Page 68 of I'll Keep Her Safe

I give a gentle roll of my hips, snaking a hand between us to stroke her clit, swollen and slippery under my fingers, and Poppy lets loose another moan as I touch her there and thrust hard at the same time.

“Baby,” I rasp, covering her mouth with my hand. “You’re not being quiet.”

Her eyes flash, and she clenches around my cock. She likes my hand there, I can tell. She likes the idea that we could get caught, that we have to be quiet.

I thrust slowly, drawing out the pleasure, and she moans quietly, her breath hot on my hand.

“You’re such a naughty girl,” I tell her, withdrawing to give another agonizingly slow thrust. “Sneaking into my room.”

She squirms underneath me, fingers digging into my ass as she pulls me into her.

“Not wearing any panties.”

Another thrust, deeper now, and the heat simmering low in my abdomen builds. I need to make sure she gets there before I do.

“Climbing onto my cock.”

I stroke her clit, building up my thrusts in a gentle rhythm, with as much force as I can manage without shaking the bed. She writhes under me, her moans muffled by my hand.

“Good, baby?”

She nods, squeezing her legs around me. “Harder.”

I glance at the door, grimacing. “I can’t. Too loud.”

She sighs into my hand, and an idea hits me. I pull away, taking her hand, leading her to the rug on the floor. Then I stop.

What the hell am I doing, fucking Poppy on the floor? She’s better than that.

Apparently, she isn’t. She reaches for me hungrily, pulling me down on top of her. “I need you, Wyatt.” I thrust back into her hard, and she moans.

“Shh,” I say, driving into her. I can fuck her harder here, with the rug absorbing most of our movements. Of course, if anyone were to open the door—

The thought evaporates from my mind when Poppy lifts her head to flick her tongue over my nipple piercing, whimpering as she does so. Heat surges through me, and I pin her hands above her head with one of mine, placing the other over her mouth. She spreads her legs wider, her eyes rolling back as I slam into her again.

“You like it hard, don’t you?” I whisper. She nods, squirming on the floor as I fuck her. “You like feeling my cock buried inside you?”

“Yes,” she pants against my hand. When I drive back into her, she moans louder and I clamp my hand more firmly over her mouth.

“Shh, pretty girl. Just take my cock.”

Something about that, and the rhythm of my hips, seems to push her over the edge. She quivers underneath me, bucking and thrashing as I pound into her. Seeing her come nudges me over too, and I bury myself to the hilt, spilling into her, muffling my moans into her shoulder.

We lie there for a moment, breathing hard, still connected. A sound in the hallway snaps me to my senses, and I roll off her, fumbling for the comforter and yanking it off the bed, over us. Not that it would do much good—why on earth would I be on the floor with the comforter? With Poppy?

But the noise passes, and I suck in a breath as the reality of the situation hits me.

I just fucked my daughter’s best friend on the floor… while my daughter was next door.

What iswrongwith me?

“Stop,” Poppy whispers, and I glance down at her. “I know what you’re thinking. Stop.”

I sigh, searching for a washcloth or something to clean up. There’s a box of tissues on the nightstand and I pluck a fistful, handing them to her. She shoves them between her legs, looking up at me with a frown.

“I mean it, Wyatt.” She sits up, leaning against my side. “Did you enjoy that?”

A quiet laugh escapes me. “That was easily the highlight of my year. The past decade, if I’m completely honest.”

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