mineral. Good.” She pointed vaguely towardthe back of the shack. “Hot. Clean.”
Eli nodded. “I could use a wash myself. Leg’s still filthy.”
Steve’s eyes lit up. Yes. Now. She set the dishesaside and knelt in front of him.
“Clean you,” she said, reaching for his pants.
Eli blinked. “Oh—uh, I can manage—”
But she was already undoing his belt, tugging his pants downcarefully over the bandaged thigh. He let her, figuring she meant his leg.Miscommunication. He’d correct her if it went too far.
Steve focused on his bulge, her breath catching as she sawthe outline through his boxers. Big. Hard. She started cleaning hislegs—slow, thorough strokes of the damp rag up his calves, his thighs. Higher.Higher.
Eli’s breath hitched. He watched her, saw the way her hipsshifted, grinding slightly against nothing. She was nervous, excited, moaningsoftly under her breath. He realized she wasn’t just cleaning his leg.
And he wasn’t going to stop her.
If she wanted this, he wouldn’t deny her. It was clear shewas choosing it. No coercion. No advantage taken.
Steve’s hands slid higher, brushing over his bulge. Shecaressed him through the fabric, tentative at first, then bolder—stroking,cupping, just like the women in the vids. Eli groaned, low and rough.
She moaned in response, hips rocking. Yes. Like that. Helikes. She leaned down, nose brushing the fabric, inhaling deeply. Hisscent—clean sweat, musk, man—flooded her senses. She pressed her face againsthim, kissing the outline of his cock through the boxers.
Eli’s hand moved to her head—gentle, guiding, not forcing.He let her set the pace, but he couldn’t help grinding slightly against herface, letting her feel how hard he was.
Steve’s mind went blank—higher thoughts dissolving into rawneed. She kissed again, harder, open-mouthed, tasting the fabric. Her handsgripped the waistband of his boxers, tugging slowly downward.
Chapter 4: The Storm Inside
Steve’s fingers hooked the waistband of Eli’s boxers andtugged them down. His cock sprang free—thick, veined, standing proud and hardagainst his stomach, the skin flushed a deep, heated pink with a glossy bead ofprecum crowning the smooth, swollen head. The musky scent of his arousal hither immediately, salty and masculine, mingling with the faint metallic tang ofhis sweat-soaked skin. Not monstrously long, but girthy enough to make herbreath catch, the shaft pulsing faintly with his heartbeat like a living thingeager for her touch. This. This is what I need. Inside me. Filling me.Claiming me. Her pussy clenched at the thought, slick and aching, the sharptug of the grenade pin through her hardened nipple sending jolts of electricpleasure straight to her core.
She reached out, almost reverently, her scarred fingerswrapping around the base. The heat of him seared her palm, velvet-soft skinover unyielding steel, the veins ridged under her touch like warm cords beggingto be traced. She leaned in and began with soft kisses—slow, worshipful pressesof her lips along the entire length, from the warm, wrinkled base to the silkytip. Then lower, nuzzling his balls, inhaling deeply. His musk enveloped herlike a fog—clean sweat, raw masculinity, the scent of a predator that made herhead spin and her clit throb with insistent pulses. It drove her wild, feral,primal. Her hips rocked without thinking, grinding against the air, the cooldraft in the shack teasing her exposed skin and making her thong cling wetly toher folds. Want. Need. More. It took everything to stay focused onpleasing him, the taste of his skin salty on her tongue, the faint tremble ofhis thighs under her hands.
Eli’s hand settled on her cropped hair, fingers gentlygripping the short, rough strands, the calluses on his palm scraping lightlyagainst her scalp. He didn’t push or pull—just held her there, letting her knowhe wanted it, loved it. The simple touch sent sparks through her, her nipplespeaking harder against the air, the pin’s metal cold and biting in contrast toher flushed skin.
She kissed her way back up and took the tip into her mouth,tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles around the head, savoring thesalty-sweet burst of precum that coated her taste buds. Eli moaned, low andragged, his hips twitching, the sound vibrating through his body and into herslike thunder in the distance. Watching her—small, scarred, fierce—worship hiscock like it was the only thing in the world was the most beautiful, eroticsight he’d ever seen. The firelight danced on her tattoos, highlighting thethorny vines curling over her skin, and the way her lips stretched around him,glossy with saliva, made his balls tighten. It had been years since anyonetouched him like this, the warmth of her mouth a velvet vice that pulled at himdeeper than any fleeting encounter. Hell, the high-end prostitutes on Eden-5had never been this attentive, this hungry—their touches mechanical, hers alivewith raw need. She was devouring him with her eyes, her mouth, her whole being,the soft hum of her moans sending vibrations straight to his core.
Emboldened, Steve opened wider and slid down, relaxing herthroat. No gag reflex—just warm, wet heat enveloping him. His thicknessstretched her lips taut, bulged her throat visibly as she took most of him,nose brushing the coarse hair at his base, the scent overwhelming now, thickand heady. Her jaw ached deliciously from the girth, saliva dribbling down herchin, but the fullness made her pussy drip, soaking her thighs.
Eli’s control snapped. “Steve—stop. Gods, stop.”
She pulled off with a wet pop, confusion and hurt flashingin her eyes, the cool air hitting her saliva-slick lips like a shock. Did Ido wrong? Not good? The taste of him lingered on her tongue, salty andaddictive, her mouth feeling empty without him.
Before she could speak, Eli grabbed her hips—strong handslifting her tiny frame like she weighed nothing, his fingers digging into herscarred skin with just enough pressure to bruise deliciously—and spun heraround. He positioned her over his face in a 69, her knees straddling hisshoulders, the rough fabric of the couch scratching her shins. With a growlthat rumbled through his chest, he hooked his fingers in the rotten strings ofher thong and ripped them clean off. The fabric tore with a satisfying snap,the sudden exposure making her gasp as cool air kissed her swollen, drippingslit.
Her smooth, swollen folds hovered inches from his mouth—pinkand glistening, lips parted and slick with her arousal, the musky-sweet scentof her need filling his nostrils like an intoxicating perfume. He dove inwithout hesitation, tongue plunging deep inside her, the flavor exploding onhis taste buds—tart, honeyed, utterly addictive. He lapped at her greedily,sucking her clit between his lips, the soft folds yielding under his mouth ashe explored every crease, every sensitive inch.
Steve cried out, the sudden strength of his grip thrillingher to her core, his rough stubble scraping her inner thighs like sandpaper onsilk. Yes! Taking me. Ripping. Savage. The wet sounds of his tonguefilled the shack—slurping, sucking—mingling with her gasps and the rain’srelentless drum. She forgot everything—her plan to please him, the vids, theworld outside. All that existed was his tongue fucking her, lapping her clitwith firm strokes that sent fire through her veins, sucking her folds until herlegs trembled. She ground down hard on his face, hips rolling instinctively,smearing her juices across his lips and chin, chasing the pleasure that builtlike a storm inside her. Her body convulsed, pussy clenching around hisinvading tongue as she came—hard, sudden, screaming into the air, her releaseflooding his mouth in hot, tangy waves. The metallic bite of the pin againsther heaving breast amplified every shudder, her asshole winking with eachpulse, the scent of her own arousal thick in the air.
Eli felt every pulse, every contraction, watching her bodyshudder above him—the way her tight entrance fluttered, her juices coating hisface in a glossy sheen. He drank her down, groaning into her flesh, thevibrations buzzing against her oversensitive clit.
Steve collapsed forward, panting, her face inches from hisstill-hard cock, the heat of it radiating against her cheek. Instinct tookover—she took him back into her mouth, sucking lazily, licking the shaft withbroad, flat strokes of her tongue, more out of primal need than focus. Thesalty residue of his precum mixed with her saliva, her lips swollen andtingling from the stretch. Her mind was blissfully blank, drunk on the orgasm,the taste of him grounding her.
Eli laid his head back on the couch, letting her recover.The pain in his leg was gone, drowned out by pleasure—the velvet warmth of hermouth, the lingering taste of her on his lips. Gods, he wanted to flip her overand fuck her senseless, bury himself deep and pound until they both broke—theslick heat of her pussy clenching around him, her moans vibrating through hiscock. But his leg wouldn’t let him. Not yet.
Steve recovered fast—her small body resilient, fueled byEridium and lust. She lifted her head, eyes glazed but hungry.
“Need you… inside,” she rasped, her voice hoarse from cries.
She shifted, straddling his hips, grinding her soaked pussyalong his length—coating him in her slickness, the friction sending sparks upher spine, her clit dragging against his veined shaft with delicious pressure.The air between them was thick with their mingled scents—sweat, arousal, thefaint ozone of the storm outside. Then she rose up on her knees, positioned thethick head at her entrance—the heat of him teasing her folds—and sank downslowly. A long, broken moan escaped her as he stretched her open, inch by inch,the burn of his girth filling her completely, her inner walls gripping him likea vice until she bottomed out—his entire cock buried in her tight heat,pressing against spots that made stars burst behind her eyes.
Eli groaned, hands gripping her hips, fingers sinking intoher scarred flesh. “You’re so small… how did you take all of me?” The wordscame out breathless, his cock twitching inside her at the impossible tightness,her wetness dripping down his balls.
Steve beamed at the compliment, face lighting up with purejoy, her pussy fluttering around him in response. She started rocking—gentle atfirst, savoring the fullness, the way his thickness rubbed every sensitiveridge inside her, the drag of him against her walls sending shivers throughher. Then faster, confidence blooming. She lifted and slammed down, breastsbouncing with each impact, grenade pin jingling like a bell, her moans growinglouder, wilder—the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the shack, her arousalcoating his thighs.
Eli’s orgasm built fast, a coiling heat in his groin. Hepulled her down to his chest, kissing her hard—passionate, claiming, his tongueinvading her mouth with the taste of her own juices still on his lips. Shekissed back with feral hunger, teeth nipping his lower lip, tongue battling hisin a slick, heated dance. One of his hands tangled in her hair, tugging justenough to sting deliciously; the other squeezed her scarred butt, fingersdigging in as he thrust up into her, meeting her rhythm with sharp, deep snapsof his hips.
He came with a deep groan, cock pulsing as he filled herpussy with hot, thick spurts—the sensation of his release flooding her, warmand sticky, triggering Steve again. She shattered around him, walls milking himgreedily, crying out into his mouth as waves of pleasure crashed throughher—her body quaking, nipples scraping against his chest, the pin’s biteamplifying every tremor.
They collapsed together, panting, slick with sweat and theirmingled fluids. Steve’s tiny body lay sprawled across his chest, exhausted andutterly content, almost drunk on lust and closeness, her pussy still twitchingaround his softening cock, the warmth of his seed leaking out. Eli held herclose, one hand stroking her back, the other resting on her ass, the rain’srelentless roar outside a distant lullaby.
Outside, the acid rain continued to pour, sealing them intheir own world.

Chapter 5: After the Rain
Steve dozed on Eli’s chest, her small body rising andfalling with his steady breathing. The fire had died to embers, leaving theshack warm and quiet except for the relentless drum of acid rain on the roof.Eli lay awake a little longer, one hand resting on her back, the other tangledin her short hair. His cock, still half-hard inside her, slowly softened untilit slipped free with a soft, wet sound. A warm trickle followed—his seedleaking out of her, sliding down her thigh in slow, sticky trails.
The thought occurred to him: she might not have anything toprevent pregnancy. No pills, no implants, nothing out here. He made a mentalnote to talk to her about it later. She hadn’t seemed to care, but she was soferal, so primal—did she even understand the risk? Or did she want it? The ideashould have alarmed him more than it did. Instead, a strange warmth settled inhis chest. He already knew this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. He wantedmore—more of her, more of this.
The rain droned on. Eli closed his eyes and let sleep takehim, Steve’s weight a comforting anchor.
Steve woke first. She lifted her head, still straddling him,and looked down at Eli’s sleeping face. His breath was even, calm, the lines oftension smoothed from his brow. She ran her palm over his chest, feeling thefirm muscle beneath, the coarse hair that tickled her fingers like dry grass.She traced the line of his jaw, the faint stubble, the strong curve of hischeekbone. The scent of her own juices still lingered on his face, musky andsweet. Mine, she thought, a possessive thrill curling through her. Markedhim. Mine.
She slipped off him carefully, noticing the pink scar on histhigh—already fading, but still visible. The rain was still going strongoutside. Between her legs, she felt the stickiness—his cum leaking down herthighs. Curious, she reached down and gathered a little on her fingers, thenbrought it to her lips. Salty, musty, a mix of her own flavor and his. Shelicked again, savoring it. The taste sent a fresh pulse of arousal through her.Want to taste him direct. From the source.
She cleaned herself up, wiping between her thighs with adamp rag, then dressed in oversized shorts belted with soft rope—practical, butstill loose enough to move. She knelt beside the couch, watching Eli sleep. Hissoft cock lay against his thigh, still sticky with their combined fluids. Shewarmed some water on the stove, then gently washed him—slow strokes with therag, careful not to wake him. His cock twitched under her touch, thickeningagain as blood flowed back. Eli moaned softly in his sleep, hips shifting.
Steve smiled to herself. He likes. She took him intoher mouth again, suckling gently, exploring. This time it wasn’t about pleasinghim—it was curiosity. She traced the veins with her tongue, felt the weight ofhis balls in her palm, rolled them lightly. She spent nearly an hour like that—bringinghim hard with her hands and mouth, then letting him soften, repeating thecycle, fascinated by how he responded even in sleep. Her free hand slipped intoher shorts, absently rubbing her clit in slow circles, the slick frictioneasing the lingering ache between her legs.
Eli woke to the sensation of her finger poking his softcock, curious and gentle. He laughed, low and warm.
“You’re relentless,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
Steve looked up, eyes bright. She helped him pull his boxersback on, then watched as he sat up, wincing slightly at the ache in his leg.
He picked up his pants—the blood-soaked hole still there—andborrowed a rag and water to clean the worst of it. Then he pulled out a smallsewing kit from his pack and began stitching the tear closed, needle flashingin the dim light.
Steve watched, fascinated. The way he worked the thread,precise and patient, was mesmerizing. She sat cross-legged beside him, chin onher knees.
“How did you end up out here in the middle of nowhere?” Eliasked, glancing at her as he threaded the needle. “It’s not exactly hospitableterritory.”
Steve hesitated, her fingers absently tracing patterns onher thigh. Does he really want to know? Or just talking? She worried,like any young woman might—did he like her enough to care, or was this justpassing time? “Raised here. Parents… Psychos killed. Long time ago. Alonesince.”
Eli’s hands paused. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.How do you survive? Hunt? Trade?”
“Hunt,” she said, her voice gaining a bit more strength.“Psychos, bandits—come near home. Kill them. Take what they have.”
Eli nodded, tying off a stitch. “Sounds dangerous. But youseem to handle it well. You’ve built something real here—the hydroponics, thedefenses. It’s impressive.”
Steve’s chest warmed at the praise. He likes me. ThinksI’m strong. But doubt crept in. But does he like me enough to stay? Orjust for now?
Eli finished cleaning the blood and resumed stitching. “Mystory’s not so different in some ways. Back on Eden-5, I was a lieutenant inthe planetary defense force. Good life, or so I thought. Then I got involvedwith this woman—the wife of a Hyperion exec. It was consensual, passionateeven, but when her husband found out, he couldn’t handle the embarrassment. Sohe accused me of rape to save face. They couldn’t convict me—lack ofevidence—but they drummed me out with a dishonorable discharge instead of prisontime. Even gave me a one-way ticket off-world, straight to Pandora. Banished mefrom my home, but in a twisted way, it was a chance to start over. No stigmafollowing me here, just the wastes.”
Steve tilted her head. “Should’ve killed them. You strong.Powerful.”
Eli chuckled softly. “Maybe. But I’m not built that way. Itry to hold onto some sense of honor, even out here.”
She frowned, then said, “Why believe you? Rape false?”
Eli looked at her steadily. “You do?”
“You too strong to need rape,” she said simply. “Any womanfoolish not to offer herself. I know rapists. Seen them. You not like.”
Her tone—flat, certain—made Eli’s stomach tighten. Questionsrose: How do you know? What happened to you? But he held them back. Notyet.
He finished the stitches, tied off the thread, and pulledhis pants on. Steve watched, then said, “Look better without.”
Eli laughed again, softer this time. “You’re trouble.”
Steve moved closer, sitting beside him on the couch. Sheleaned into his side, head resting on his shoulder. Then, quietly, almostshyly, she asked, “You like me?”
Eli paused. The question carried weight—more than simplecuriosity. He looked down at her—scarred, wild, honest—and felt the answer riseeasily.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I do. More than I expected.”
Steve’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile. *He likesme. Really likes.* The worry that had been gnawing at her eased, replaced by awarm glow. *Mine. Maybe stay.*
Eli took a slow breath. “Steve… about earlier. When I cameinside you—do you have anything to prevent pregnancy? Or… do you even care ifit happens?”
She blinked, then shrugged casually. “If happens… good.Means you good lover.”
Eli stared at her, a rush of emotions colliding—surprise,warmth, a flicker of concern, but mostly an unexpected calm. The idea of hercarrying his child, of building something real here, didn’t scare him the wayit should have. It felt… possible. Right, even. But he needed time to sortthrough it all. She was so raw, so unguarded in her thinking. He’d talk to hermore later, when the haze of lust had cleared.
For now, he let the moment settle. He turned toward her,hand gentle on the back of her head, and leaned in. The kiss was slow,tender—lips brushing softly at first, then deepening with careful exploration.He tasted the faint salt of their earlier passion on her tongue, felt thewarmth of her breath mingling with his, the soft press of her body against him.*She’s wild, but this… this is real. I want her. All of her. Not just tonight.*
Steve melted into it, her hand resting on his chest, feelinghis heartbeat quicken under her palm. *He likes me. Really likes.* The worryshe’d carried—the fear that he might see her only as a fleetingdistraction—dissolved in the gentle press of his lips. *Warm. Safe. Mine.*
When they parted, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. A fewminutes later, it stopped entirely.
The storm had passed.

Chapter 6: The Road Back
The rain had stopped. The sky was a bruised gray, the airthick with ozone and wet dust. Eli stood in the doorway of the shack, ECHOrecorder already tucked into his pack, Vladof rifle slung over his shoulder. Heturned to Steve, who lingered just inside, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
“I have to go,” he said gently. “Lilith needs this ECHO. Thesooner I deliver it, the sooner I can come back.”
Steve’s jaw tightened. “Lilith. Another woman.”
Eli stepped closer, sliding an arm around her waist andgiving her scarred butt a firm, possessive squeeze. “She’s my boss. Nothingmore.” His other hand drifted up, finger hooking gently through the grenade pinring in her left nipple. He tugged lightly, just enough to make her gasp.“Besides, you’re far sexier than Lilith could ever be.”
Steve bit her lip—hard, slow, the kind of look that couldstop a man’s heart. Eli groaned low in his throat and leaned down, kissing heragain—deep, hungry, tasting the faint salt of their earlier passion. When theybroke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers.
“I’ll be back,” he promised. “Four days. Maybe less.”
She nodded, but her eyes were still sharp. “Hurry.”
He ran to the Catch-a-Ride, climbed in, and gunned theengine. If he’d stayed one more second, he wouldn’t have left.

The drive to Sanctuary was brutal. Four days of dodgingbandit patrols, skirting Psycho nests, and navigating washed-out canyon roads.Acid rain had left the ground slick and treacherous, and every bump sent freshpain through his healing thigh. But Eli couldn’t stop smiling. Every mile wasone mile closer to her.
When he finally rolled into Sanctuary’s landing bay, thefloating city was buzzing with activity—Raiders loading gear, mechanicswelding, the ever-present hum of the ship’s engines. He headed straight forLilith’s office, ECHO recorder in hand.
Lilith looked up from her map table, eyes sharp. “You’relate.”
“Storm,” Eli said, setting the ECHO on the table. “Banditshad it. I took them out. Not much on it—coordinates that might be a Vaultfragment, but they’re encrypted. Needs decoding.”
Lilith tapped the device, then leaned back, smirking.“You’re leaving something out. What happened after the fight?”
Eli hesitated. “Acid rain hit. I found shelter with ahomesteader. Rode it out.”
Lilith’s smirk widened. “A homesteader. Female?”
Eli cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Thought so. You’re smiling like a man who got laid for thefirst time in years.”
Eli didn’t deny it. “She’s… different.”
Lilith’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Good foryou. Just be careful. The COV’s sniffing around those map fragments. If they’reinvolved, this gets messy.”
Eli nodded. “I’ll be careful.”
Lilith studied him for a moment, then said, “You know myoffer still stands. Permanent position with the Raiders. You’re good at this,Eli. We could use you.”
Eli shook his head. “Appreciate it. But I’ve got somewhereto be.”
Lilith sighed. “Fair enough. Just don’t get yourselfkilled.”
Eli left her office and headed to Marcus’s shop. The old guntrader was behind the counter, polishing a Maliwan pistol.
“Well, well,” Marcus said, accent thick as ever. “Look who’sback. And smilin’ like he just won the jackpot. What’s her name, eh?”
Eli chuckled. “Her name’s Steve.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Steve? That’s a new one. Tell meabout her.”
“She’s… a homesteader. Lives out in Rust Commons West. Smallplace, but she’s got it fortified. Hydroponics, defenses, the works.”
Marcus leaned forward. “Homesteader, eh? I’ve heard rumorsabout some folks out there—holdouts from the old Dahl days. Tough bunch. Youshould talk to Dr. Tannis. She knows more about those old settlements thananyone. Might have some history on your girl.”
Eli nodded. “I’ll do that.”
Marcus grinned. “Just make sure you don’t get toodistracted, eh? Pandora’s got a way of eatin’ up happy endings.”
Eli left the shop with fresh ammo and a new scope, but hismind was already on the road back. Four days out, four days back. Eight daystotal.
He could make it in six if he pushed hard.
And when got there, he was going to push Steve, hard.

Four days after Eli left, Steve was out on patrol.
The wastes were quiet—too quiet, the kind of quiet that madeher skin prickle. She moved like a shadow through the canyons, Jakobs pistol inhand, eyes scanning every ridge and dry wash. She’d already taken care of asmall band of bandits who’d wandered too close to her territory. Six of them.Easy kills. Throats slit, gear stripped, bodies left for the Skags. Nothingspecial—just another day of keeping her land clean.
She hauled their salvage back to the homestead: ammo, acouple of decent pistols, some rations, a rusted shield mod. Nothing sexy. Nolacy underwear, no silken scraps like the women wore in the porn vids she’dscavenged over the years. She sighed, kicking a rock down the path. *Would benice. Something pretty. For when he comes back.* The thought of wearingsomething delicate for Eli—something that would make his eyes darken—sent awarm pulse through her core. She wanted to see that look again. The one thatsaid he was trying to be civilized but failing.
It was a clear day, the sky a rare, washed-out blue. Steveheaded to her favorite spot: the hot spring just behind the homestead. Themineral water steamed gently in the midday sun, the shallow basin carved intothe rock by years of erosion and Dahl mining runoff. She stripped out of herdirty clothes—oversized shirt, patched pants, the soft rope belt—and walkednaked across the warm stone, boots left behind. Her scars and tattoos caughtthe light: the thorny vines curling around her thigh, the crude primal symbolson her arms, the large burn on her right butt cheek. The grenade pin piercingglinted as she moved.
She slid into the water with a low sigh. The heat envelopedher, soothing the tension in her muscles. She leaned back against the smoothrock, letting the steam rise around her.
Her thoughts drifted to Eli, as they had every day since heleft.
His strength—lifting her like she weighed nothing. Hiscunning—the way he’d taken out those Psychos without wasting a bullet. Hisskill—the precise stitches he’d sewn into his own pants, the steady hands thathad touched her so gently and so firmly. The raw power in his body when he’dthrust into her, filled her, claimed her. She could still feel the stretch ofhim inside her, the heat of his seed, the way he’d kissed her like she wassomething precious.
She missed him. More than she expected.
A small fear gnawed at her: what if he didn’t come back?What if Sanctuary, Lilith, the Raiders—whatever waited out there—was betterthan her dusty little homestead? What if he decided she was too wild, toobroken, too much?
Her hand drifted to her left breast, fingers finding thegrenade pin ring. She tugged gently, just like Eli had when he left—slow,teasing. A sharp spark of pleasure shot through her, making her nipple tightenfurther. Her other hand slid down between her legs, rubbing slow circles overher clit. The water lapped at her skin, warm and slick, but it wasn’t enough.Her fingers moved faster, pressing harder, but the ache only grew.
Frustration built. She wasn’t in the mood for slow. Sheneeded more—something deeper, something that filled her the way he had.
Steve stood up, water cascading off her body, and walkedback to the shack. Naked, dripping, she stepped inside, eyes scanning hercollection of scavenged toys. Carla the shotgun barrel sat on the shelf,polished and waiting. Beside it, the bone dildo she’d carved from one of thePsychos who’d hurt her years ago. The axe handle she sometimes rode when shewas alone.
She needed something more.
She needed him.
But he wasn’t here.
Yet.

Chapter 7: Alone in the Heat
The shack was quiet except for the low hum of thehydroponics and the distant wind through the canyons. Steve stood naked in themiddle of the room, the purple Eridium dildo—Violet—gleaming in her hand. Thecrystal had been polished smooth over months of careful work, its surface warmfrom her grip, faintly glowing with that strange inner light only Eridium held.It was thick—almost as thick as Eli—and that thought alone made her thighsclench.
She crossed to the small ECHO player she’d scavenged from aHyperion wreck years ago and loaded her favorite vid. The screen flickered tolife, grainy but vivid. A woman—blonde, curvy, dressed in lacy lingerie—wasgrabbed from behind by a masked man. Clothes ripped away in slow, deliberatetugs, revealing crotchless panties that framed her bare pussy and a push-up brathat left her huge tits spilling over the top, nipples already hard andexposed. The man bent her over a wooden bench, tying her wrists and ankles withrough rope. She whimpered—weak, frightened—but Steve knew the script. Thewhimpers always turned to cries for more.
Steve lay back on her bed, legs spread, and slid Violetalong her damp pussy lips. The crystal hummed gently against her skin—an almostelectric buzz that sent a soft tingle straight through her clit. She gasped,hips lifting instinctively. *Almost like him.* She pressed the tip inside,slow, feeling the stretch—thick, unyielding, filling her inch by inch. Notquite Eli, but close enough to make her moan. She rocked her hips, letting itslide deeper, the Eridium’s faint vibration buzzing against her inner walls.
On the screen, the woman was bent over the bench, ass up,tied tight. The man positioned himself behind her.
Steve flipped onto her hands and knees, mirroring theposition. She reached back, guiding Violet deeper into her pussy, fuckingherself with slow, deliberate thrusts. *Eli. It’s Eli.* She imagined his handson her hips, his thick cock stretching her open, claiming her like the woman inthe vid was being claimed. Her moans grew louder, ragged, matching the woman’scries on screen: “More… harder… let me cum!”
Then the woman gasped in horror.
Steve knew what came next. The man switched holes—brutal,sudden, forcing himself into the woman’s supposedly virgin ass. The actressscreamed, a raw, shocked sound that quickly melted into desperate pleasure.
Steve pulled Violet free from her pussy, slick with herarousal, and pressed it against her tight back entrance. She breathed deep,relaxed, and pushed. The stretch was intense—burning, exquisite, the crystal’sthickness forcing her open. She let out her own little scream, sharp and needy,as it sank in deeper. *Eli. Forcing me. Taking me.* She rocked back onto it,fucking her ass with slow, punishing strokes, the vibration buzzing through hercore. Her free hand flew to her clit, rubbing frantically.
The woman in the vid was begging now—sobbing for more,harder, let him cum inside her.
Steve’s body tensed, thighs trembling. The orgasm hit like ashockwave—her ass clenching around the dildo, pussy spasming, a raw cry tearingfrom her throat. She shuddered violently, collapsing forward onto the bed, limpand trembling. Violet slid out slowly, inch by inch, until it dropped onto thesheets between her knees with a soft thud.
She lay there, panting, sweat-slicked, the aftershocks stillrippling through her. A faint purple glow shimmered just beneath herskin—Eridium’s touch lingering, making her senses sharper, her body stillhumming with low-level euphoria. The shack felt too quiet, too empty.
She reached over and turned off the ECHO player. The screenwent dark. Silence settled.
Steve stayed on her stomach for a long moment, breathingslowing. She traced the burn scar on her right butt cheek with onefinger—rough, puckered, a reminder of pain she’d reclaimed. Her other handdrifted to the grenade pin in her left nipple, tugging gently, remembering howEli had done the same. The sharp bite sent a fresh spark of pleasure throughher, but it was different now—tender, almost aching. *He touched me here.Called me sexy. Said he’d come back.* The glow under her skin pulsed faintly, asif agreeing.
But doubt crept in. *What if he doesn’t? What if Sanctuaryis better? What if I’m too wild?* She rolled onto her back, staring at theceiling. The Eridium hum in her veins made her restless, senses heightened—shecould hear the faint drip of water from the hydroponics, smell the faintmineral tang of the spring outside. Her body felt alive, electric, but lonely.
She sat up slowly, legs shaky. Violet lay on the sheets,still glistening. She picked it up carefully, almost reverently, and wiped itclean with a rag. Then she placed it back on the shelf beside Carla and thebone dildo—her collection of ghosts and replacements. She didn’t wantreplacements. She wanted him.
She stood, naked, and moved to the cracked mirror she’dscavenged from a wrecked bus. Her reflection stared back: small, scarred, wild.Tattoos curling over skin, burn mark stark on her butt, grenade pin glinting.*Will he still want me when he sees all this in daylight?* She touched theburn, then the pin, then ran her hand down her stomach. The Eridium glow fadedslowly, leaving her skin warm and tingling.
She dressed in loose shorts and a cropped shirt, thenstepped outside. The night sky was clear, stars sharp overhead. She looked up,wondering if Eli was looking at the same sky. *Come back,* she thought, notquite a prayer. *Please.*
She lingered a moment longer, then went back inside. Theshack felt smaller, emptier than before. She lay on the bed, staring at theempty space beside her, and whispered his name into the dark.
It sounded right on her lips.
She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly.
It didn’t.
Chapter 8: Ambush in the Dust

Eli pushed the Catch-a-Ride hard, engine screaming as hetore across the Rust Commons West. Three days since Sanctuary. Three days ofdodging bandit patrols, skirting Psycho nests, and navigating washed-out canyonroads. His thigh still ached from the old wound, but he barely noticed. Hisface hurt from smiling so much—constant, stupid grinning that he couldn’t wipeaway.
He thought about Steve constantly.
Most of the fantasies were raw, unrestrained: pinning herdown on the couch, fucking her hard and deep until she screamed his name;bending her over the kitchen counter, thrusting into her tight heat while sheclawed at the wood; taking her ass slow and savage, making her beg for more.The images played on loop, making his cock strain against his pants every timehe let his mind wander.
But sometimes the thoughts were softer. Holding her atsunset, her head on his shoulder as the sky turned purple and gold. Snugglingon the ratty couch while acid rain hammered the roof, her small body curledagainst him. Doing odd jobs around the homestead—fixing a leaky pipe,reinforcing the razor wire, just being there with her. Domestic. Normal. Thingshe’d never wanted before.
He even indulged in one dangerous fantasy: Steve pregnant.Her belly round, breasts fuller, still wild and fierce but carrying his child.The idea should have scared him. It didn’t. It felt… right.
His mind drifted briefly to his meeting with Dr. Tannis backat Sanctuary. He’d gone to her after Marcus suggested it, hoping for intel onthe homesteaders in Rust Commons West. Tannis had been… Tannis. Ranting,pacing, half-coherent, jumping between Eridium theories and complaints about“the incessant buzzing of the universe.” From the garbled mess, he’d piecedtogether a few things: the settlers in that area had once been mostly peacefulengineers—Dahl holdouts who just wanted a slow life after the corporationpulled out. No big ambitions, no Vault hunting. Just quiet survival.
That had changed when bandits rolled through. Slaughteredmost of them. The survivors scattered or went feral, like Steve.
Tannis had a cute butt too, Eli thought idly. Tight,rounded, perfect for grabbing—if she hadn’t been so fucking bug-nuts. If she’dbeen sane, he might’ve hit on her long before meeting Steve. But she wasn’t.And he was glad for it now.
His thoughts slid back to Steve. The way she’d bitten herlip when he left. The soft, surprised moan when he tugged her grenade pin. Thefierce, feral way she’d kissed him goodbye.
Then the ambush hit.
The COV patrol came out of nowhere—six of them, hiddenbehind a collapsed Dahl rig. A rocket streaked across the road, slamming intothe Catch-a-Ride’s front wheels. The vehicle lurched, tires shredded, and Elilost control. It flipped once, twice, metal screaming as it rolled. He wasthrown against the dash, pinned by the wreckage, ribs aching, blood in hismouth.
They were on him fast.
He managed to draw his pistol and fire—two quick shots, twoCOV down—but a tall, statuesque woman stepped forward. Topless, her largebreasts barely contained by crossed ammunition belts that draped over hernipples. She slammed her boot down on his hand, crushing the pistol out of hisgrip with a sickening crack.
Eli grunted in pain, feeling the bones in his wrist grindingunder her oversized boot.
“Give us the ECHO,” she snarled. “The map data. Now.”
Eli laughed—hoarse, defiant. “Too late. Already delivered itto Lilith.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. She raised her massive machinegun, barrel pressing cold against his forehead.
Inside, Eli’s thoughts went quiet. *I’m sorry, Steve. Ipromised I’d come back.*
A shout stopped her.
“Hold!”
The bandits stepped back reverently. A scrawny, midgetPsycho emerged from behind the wreckage. His mask was different—marked with COVrunes, riveted directly to his skull. A priest. He grinned, teeth filed topoints.
“This one’s still useful,” he rasped. “Bargaining chip.Crimson Raiders are too soft. They’ll trade.”
The bandits dragged Eli from the wreckage. Rough handsstripped him of the rest of his gear—pistol, vibro-knife, med-kit. The tallwoman spun him around and yanked his arms behind his back. Rough rope bit intohis wrists as she tied them tight, knots pulled hard enough to cut skin if hestruggled. Then she looped another length around his neck, cinching it like aleash—not tight enough to choke, but firm enough to remind him who held theother end.
They threw him onto the back of an old open-air transport—arusted, patchwork truck with a flatbed cage. The rope leash was tied to a polewelded upright in the center. Even if he tried to jump, he’d be dragged by theneck until they stopped—if they bothered to stop.
Eli sat with his back against the side, knees drawn up,taking stock.
Amazingly, the wrist she’d stomped on was the only realinjury. Bruised, swollen, throbbing like hell, but not broken. His ribs ached,a cut on his forehead dripped blood into his eye, and his thigh scar burnedfrom the impact, but nothing critical. He could still move. Could still think.
The transport lurched forward, engine coughing black smoke.The female badass sat up front, her large breasts bouncing with every rut inthe road. Eli stared—couldn’t help it. The belts barely contained her, nippleshidden but the sheer size and movement were impossible to ignore. Adistraction. A small mercy.
His mind turned to escape.
Scenario one: wait for a stop, slip the rope somehow, grab aweapon. Ended with him shot in the back. Scenario two: use the pole to breakthe rope. Ended with a snapped neck. Scenario three: wait until they slept,kill the guard. Ended with him surrounded and executed.
Every path led to the same conclusion: he was well and trulyfucked. He didn’t doubt that Lilith wouldn’t try to help him. She just wasn’tthe type to abandon people. He just doubted she’d be able to do sosuccessfully. If she tried anything, they’d put a bullet through his brains. Atleast they’re not torturing him… yet.
He leaned his head back against the cage bars, letting thewind whip through his hair. The female badass glanced back once, smirking likeshe knew what he was thinking. He met her gaze, unflinching.
Then his thoughts drifted to Steve again.
He pictured her waiting at the homestead—alone, pacing,wondering why he hadn’t come back. The way she’d bitten her lip when he left.The soft, surprised moan when he tugged her grenade pin. The fierce, feral wayshe’d kissed him goodbye.
*Sorry, Steve,* he thought. *I was so close. I had a tasteof something real. And now…*
He closed his eyes, the transport rattling over the wastes.
All that was left was to wait and see how it ended.

Chapter 9: The Siren’s Shadow
The ninth morning after Eli left dawned cold and clear.Steve sat on a high rocky outcropping overlooking the canyon path—the onlyroute anyone coming from Sanctuary would take. She hadn’t moved since theprevious afternoon. Her knees were drawn up, arms wrapped around them, eyesfixed on the horizon. The wind tugged at her cropped hair, but she didn’tblink.
She’d waited all night. All day before that. No sign of theCatch-a-Ride. No dust cloud. No Eli.
As the sun crested the ridge and painted the wastes gold,the last of her resolve cracked. Tears welled up, hot and unstoppable. Shedidn’t scream. Didn’t rage. She just sat there, shoulders shaking, silent sobstearing through her small frame. The pain was deep, raw—a hollow ache that madeit hard to breathe. *He’s not coming. He’s gone.*
She almost didn’t feel it at first—the sudden, overwhelmingpresence behind her. Intense. Electric. More powerful than any person she’dever sensed. It hit her like a shockwave, making her skin prickle and herEridium affinity flare in response.
Steve spun, hand going for the pistol at her hip.
Lilith stood a few feet away, arms crossed, eyes glowingfaintly purple. She had phased in silently, the air still shimmering whereshe’d torn through reality.
“S’up,” Lilith said casually.
Steve’s confusion lasted only a heartbeat. Then rage surged.
“You take him,” she snarled, voice raw from crying. “Youtake Eli.”
Lilith raised her hands, palms out. “Whoa, easy. I didn’ttake him. The COV did.”
Steve froze, pistol half-drawn. “What?”
“They ambushed him two days ago. Destroyed his Catch-a-Ride,took him alive. They contacted me yesterday—offered a trade. Eli for the ECHOhe delivered.”
Steve’s grip tightened. “Then give it.”
Lilith’s expression darkened. “Can’t. It’s fake. The banditsEli killed were running a scam. The data was bogus—made-up coordinates to sellto the COV. They’ll kill Eli the moment they realized it was worthless. Andthey’ll blame me for faking it.”
Steve’s hand trembled. “Then we get him.”
Lilith studied her for a long moment. “I’m planning arescue. But I need intel on the area—terrain, threats, hideouts. That’s why I’mhere. It took me forever to find you.”
Steve holstered her pistol. “I go.”
Lilith shook her head. “No. You’re not trained for this. COVare fanatics. It’ll be messy.”
Steve stepped closer, eyes fierce. “You loud. Glow. Phase.They see. I quiet. I kill quiet. Know canyons. Hunt years. You need me.”
Lilith’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue immediately.She could feel it—the faint, wild pulse of Eridium in Steve’s blood. Not aSiren’s power, but something close. Something dangerous.
Finally, Lilith exhaled. “Fine. You’re in.”
Steve nodded once, sharp.
They headed back to the homestead. Steve moved fast,gathering weapons—her Jakobs pistol, scavenged shotgun, blades, rope, fewgrenades. Lilith followed, pulling an old ECHO tablet from her belt and openingscanned maps.
“I have some old Dahl surveys of the area,” Lilith said,zooming in. “Not much detail—mostly topographic. But there’s a cluster of boxcanyons west of here. Remote, defensible. I’m betting the COV are holed up inone of them.”
Steve glanced at the map over Lilith’s shoulder, thennodded. “Know area. One canyon water. Caves. Good hiding. Front big, open. Easyguard. Back small. Small ways in. Skags guard.”
Lilith raised an eyebrow. “You can get through the Skags?”
Steve’s lips curved faintly. “Quiet. Silent. Know me. Nobother.”
Lilith nodded. “Good. Here’s the plan: I go to the frontentrance. Make a big show—wave the ECHO around, demand to trade. Draw theirattention. You slip in through the back, find Eli, get him out.”
Steve checked the load on her shotgun. “Easy in. Easy out.You distract.”
Lilith smirked. “And when things go wrong—and they alwaysdo—we blow our way out.”
Steve gave her a questioning look.
Lilith chuckled. “Trust me, kid. Things always go wrong.That’s just how it is.”
She powered down the tablet, tucking it away. As she watchedSteve methodically check her gear—sharp, focused, no hesitation—Lilith felt aquiet admiration settle in. This girl was raw, deadly, and didn’t waste words.She was exactly the kind of person you wanted on your side in a fight.
Lilith leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Youknow, the funnest part of having a big, strong boyfriend is rescuing hisdumbass from the bad guys.”
Steve paused, then shook her head. “Best part sex.”
Lilith burst out laughing—hard, genuine, tears in her eyes.She doubled over, clutching her stomach. “Oh my gods, you’re perfect. He’s alucky bastard.”
Steve gave her a small, predatory smile. Lilith returned it,eyes gleaming.
Steve looked up. “Rescue dumbass boyfriend now.”
Lilith grinned. “Let’s go get your man.”

Chapter 10: The Cage
Eli sat against the rusted metal post in the COVencampment, with his wrists bound behind his back and the rope leash around hisneck tied tight to the pole. He had stopped running escape scenarios throughhis head after the first hour. That was almost two days ago. Now he just sat.He felt stiff and sore. The crash and the bindings had left every muscleaching, and there was an itch in his left boot that was driving him slowlyinsane. There was no way to scratch it. There was no way to stretch. Just thesun beating down and the constant noise of the camp.
They had given him rations—stale bread, some kind ofjerky that tasted like boot leather—and water, or at least something theycalled water. They had also provided a bucket for when he needed it. That wasit. No conversation. No questions. Just waiting.
*God, I feel filthy,* Eli thought, shifting uncomfortablyagainst the post. *What I wouldn’t give to have Steve wash me again.* His minddrifted back to that first night in her shack—the way she’d stripped withoutshame, washing herself in front of him with slow, practical strokes. She hadn’tbeen trying to be seductive. She’d just been cleaning off the dust and blood.But now, in the haze of memory, she was the most beautiful thing on Pandora: apredatory goddess in a world gone to hell. Her scars, her tattoos, the way thefirelight danced across her skin—he’d never seen anything so raw, so real.
He shook his head sharply, forcing the vision away.Visions of what might have been wouldn’t change where he was now. It might takea boatload of luck to get him out of this, but he still had to be ready if thatboat came in.
To pass the time and keep his mind off the itch, he hadstarted giving nicknames to his jailors. It helped him track how many therewere and where they were—purely coincidental, of course.
There was “Toilet Breath,” the scrawny one who alwayssmelled like he’d eaten something dead. He was currently rummaging through apile of scavenged crates near the edge of the camp, pulling out rusty cans andsniffing them suspiciously, his mask tilted up just enough to reveal a mouthfull of rotten teeth. The camp itself looked like a junkyard explosion—tentspatched with metal scraps, fire pits smoldering with half-burned trash,scattered weapons leaning against boulders.
“One-Eye” with the patch and the twitchy trigger fingerwas sharpening a buzz-axe by one of the fires, his good eye darting aroundparanoia, the blade sparking against a whetstone as he muttered to himself. Theground around him was littered with empty ammo boxes and bones from whateverthey’d eaten last night.
“Stumpy,” the guy missing two fingers, was pacing theperimeter, shotgun slung over his shoulder, kicking at loose rocks and spittinginto the dust. He seemed to be on guard duty, circling the camp’s uneven fenceof razor wire and spiked poles that enclosed the whole mess.
And the big one—the topless woman with ammunition beltscrisscrossing her massive breasts. She was his main jailor. He’d tried a fewnames: “Cannon Tits,” “Boulder Boobs,” “Maggie McTits.” That one stuck. She waslounging against a nearby rock, polishing her massive machine gun, her beltsclinking with each movement as she wiped down the barrel with an oily rag.
He decided to test it.
“Hey, Maggie McTits!” he called out, voice rough but loudenough to carry. “What’s taking so long? Bad reception?”
The woman jerked her head up from sharpening a blade. Hereyes narrowed. “How the fuck do you know my name?”
Eli blinked. *Oh shit.* He’d hoped it was just anickname. Apparently it was her actual bandit name. “Lucky guess,” he said,shrugging as best he could with his hands tied. “Getting bored waiting for youto put a bullet in my brain.”
Maggie McTits stood, towering over him. “We ain’t puttinga bullet in your brain. Priest says I get to marry you first. Then I suffocateyou with my tits.” She grinned, teeth filed to points. “I really get off onit.”
Eli raised an eyebrow. “Romantic.”
She laughed, low and guttural, then turned to a passingpsycho—Toilet Breath, Eli’s nickname for him. “You. Sit.”
Toilet Breath obeyed instantly, dropping onto a boulder.Maggie McTits straddled his lap in one fluid motion, shoving his head betweenher massive breasts. They were bigger than his skull, swallowing his facecompletely. The psycho struggled, hands pushing at her hips, but she was toostrong. She rocked against him, humping his crotch, moaning low in her throatas she squeezed tighter. His muffled cries grew weaker, legs kicking feebly.
Eli watched, stomach turning. *Jesus.*
A shout cut through the noise. “ENOUGH!”
The priest’s voice. Maggie McTits reluctantly releasedToilet Breath, who collapsed on the boulder, gasping, eyes glassy. A wet spotbloomed on his pants. Eli was pretty sure the guy had brain damage now.
Maggie McTits stood, wiping her mouth. “Was so close.Can’t cum without a man dying between my thighs.”
The priest ignored her, turning to Eli. His riveted maskgleamed in the sunlight. “It should be over soon. The Siren Bitch of theCrimson Raiders will be here to trade the ECHO for you.”
Eli studied the priest’s smile. Something about it wasoff—too wide, too knowing. He’d been turning this whole mess over in his headfor days. Why had the bandits he’d tracked been trying to contact the COV wayout here? It hadn’t made sense then. It still didn’t. But now it clicked.
“You planned to kill Lilith from the start,” Eli said,voice steady. “The ECHO was a ruse. Lure her here. Trap her. You never wantedthe map.”
The priest said nothing. Just smiled that creepy smile.
He turned to Maggie McTits. “Prepare. You can have himonce the Siren is dead. But until then, I want you with me for the meeting. Allmy strongest. Ready to kill.”
Maggie McTits gave Eli a psychotic leer, then followedthe priest.
Eli was left alone.
Good. They hadn’t moved him. They might have noticed theropes were worn away where he’d been picking at them for the last few days. Hemight be fucked, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
He glanced at Toilet Breath—still slumped on the boulder,breathing shallowly, wet spot spreading.
Eli decided then: going down in blood and fire was farpreferable to whatever Maggie McTits had planned.
He flexed his wrists against the rope. It gave a littlemore.
Soon.

Chapter 11: The Rescue
Steve moved down the narrow back path into the boxcanyon, pack heavy on her shoulders with weapons for herself and Eli. Herthoughts were on him. *He good? Strong. Tough. Powerful.* She hoped he wasstill fighting. She knew he was.
Ahead, the first Skag pack blocked the way. Larger thanshe expected—a massive alpha, four or five spitters, more than a dozen pups.The biggest pack she’d seen in years. No way around them.
Steve calmed herself. She let her inner predatorrise—slow, steady, fearless. One step at a time, she walked through them. Thealpha growled low, hot breath washing over her leg. Pups circled, eyes glowing.Spitters hissed, acid dripping from their mouths. Steve’s heart pounded, butshe kept her breathing even. A faint purple shimmer rippled under herskin—Eridium’s touch. The alpha’s growl softened. The pack parted. She passedthrough, silent as death. The Skags watched her go.
She reached the bandit camp and scoped it from cover.Just in time to see the topless woman with ammo belts shove a scrawny psycho’sface between her massive breasts. He struggled, went limp. A shout from thepriest stopped her. Steve’s eyes found Eli—tied to a post, alive. Tension easedfrom her chest. *He here. Good.*
She waited.
Then Lilith’s voice echoed from the front of thecanyon—loud, taunting. “Come on out, priest! Let’s talk trade!”
Most bandits rushed toward the noise. Only threeremained: one patrolling the perimeter, one sitting near Eli’s cage, and thebrain-damaged psycho slumped in the sun.
Steve waited for the patroller to pass a blind spot—wherethe sitting guard couldn’t see. She leaped. Knife flashed. She rode him down ashe died, throat cut clean. One.
The sitting guard was trickier. No one to see her now—allattention on the front. She crept closer, pistol ready. Then shouting andgunfire erupted from ahead. Lilith’s distraction had collapsed.
Steve didn’t hesitate. She raised her Jakobs pistol andshot the guard in the head. The crack echoed. Eli’s head snapped up. Their eyesmet.
She reached him in seconds. Knife sliced the leash, thenthe rope around his neck. Eli’s eyes widened—shock, relief, joy. Steve’s handtouched his cheek for a heartbeat. His forehead pressed to hers. No words. Justa look that said everything.
More shots rang out—bullets kicked dirt near them. Eli,hands still tied, shoved her behind a boulder for cover. The brain-damagedpsycho was still slumped on top of it.
A ricochet grazed Steve’s arm—blood welled. Eli flexedhard, snapping the last strands of rope on his wrists. He grabbed her pistoland returned fire, taking down two bandits with clean headshots.
Steve pulled her pack off, wincing, and handed him arusty but powerful Jakobs rifle. Eli took it, checked the load. “Where’d youget this?”
“Scavenge.”
He laughed—low, relieved—and leaned in for a brief,passionate kiss. His lips were warm, desperate, tasting of dust and blood. “I’mnot dying today.”
But there were still too many bandits—another dozen,maybe two. Attrition would kill them eventually. Eli took another shot,dropping one more. “We need a miracle,” he said with a savage grin.
Steve grabbed his arm. Her mind raced. *Trick. Triedyears ago. Dangerous. Almost died.* But no choice now. She looked at him, eyesglowing faintly purple as Eridium surged.
“Try something,” she rasped. “Don’t shoot Skags.”
Eli blinked. “What?”
She closed her eyes. Focused. Reached back to the bigpack at the canyon’s rear. She felt them—restless, hungry, protective. She sentone clear feeling: *Food. Here.*
The Skags surged. A stampede of claws and teeth roareddown the canyon. The alpha charged first, pups and spitters behind. Banditsscreamed. Gunfire erupted—wild, panicked. Skags tore into them—ripping flesh,dragging bodies down, acid spit melting armor. Some bandits fired back, killinga few Skags, but most were overwhelmed. Blood sprayed. Bodies fell. The canyonfilled with roars, screams, and the wet sound of tearing meat.
Eli stared, stunned. He looked at Steve. “You did that?”
She could only smile—exhausted, drained, but triumphant.Words were too hard.
Eli shook his head in awe. “You really are a wildgoddess.”
Steve laughed—soft, tired, but it felt amazing. Warmthspread through her chest. *He sees me. Likes me.*
They stayed behind the boulder. The brain-damaged psychowas still breathing, alive but catatonic. Skags ignored him.
When the frenzy ended, the canyon was quiet. Bodieseverywhere. The Skags had eaten their fill and left.
Eli peeked out. “Holy shit.”
Steve stood, arm bleeding but steady. She checked thewound—graze, not deep. Eli examined it quickly, concern in his eyes. “Youokay?”
She nodded. “Good.”
He pulled her close, careful of her arm. She leaned intohim, head on his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady. They stood there amoment—breathing, alive.
Eli grabbed her pack, found an ECHO recorder, andcontacted Lilith. “You alive?”
Lilith’s voice crackled back. “Yeah. Holding the front.Bandits are running. Priest got carried off by some topless badass with ammobelts.”
Eli smirked. “Maggie McTits.”
A pause. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
Eli sat on the boulder next to the brain-damaged psycho.“It’s over.”
The psycho suddenly jerked awake. “What happened?!”
Steve smashed a rock into his head. He dropped, dead.
Eli laughed—tired, relieved. “Time to go home.”
Steve smiled, stepped close, and hugged him tight—carefulwith her injured arm. “Home.”

Chapter 12: Homecoming

Eli drove the new Catch-a-Ride back to the homestead,engine rumbling steady across the wastes. This one felt a little more solidthan the last—less like it might explode at any bump, courtesy of Ellie’stweaks. She’d handed it over with a wink back at the canyon aftermath, saying,“This baby’s got extra armor. Should hold up better than Scooter’s olddeathtraps.” Steve sat in the gunner’s seat, wind whipping her short hair, eyesscanning the horizon like always. Eli glanced up at her through the open hatch—hersmall frame silhouetted against the sky, scarred skin catching the light. Shelooked like a primal goddess riding the edge of chaos.
He thought back on the aftermath of the rescue. CrimsonRaider medics had patched Steve’s arm—cleaned the graze, bandaged it tight.She’d barely flinched. Lilith had stuck around longer than necessary, talkingto Steve in low tones, a rare smile on her face. Some kind of friendship wasforming there. Lilith had even pulled Eli aside before they left: “Bring her toSanctuary sometime. I want to talk to her. That Eridium affinity… it’s notSiren power, but it’s something. I’m intrigued.”
The cleanup had been chaotic. Tiny Tina and Brick hadbeen part of Lilith’s backup—called in for muscle when the plan went sideways.Tina had been in her element, cackling as she lobbed grenades into the fleeingCOV ranks. “Boom time, bitches! Eat dynamite!” Brick had waded in like awalking earthquake, smashing bandits left and right with his massive fists. “Ipunch you now!” he’d bellowed, sending bodies flying. Eli had caught glimpsesfrom behind the boulder—the two of them turning the front of the canyon into aslaughterhouse.
Ellie had shown up later, towing in a fresh Catch-a-Ride.She’d eyed Steve with a grin. “Well, ain’t you the cutest little thing onPandora? Look at ya, all feral and fierce.”
Steve had blinked up at her—Ellie towering,broad-shouldered, grease-streaked. “You… big. Biggest woman ever.”
Ellie threw her head back and laughed, a booming sound.“Honey, I gotta be big to handle all the sexual attention this hot body gets.Men line up for miles!”
Steve had tilted her head, curious, but smiled faintlyand said “Like you.” Eli had chuckled, shaking his head at the exchange. Itsems that Steve would fit right in with all the crazy people he’d come to knowon Pandora.
Now, out in the wastes, Eli’s thoughts turned fully toSteve. She’d come for him. Risked everything. He wasn’t going to let anythinghappen to her now. He’d only known her a little over a week, but he alreadyknew: this was a future he’d never let go of. It would mess up his oldplans—leaving Pandora, starting over somewhere clean—but he could live withthat. *No plan survives contact with the enemy,* he thought, a wry smiletugging at his lips.
They reached the homestead. It was a rare good day onPandora—clear sky, warm sun, no acid rain in sight. They stumbled into theshack together. Eli dropped his gear on the floor with a clatter.
Before he could do anything else, Steve pounced.
She kissed him hard—hungry, desperate, hands everywhere,legs wrapped around his hips. Holding. Touching. Grinding against him. It wasalmost overwhelming. Eli didn’t fight it. He devoured her right back. His handsslid under her clothes, pulling at ropes and straps and strings, tearing fabricin their eagerness. He stripped her bare, then stripped himself just as fast.
He carried her to the bed. This time, he intended toclaim her fully. Her passions had awakened his own, and he wasn’t holding back.
He pinned her beneath him. Her struggles were playful,eager—she wanted it. She wanted it bad. She tried to wrap her legs around hiswaist, but Eli grabbed her thighs and lifted. He’d meant to throw her legs overhis shoulders, but she was so flexible, her feet ended up pinned behind herhead instead.
Eli paused, pleasantly surprised. She was folded beneathhim—legs pinned, pussy and ass fully exposed, small breasts heaving, leftnipple pierced with the grenade pin dangling. Vulnerable. Perfect.
Steve looked up at him, a slight twinge of fear in hervoice. “You like?”
Eli’s answer was immediate, overwhelming. “Yes.”
He kissed her—deep, claiming—pressing his body down onher smaller, willingly vulnerable frame. His thick, hard cock ground along hersmooth slit, feeling her slick heat. She moaned into his mouth.
Steve reached down, guiding him to her entrance. When hefelt the head nudge inside, Eli didn’t hesitate. He wasn’t gentle. He slammedthe entire length into her.
Steve cried out—a primal growl of shock and pleasure. Hefilled her completely, stretching her tight walls. Eli set a mercilessrhythm—hard, deep thrusts that rocked her body. Her hands gripped under hisshoulders, nails digging in as he broke her. Her moans turned to grunts,squeals, raw feral sounds that drove him harder.
He had no doubt: if she didn’t want this, she could havestopped him. But she didn’t. She wanted to be claimed as much as he wanted toclaim her.
She came—once, twice, three times—her pussy clenchingaround him, body shuddering. Her mind went blank, lost in the relentlesspleasure.
Eli finally let go—an animal howl tearing from his throatas he filled her, hot spurts flooding her depths.
He collapsed on her, releasing her legs. They curledaround his waist, then flopped onto the bed. Both were panting, dripping sweat.Steve was barely conscious, eyes glazed, body limp. Eli was exhausted, butstill rock hard inside her.
He lowered his head to hers. Gentle. Soft. He kissed herforehead.
“I love you,” he said—the words he’d wanted to say fordays.
Steve’s eyes fluttered open. A slow, sated smile spreadacross her face.
“Love you,” she whispered back.
They lay there, tangled, breathing each other in. Home.

Intermission 1
So, you’re still here, huh?
Marcus leans back in his chair, the dim light of thebar catching the glint in his eye. The woman across from him—pale, curvy, andvery much not wearing much anymore except that wild top hat—pours him anotherdrink with a slow, teasing smile.
She leans in, voice low and sultry. “That can’t be theend of the story, Marcus. Not even close.”
Marcus takes the glass, his gaze drifting over her bareskin, lingering on those big pale tits she’s making no effort to cover. Hechuckles, low and rough.
“Of course not, darlin’. That was just the opening act. Agreat affair’s only gettin’ started. You should know—you’re an… intimate partof it, remember?” He winks. “Heh.”
She slides closer, pressing her breasts against his arm,soft and warm. “Maybe if I rub these big pale tits on you a little more, it’llhelp you remember the rest.”
Marcus sets the glass down, his hand finding her waist.“Oh, I’m certain that’ll jog my memory just fine.”
He takes a slow sip, eyes never leaving her.
"The story continues the next day, as their love andlust for each other grows…"
- 1
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Predator and Prey A Borderlands Love Story

Chapter 1: The Predator in the Dust

Chapter 3: Heat in the Shack

Chapter 5: After the Rain

Chapter 6: The Road Back

Chapter 7: Alone in the Heat

Chapter 8: Ambush in the Dust

Chapter 9: The Siren’s Shadow

Chapter 10: The Cage

Chapter 11: The Rescue

Chapter 12: Homecoming

Intermission 1