Page 26 of Wicked Little Nightmare

"Hold on tight, sweetheart," I murmured, positioning myself behind her. "This is gonna be a wild ride."

I thrust into her with a primal growl, her warmth enveloping me as we connected. Lakey's scream of pleasure echoed through the room, raw and unrestrained. My hands gripped her hips, fingertips digging into her soft flesh as I set a punishing rhythm.

"Fuck, Cam!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "Don't stop!"

The sound of her desperation fueled my desire, pushing me to drive deeper, harder. I leaned over her, my chest pressed against her back, and whispered in her ear, "You're mine, Lakey. All mine."

She whimpered in response, her body trembling beneath me. I could feel her tightening around me, her pleasure building in tandem with my own. The primal connection between us was electric, a twisted dance of love and violence that defined our relationship.

As I felt myself nearing the edge, I reached around to stroke her, determined to bring her over with me. "Come for me, baby," I demanded, my voice rough with exertion.

Lakey's screams reached a fever pitch as she shattered, her release triggering my own. We rode out the waves of pleasure together, our bodies intertwined in a moment of perfect, chaotic harmony.

Afterward, I pulled out and patted her pussy with a satisfied smirk. "Hold it in, sweetheart," I commanded playfully.

She rolled her eyes but clenched obediently, turning around to sit on the couch, sticking her legs in the air sarcastically. "You're such an asshole," she muttered, but there was no real heat in her words.

I chuckled, running a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. "You love it."

She didn't deny it, just shot me a look that was equal parts exasperation and affection. Eventually she got bored and jumped up. She sauntered across the room, her hips swaying with each step. Turning into our bedroom, drawers were pulled out as she rummaged around for fresh clothes. Within a couple of minutes, she walked back out, tossing me some pants and a black tee. I watched, mesmerized, as she slipped into a black spaghetti strap top, her scars catching the dim light. No bra, of course. My girl knew how to keep me on edge.

As I tugged the black V-neck over my head, my mind wandered to the first time I'd seen Lakey. We were just kids then, scared and angry in that shithole foster home. But even then, there was something in her eyes – a darkness that matched my own.

"What's going on in that twisted mind of yours?" Lakey asked, sidling up to me.

I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Just thinking about how far we've come, sweetheart. From those fucked-up kids to... well, these fucked-up adults."

She laughed, a sound that was both melodic and slightly unhinged. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Cam. You and me against the world, remember?"

I nodded, feeling a rare moment of... not quite tenderness, but something close. "Always, baby. Now, let's go raise some hell."

I flicked off the lights, plunging the room into darkness. The familiar click of the deadbolt echoed as Lakey locked the door behind us. It was almost comical how normal it felt – like we were heading out for a fucking picnic instead of whatever shit show awaited us.

"You got the keys?" I asked, patting my pockets.

Lakey dangled them in front of me, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "What would you do without me, baby?"

I snatched them from her hand, letting my fingers linger on hers. "Probably be a lot less homicidal, for starters."

She laughed, that musical sound that always sent a shiver down my spine. "Oh please, you were plenty fucked up before you met me."

"True," I conceded, leading the way down the stairs. "But you certainly helped perfect the art."

Down in the parking garage, the cool night air hit us like a slap to the face. Our bikes gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, twin beacons of freedom and danger. I swung my leg over mine, feeling that familiar thrill as the engine roared to life.

“I wanna ride with you tonight.” She said, waiting for me to pat the seat.

Lakey climbed on behind me, adjusting her helmet, her body molding perfectly against my back. Her arms snaked around my waist, hands splaying across my abs. "Ready when you are, big guy," she whispered in my ear.

I revved the engine, feeling her grip tighten. "Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

As we tore off into the night, the wind whipping past us, I couldn't help but grin. There was no one here to stop us. No one to tell us what to do, or how to feel. No one to inflict pain on us. Just the road and the freedom to exact revenge however we saw fit.

The roar of the engine echoed through the empty streets, a primal scream cutting through the silent night. Lakey's arms tightened around me as we leaned into a sharp turn, her breath hot against my back.

"You think they'll be ready for us?" she shouted over the wind.

I laughed, dark and low. "Oh, baby girl, nobody's ever ready for us."

---