Page 123 of Wyatt

A shiver of anticipation darts up my spine as I tiptoe across the room and open the window.

“Hi,” he whispers, holding up a hand.

In reply, I grab the front of his shirt and pull him inside.

“Careful!” he hisses, and I can tell he’s fighting laughter when he lands on his feet.

I go up on my toes and kiss his mouth. “Did you come to rescue me?”

“That’s not what I came to do, no.” His hands find my ass, and he presses me against his erection.

“You missed me.”

“Obviously.” He leans down to suck on my neck. “You miss me, Sunshine?”

I grab the hem of my T-shirt and pull it over my head. I’m not wearing a bra, and the moonlight streaming through the window catches on my bare breasts. “So much, Wy. I can’t sleep.”

Even in the dark, I can see Wyatt’s jaw tic. “I can’t stay away.”

We attack each other. He fists his hand in my hair, and I push off his jacket. He pulls me in for a hard, hot kiss, and I shuck off my shorts. No underwear.

He backs me toward the bed, and I climb onto the mattress, careful not to make a sound. I watch Wyatt toe off his boots and take off his jeans and briefs. His dick stands upright, as huge and swollen as I remember it.

My clit pulses. Mouth salivates.

I bite back a cry when he slips a hand between my legs and parts me with his fingers.

He quietly curses at the slickness he finds there. “You been thinkin’ about me, huh?”

“Obviously,” I pant.

“Good.”

The idea that we could be caught—that my parents are sleeping just down the hall—is terrifying and also arousing in the extreme.

I feel naughty. Dirty even. And I like it.

I like it even more when Wyatt climbs on top of me, using his knee to part my legs.

There is no preamble. No foreplay. He hikes my knee up to his side and lines up his bare tip to my entrance. I feel the hot drip of his pre-cum as his whole body tenses and he pushes all the way inside me on a hard, punishing thrust.

The fullness is almost too much to bear. But Wyatt doesn’t give me time to catch my breath. Instead, he holds on to the headboard with one hand and holds the other over my mouth. He pumps into me with a slow, silent savageness that has me curling my toes.

“Make one fucking sound,” he whispers. “I dare you, Sunshine. I dare you to get us caught. What do you think your daddy would do if he saw us like this? His sweet little girl being fucked hard by her real daddy andlikingit.”

I bite his palm. He lets out a small scoff, settling his body on top of mine. The enormous weight of him pins me to the mattress. I can hardly breathe.

I love it.

I love the feeling of being surrounded. I’m at Wyatt’s mercy, yes. But he’d never hurt me.

He’ll always keep me—us—safe. And, God, I love him for it.

I love you, I love you, I’ll stay for you, I silently chant in time to his thrusts.

At the crest of a stroke, he swivels his hips, his pubic bone pressing against my clit, and my own hips punch forward, seeking. Hungry.

This hunger is killing me.