Page 16 of Unmasking Mayhem
With every move, I feel her cunt tightening around me, drawing me closer to the edge where pleasure collides with pain. She gasps and thrusts her hips up to meet mine, urging me on as though we’re racing toward an unseen finish line. The strong scent of sex mingles with the cool night air, intoxicating me as it wraps around us.
“What are you going to do when you realize I’m not the nice guy you think I am?” I taunt, my breath ragged, my heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of our bodies. “I might just be your worst fucking nightmare.”
With a wicked smile, Whitney raises her chin defiantly, her eyes a swirling storm of dark desires. “Then make me wake up, Carter. I’m not afraid of the nightmare. Just give me every last fucking bit of it.”
That challenge pushes me to the brink. I pull back slightly, only to plunge back into her pussy with brutal force, that primal need boiling over into something fierce—a relentless push and pull that knows no boundaries. She screams out, a raw,uninhibited sound that echoes into the abyss of the night, fueling my determination.
“Damn it, Whitney,” I whisper, every ounce of my focus locked on her. “You’re not just a fucking distraction. You’re everything I’m not supposed to want, and yet I want you more than anything.”
In response, she arches her back—a sinuous movement that sends pleasure electrifying through both of us. Her nails dig into my skin deeper, drawing blood as she gasps for air, the heat of her body igniting an inferno at our core.
“Then take me, Carter. Own me. I’m done fighting.”
“God, you’re a wild one,” I breathe, losing myself in the depths of her surrender.
I don’t just want to fuck her; I want to consume her, to wrap her in the chaos of my heart and let her unravel me in return. The rhythmic pounding of our bodies becomes a symphony, each note resonating with unspoken truths and regrets. There’s a freedom in this moment—an understanding that for all our fractures and scars, we can still connect in wild abandon.
“Come on, Little Mischief. Just let everything go,” I urge, feeling my own climax creeping in, a flood tide of pleasure threatening to pull us both under. “Let it all out—your fears, your doubts. Let this be your escape.”
Her voice rises with the manic pulse of our intimacy. “Carter, I—” But it barely reaches me, as my body blazes forward, senses honed in on nothing except her. I feel the tightening at the base of my spine—the tightening that warns that we’re about to break free. And then it hits. I spill into her—hot, heady pleasure surging forth in an instinctual rush, merging our worlds in an exultant haze. Every thrust feels like a vow—an unspoken promise laid bare among the clashing of bodies. As I clinch around her, reveling in the bliss of our chaos, I catch sight of herface—painted with raw emotion, a mosaic of vulnerability and power.
Our breaths intertwine in the heavy atmosphere, the night a witness to our recklessness. But even as we ride the waves of ecstasy, I can feel the weight of the world settling back over us like a storm—reminders of the icy grip of reality lurk in the recesses of my mind. But, for this moment, wrapped in each other’s arms beneath the vast expanse of stars, we are powerful. We are fearless. And maybe we are enough to battle the darkness that threatens to engulf us.
Exhausted, panting softly, I rest my forehead against hers, a moment of stillness enveloping us after the storm. It’s vulnerable; it’s terrifying. But there’s a flicker of hope intertwined with our hot breaths—the promise of a future we might yet carve from the chaos that surrounds us.
“Stay close,” I murmur, grabbing her face and squeezing her cheeks, making her look me in the eyes, silence heavy between us as we both accept the uncharted territory that lies ahead. “Because this isn’t over. Not by a long fucking shot.”
Whitney glances back toward the edge of the cliff, her gaze lingering on the flickering lights below. “I know,” she breathes, and with a strange mixture of defiance and acceptance, she finds my hand—her fingers interlacing with mine.
And then, interrupting the perfect moment I've been wanting since I laid my fucking eyes on her, is a message that lights up my phone, quickly bringing us back to reality. She scrambles to shove me off of her and desperately reaches for my phone, the moment gone—vanished—like it never even happened. Before she can grab it, I pick my phone up and raise it out of her reach, earning a death glare from her as she picks her gun back up and aims it at me once again.
"Give me the fucking phone, Carter, or your ass better be the one fucking running."
"You think you can catch me?" I tease her, taking in the anger radiating off of her body as she pushes her skirt down, covering her perfect little ass. "Let's see."
And then I bolt for the trail tucked in between the tall trees that line the edge of the cliff, fully aware the game we're playing isn't the one with any winners at the end of it—only heartbreak and disaster, so to delay the inevitable, I run as fast as I can, needing to keep her mind off the news about Havoc, because glancing at the message, it's not one that she's going to like—not one fucking bit.
six
shadows
Whitney
Demons: Jelly Roll, Lil Wyte
Ican feel the ecstasy surging through me as I dash blindly along the heavily wooded trail that hugs the cliff's edge, desperate to catch up with Carter and see the fucking message on his phone. But maintaining a sense of optimism feels nearly impossible, especially with a gut full of dread weighing me down.
If the news were good, he would have told me, right?
Nothing has been going well lately, making it a fucking struggle to stay positive. I've spent far too much of my life innegativity, and I’m determined to break free from that cycle. I refuse to get stuck in that dark place at the back of my mind—the one filled with despair, where fear takes hold, and forcing a genuine smile feels completely out of reach.
When I was with Dustin, I lived in constant fear of what he might do, and I promised myself that if I ever escaped that nightmare, I wouldn't let myself be consumed by the darkness again. I vowed to embrace the good or create it if it didn’t already exist. For the past year, I’ve stayed true to that promise—until recently. With Dustin back in my life, it’s a struggle not to revert to those old habits and the familiar comfort of despair.
I let out a sigh and come to a halt, bending over with my hands on my knees as I try to catch my breath from the run. The trees sway around me as if time has slowed down, and a chill creeps down my spine, raising the hair on my arms. The unsettling feeling of being watched wraps around me, freezing me in place on the trail, surrounded by nothing but trees, darkness, and the eerie sounds that you can only hear in the middle of the woods.
Carter has vanished from sight, most likely hiding in the brush, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I straighten up, attempting to project confidence despite the terror gnawing at me. I’m afraid they’ve returned for me—fragments of my time with Crow at the harbor flood my mind, and I can’t shake the feeling that those same men are lurking in the shadows, watching me now. I try to dismiss the thought, but it only heightens my anxiety as the woods seem to close in around me, suffocating and making it hard to breathe.
Feeling my legs begin to buckle beneath me, I start to drop to the ground in slow motion. Just before I make contact, a pair of strong arms catches me, whisking me deeper into the night. In that moment, as I’m engulfed by the darkness, I finally find solace in the embrace that lifts the panic from my chest, allowing me to breathe freely again. I gasp for air as the world spins andthe sounds of the forest fade, replaced with a heartbeat—I can’t tell if it’s my own or the steady thud of someone else's. My heart races, but it's not solely from fear now. The sensation of warmth and security in the arms of the unknown stills my mind, even as I wrestle to comprehend what has just happened.
