A Lesson in Blackmail - Black Mountain Academy

“Eeevelyyyn,” he singsongs, and I cover my mouth with my palm to keep from giggling, holding my breath and making my lungs feel like they’re on fire since they need me to pant for oxygen.

I step back and come up against the wall, my eyes widening at the slight sound, and I try to catch his movement somewhere in front of me.

“I hear you scurrying, little mouse,” he says, his sexy, deep voice low and promising wicked things.

I take a breath, still covering my mouth to silence the sound of it, and all I hear is the pounding of my pulse in my ears as I strain to find where he might be.

Everything has gone completely still, the library suddenly seeming eerie, a creepy feeling climbing up my spine and making me shiver. I have no idea where Nathaniel has gone. He never passed by the opening at the far end of this row of bookcases. I would have seen him in the light.

And just as I lower my hand, about to call out his name, I’m suddenly grabbed from the side, Nate’s voice rumbling, “Gotcha!” and I squeal as he picks me up. Even though I started this game and know it’s my lover who has me midair, my fight-or-flight instinct takes over, my adrenaline rushing throughout my entire body, and I push against him with all my strength, but I’m no match.

It’s so dark, and I have the feeling of flying through the air, and suddenly my back is against the wall, Nate’s powerful body pressed up against me, and my legs lock around him. I can’t see a fucking thing, so I have no time to fight when he takes both my hands and locks my wrists in one of his big mitts above my head.

“This what you want, Ms. Richards?” he drawls out my name. “You want the bad guy to chase you and fuck you in your library?” With his free hand, he reaches between us, unbuttons and unzips my slacks, and roughly shoves his hand into my panties, immediately sinking two fingers into my embarrassingly wet pussy and making me moan. “Ahhh, yeah. That’s exactly what you wanted, my dirty girl,” he whispers against my ear, sending a violent shiver throughout my entire body.

He finger-fucks me until I’m circling my hips, fucking myself on his thick digits, until I know my juices have to be drenching his entire hand.

With a growl, he orders, “Unlock your legs,” and I do as he says. He lets go of my hands, and I hear rather than see him dropping his pants, so I do the same, vaguely making note that he doesn’t even seem to think about his compulsive rituals as he hikes me back up against the wall before I even have a chance to take my panties off. He acts starved for me, as if he can’t wait to have me, as if he’ll die if he doesn’t take me right here and now.

Feeling the fabric blocking his entrance, he reaches between our bodies, takes hold of the crotch of my panties, and rips them away, the elastic digging sharply into my flesh before it snaps, but my blood is fueled with so much passion that the pain feels so good, adding to the desperation I feel for the man now filling me with one smooth, rough thrust of his cock, so deep I feel him slam into my cervix, and I cry out in ecstasy.

My arms come around him, and he takes hold of my thighs with his huge hands. My feet unlock as he uses his immeasurable strength to hold me up and fuck me against the wall of my library. No… not my library. Not my cute little library I have at home, safe where no one can find us. No.

The academy’s library.

His family’s academy’s library.

Where I work.

Where he’s a student.

Where my student, my lover, pounds his long, thick, steely cock into me over and over until I’m crying out with each thrust. Because he’s not holding back. He’s not keeping his control contained like he always did before me. He’s giving me everything he’s got, and while he’s fucking into me, he’s whispering things in my ear, dirty things, sweet things, promises that he’s never going to let me go, that I’m the only one he’ll ever want.

And I come. I come so long and hard that I can’t breathe as I let out a silent scream the entire length of my orgasm.

And if it weren’t for the feminine voice at the other end of the bookcase calling out “Ms. Richards, you okay?” I would’ve been lost to subspace once again.

But I’m not. Instead of floating above my body in blissful near-unconsciousness, I’m staring down the now lit tunnel of books into the face of my biggest nightmare.