Page 75 of Wicked Nightmare

"Mmmm, baby, keep going.” Lakey said, nipping at my earlobe.

I flipped us so she was pinned beneath me on the couch. "Yeah? Maybe I’ll just tease you a bit more. See how long you can hold out."

She pulled me down by the neck and bit my lower lip hard enough to taste blood. Her legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my back, pulling me against her. I could feel how wet she was through the thin fabric of her shorts. My cock was already straining against my pants.

"Off," she demanded, tugging at my waistband. "Everything off. Now."

I stood just long enough to strip, watching her do the same. She peeled her shorts down her legs and kicked them onto the floor, then pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it at my face. I caught it, brought it to my nose, inhaled, and threw it over my shoulder.

"You're so fucking weird," she said.

"You love it."

"Unfortunately."

I was back on her in a second, my mouth on her neck, her collarbone, the space between her tits where I could feel her heart slamming. She arched up into me, her hands in my hair, pulling hard enough to sting.

"Inside me," she said. "Now, Cam. I don't want foreplay. I want you."

So I gave her what she wanted. I pushed inside her in one slow stroke, both of us groaning as I bottomed out. She was tight and wet and warm and every time, every single fucking time, it felt like coming home. Not the kind of home we'd grown up in. The kind we'd built. The kind that only existed between us.

I started slow because it would drive her crazy. Long, deep strokes that made the couch creak and her fingers dig into my shoulders. She tried to speed me up, grinding her hips, but I held her down with one hand on her hip.

"Patience," I said.

"Fuck patience. Fuck me."

"I am fucking you."

"Faster."

"No."

She made a frustrated noise that was half growl, half whine, and I grinned against her neck. This was my favorite game. The one where I kept her right on the edge, right where she couldn't think, couldn't plan, couldn't spiral into the dark corners of her brain where Steven's words lived. Right here, with me, she was just Lakey. Just mine.

I picked up the pace when she got close, her breathing going ragged, her nails leaving tracks down my back. I reached between us, found her clit, and pressed.

"Cam, fuck, right there. Mmmm fuck, yes. Don’t change anything."

I kept the same pace and she started to moan, her pussy clamping down on me. I fucked her through it, her body going rigid and then liquid, her mouth open in a silent scream that turned into my name. I followed her over thirty seconds later, burying my face in her neck, my body emptying into hers while the Goonies played in the background because our life was nothing if not absurd.

The credits rolled, casting a flickering blue light across our tangled bodies. I ran my fingers through Lakey's hair, loving how peaceful she looked.

"What're you staring at, weirdo?" she mumbled, not bothering to open her eyes.

"Just admiring the view. You're almost tolerable when you're not talking."

She cracked one eye open, her lips curving. "Careful, Axley. I might start to think you actually like me."

"Perish the thought," I said, but pulled her closer all the same.

We lay there in comfortable silence, the white noise of the TV a soothing backdrop. For a moment, I could almost pretend we were normal. Just two people in love, not a pair of fucked-up killers with a laundry list of enemies.

"Hey, Cam?" Lakey's voice was uncharacteristically small.

"Yeah, babe?"

She traced the outline of her name on my chest, her touch feather light. "We're gonna make it through this, right? All this Chimera bullshit?"