Page 11 of The Family Friend

A whimper escapes me before I can stop it. His hand clamps over my mouth immediately, palm warm and firm.

"Gram's right below us. You wouldn't want any of them up here, catching you getting railed like this."

"Oh God, Heath."

The slowness of his first thrusts drives me insane. Each drag of his cock against my inner walls has my toes curling, but it's not enough. I need more. I wrap my legs around his waist again and dig my heels into his ass, urging him deeper, harder. His eyes widen in warning, but he doesn't stop.

Every filthy stroke has me seeing stars. He keeps the pace controlled, hips rolling in a way that grinds against my clit with each thrust. The bed doesn't bang against the wall, but the frame still creaks softly under us. I bite the inside of my cheek to stay silent, tasting copper, even if all I want to do is moan and whimper.

"Harriet? You already in bed up there?"

My dad. Oh my God. No, no, no, no.

I swallow the moan building in my throat. Heath freezes above me, cock buried deep, his hand still partly covering my mouth. His eyes meet mine, dark with lust and a hint of panic.

"Y-yes," I manage to call back, voice only slightly strained. "I'm in bed."

"Good night, honey."

"Good night, Dad."

The footsteps retreat. The moment they're gone, Heath's smirk returns, wicked and full of dark promise. He starts moving again, faster now, still careful but with more purpose.

His hips snap forward in short, powerful thrusts that hit exactly where I need him. The angle has his pelvis grinding against my clit on every stroke, and the pressure builds fast and sharp.

He kisses me hard, tongue stroking deep, muffling the sounds I can't hold back anymore. One hand snakes between our bodies, fingers finding my clit and teasing it in tight, perfect circles.

My thighs start to shake around his waist as a tsunami of pleasure hits, rolling through my body in a powerful wave.

"God, Heath. Oh God."

"Give it to me, baby. Come."

He kisses me again, and I moan into his mouth, the sound vibrating against his tongue as my pussy clenches rhythmically around his cock. Waves of warmth rip through every muscle, leaving me trembling and gasping.

I'm still reeling by how intense my orgasm is when Heath's thrusts become wild and coordinated and he slams into me one last time. He moans into my mouth as he comes, hot pulses of come flooding deep inside me.

His hips jerk with each spurt, drawing out the aftershocks for both of us until we're both spent and panting.

We stare at each other in the dim light filtering through the lake-facing window. His forehead drops to mine, sweat-slick skin sticking together. He kisses me there, soft and lingering, right at my hairline.

"Well," he whispers, voice rough, "we really are having a good night."

4

HEATH

My eyes snap open to the dark slant of the loft ceiling and the wet heat wrapped tight around my cock. Holy shit. Harriet's mouth works me slowly, her tongue sliding along the underside while her lips seal around the head.

The clock on the dresser glows 1:03. The whole house sleeps below us. My heart slams against my ribs like it wants out, each frantic beat echoing the roar of blood in my ears.

Her hair brushes my thigh every time she dips down, those soft waves tickling across heated skin and sending sparks racing over my nerves. She takes me deeper, cheeks hollowing with obscene suction, and the sight punches the air from my lungs.

Ten years of wondering what she'd look like like this—on her knees, lips stretched around me, saliva glistening on her chin—and reality hits harder than any blindside hit I've taken on the field.

Fuck, she's perfect. The faint, sweet scent of her skin mixes with the clean cotton of the sheets and the unmistakable musk of arousal thickening the air between us.

"Harriet." My voice sounds gravelly with want.