Page 66 of Keeper
I bend over and suck the piercing, pulling the metal into my mouth. Her hands slice through my hair and her hips thrust toward me as she cries out uncontrollably. Christ, she’s sensitive here tonight. Was she this sensitive before? Or is everything that much more intensified now that we can admit our feelings?
Desperate for more, she reaches out and rubs my erection again while tugging on my shirt with her other hand. Needing to see more of her, I turn and lay her on my bed, sliding her knickers off as I do.
My eyes revel in the sight of her, naked and spread out on my bed with her short blonde locks framing her stunning face. I can tell she’s growing impatient, so I strip every bit of fabric off of my body for her hooded eyes to devour.
When I crawl onto the bed beside her, she pulls my hand to lay it flat over her stomach. “I like these.”
I smile as her fingers slip between mine. “My hands?”
She nods. “They are always warm. I like how they feel on me.”
This makes me smile. “They’re yours.” I repeat her words back to her.
“I also like this,” she says, reaching down and gripping me in her hand, her shoulder rising off the bed as she pumps me.
I groan and my hips pulse into her. “You do?”
She bites her lip. “I like it inside of me. Bare. You’re the only man I’ve ever done that with.”
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever done that with,” I state, my tone serious as I gaze into her eyes. I’ve never even considered going without a condom with anyone else. But with Poppy, it was instinct. I think my body knew I wanted something different with her all along.
She stares at my mouth, an intensity in her eyes as she kisses my lips and whispers, “Fuck me, Booker.”
Her desperate words send a jolt of need through me. Thick, hot need. But with it comes a strange sense of disappointment, like her words are not enough. They lack the meaning and depth I’m feeling right now. Before I can expand on that thought, she spreads her legs and pulls me to her. I position myself between her legs, holding my weight up with my forearms as the tip of my cock grazes along her inner thigh. She squirms and situates me along her slit, biting her lip and nodding for me to enter her. I press in just a little bit and it feels so good, so perfect, I ignore the voice in the back of my head that’s confused about why her words disappointed me.
I flex my hips and thrust all the way into her. She throws her head back on the pillow, and the raspy cry she lets out has me nearly coming apart at the seams. She cups my face in her hands, quietly moaning “yes” over and over and over as I rock inside of her inch by incredible inch, taking in every part of her expressive face as she grips me.
“God, you feel good,” I groan into her chest as I watch myself disappear inside of her over and over again.
Feeling her like this and letting myself embrace it is intense. When we fucked before, it was frenzied and rushed and fuelled by lust. This is more. So much more. It’s slow and exploratory. There’s an awareness about everything that wasn’t there before. Allowing myself to give in to this feels extraordinary. Poppy is my best friend, and she knows me better than anyone. She meets my every thrust with perfect precision, like she was made for me.
Her body begins to grow tighter against mine. Her cries get louder. The words she utters push me into a passion I’ve never experienced. When her muscles begin to clamp down around me, I freeze, my face contorting with ecstasy. Her fingers dig into my sides. Her heels burrow into my thighs. Her voice croons out a sexy pitch as her orgasm detonates, squeezing me and pulling everything out of me and into her.
A possessiveness shudders over me as I fall down and hug her to my chest. I can’t get her close enough. I’ve hugged Poppy a million times before, but never like this. Never with this sense of complete abandon. I want to feel her in my bones. Wrap around her like a blanket.
Swallowing the last of her sexy noises, I kiss her mouth and her neck and every part of her beautiful sweat-slickened body, relishing in the fact that it’s utterly mental that being inside my best friend feels bloody perfect.
Maybe I’m the one who has lost my marbles.
WAKING UP NAKED ON TOPof Booker Harris definitely has its perks. For one, I can admire his gloriously naked body. The morning light slicing in through the window casts the perfect glow on every inch of his bare chest and abs. His mouth is slack, still obviously in deep sleep. But the way he tightens his grip around me even in his REM cycle feels as if I’m in a delicious dream that I haven’t woken up from yet.
But I am awake. So very awake. The soreness between my thighs is proof that this is not a dream. Booker and I did have sex, not once, but twice last night. The second time was by my prompting. I rolled over in the middle of the night and accidentally grazed the tip of his erection. He was out cold, yet he was still hard after going at it once already. The thought sent such a naughty thrill through me, I couldn’t help myself. I dipped under the covers and pulled him into my mouth. I’d barely started sucking before I was yanked up by his strong arms, rolled onto my back, and pinned beneath him. It was dark in his room, a faint light streaming in from the hallway that he’d purposefully left on for me. But I didn’t need to see much as he held my arms above my head and thrust inside of me so hard and so unapologetic, I nearly came on contact.
The complete trust and faith I have in him because of our history together makes sex so muchmore. Knowing that we know each other so well and that we are doing this together is completely liberating. It makes me brave and horny and excited and thrilled. He’s looking at me differently and letting me into his heart, which means I can finally embrace this dark part of my soul that I’ve silenced for far too many years.
I can let myself fall for my best friend.
“You’re awake,” Booker’s morning voice croaks as he stirs beneath me.
I smirk into his chest, biting my lip to stop myself from spewing out all the glorious thoughts raging through my mind. I feel them, but I sure as bloody hell can’t say them yet. “Yep.”
“What are you thinking about down there?” He reaches out to stroke a lazy thumb down my bare arm and I shiver into him.
“Just trying to figure out if dragging my tongue through the ridges of your abs would wake you or not.” I silently give myself a pat on the back for my very clever cover.
His belly shakes with a silent laugh. “Dragging your tongue on pretty much any part of me would wake me.”
I inhale deeply and look up at him. He props one hand behind his head and his bicep flexes a few times before relaxing. “Morning.”
