The prison air is thick, humid, and charged with something far more dangerous than just tension. Jolyne’s back is against the cold bars, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as Ermes presses into her, lips trailing down her neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake. “You sure you can handle this, Jolyne?” Ermes teases, her voice husky against Jolyne’s skin.

Jolyne shivers, but she’s not backing down. Instead, she grabs Ermes by the collar and yanks her in for another kiss—hot, deep, desperate. Their bodies press together, friction igniting something raw between them. Jolyne barely notices when Ermes’ hands slip under her uniform, fingertips dragging along her heated skin, pulling fabric loose as she goes.

A chuckle vibrates against Jolyne’s lips as Ermes pulls back just enough to admire her handiwork. “Damn… never thought I’d be stripping down in a jail cell, but for you? Might just be worth the trouble.”

Jolyne smirks, running her fingers along Ermes’ jaw before tugging her closer. “Less talking. More touching.”

Ermes obliges, peeling away the last barrier between them, letting the cool air brush against overheated skin. The world outside the cell fades—no prison, no guards, no impending danger. Just Jolyne and Ermes, tangled together in the dim light, lost in the feverish pull of each other.

It’s reckless. It’s dangerous. It’s completely forbidden.

And neither of them would have it any other way.