by Harper James
I flush, flattered and excited and overwhelmed by everything. Sebastian seems to do everything big— football, personality, kissing, sex, gestures like this one. Every time I find myself hesitating or questioning, he’s storming forward fearlessly. I don’t understand how he does it— how can he be so sure about me, when we’ve only just met? He doesn’t even know who I really am.
I swallow. Will he change, when he finds out? He doesn’t appear to be keeping any secrets from me, be they of his past or his heart, and here I am passing up each and every opportunity to tell him the truth.
“Sebastian,” I say, voice a little unsteady. I need to tell him, now, before it becomes a lie rather than a secret.
But Sebastian checks his phone and then starts to walk toward the law library. “Hurry, she’s here,” he says cryptically, and I follow behind him, up a few steps and to the library’s massive doors. Even with the doors shut, a peppery, dry scent wafts from the building— the scent of old books, a scent I know well from my own time spent in libraries. I smile and lean harder into Sebastian, touched and astounded and happy in a way that’s hardly recognizable as those emotions— I just feel bright, like I’m glowing.
It isn’t long before a girl appears. She looks to be a touch older than me, and is holding a keyring with an impossible number of keys on it.
“Hurry up, before someone sees,” she calls frantic.
She inserts a key into the door and pushes it open, then darts inside before us; I hear beeping as she turns an alarm off, then she waves us in.
Sebastian looks around. “Cool place,” he says.
“Alright, here are the rules,” she says sternly to Sebastian. “Don’t mess anything up, be out by seven-thirty, and know the door locks behind you. Got it?”
“Got it. And thanks, again,” Sebastian says sincerely.
The girl exhales. “You can tell Parker he owes me bigtime for waking me up at three o’clock in the morning.”
“He knows,” Sebastian says. “And thanks.”
“Just don’t make me regret it,” she replies, and then quickly exits.
I shake my head in disbelief at him, and step into the library.
The girl must have turned on a few lights— there are sconces here and there glowing dimly, though the place is still largely dark and mysterious, a building of tucked away corners and eaves. There are three stories of books and shelves at the edges of the room, but they look more like circular balconies of books, complete with wooden railings. The ceiling is domed, and there’s a large study area at the library’s center; the shelves branch off from it at the sides of the room, like rays of sunshine. Each study table— all antique-looking— has a little green and gold lamp attached. As we make our way inside, past a vacant attendant’s desk, the sound of my feet on the hardwood floor sound like thunderclaps. My heart is pounding— sneaking into buildings after hours is very much not in the Ashlynn Sawyer playbook, and while I’m not exactly scared, I do feel alive and electric at my rebellion.
Sebastian walks up to one of the lamps at the study tables, then pulls the cord to flick it on. It shines like a candle in the dim, making the muscles on Sebastian’s arms looks all that much bigger for the shadows they cast.
“Look up,” Sebastian says, and I do, then gasp. The domed ceiling already looked impressive, but now that I’m directly under it— and now that there’s a bit more light— I see that it’s not just domed, but carved and painted and embossed with gold and silver designs. It’s stunning, almost cathedral-like.
“It’s got to be the most beautiful college library in the world,” I mutter, spinning in place, staring up. “Can you imagine studying here?”
Sebastian shrugs. “Not really.”
I roll my eyes at him good-naturedly. “It’d be a great place to study! Better than my bedroom, anyway.”
“What about my bedroom?” Sebastian asks, stepping closer to me, voice daring and flirty.
“In your bedroom I suspect I wouldn’t get much work done,” I answer, starting to lose my breath with the way he’s watching me.
He takes another step, and I back up into the edge of the study table. Sebastian is staring at me— I love knowing he wants me like this, and I can feel my body responding. His eyes draw down my breasts, my hips, my legs.
“No,” he finally answers without meeting my eyes. “You wouldn’t get much work done in my bedroom. When I’m alone with you it’s just too hard for me to not take your clothes off.”
“I could always study naked,” I say, voice rocky, barely holding on as he stares at me. I find myself inching up onto the desk, wood smooth and sleek from probably decades of use.
“You know, I don’t think that’ll work either,” he growls, though he still sounds so loud in the quiet. I smile at him, then glance back up at the ceiling, at my surroundings. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. No one has ever put so much thought into making me happy. My gaze slips back to Sebastian’s; I keep my eyes on his as I slowly draw my knees apart. Sebastian’s breath grows ragged; he puts a hand on my knee, then slides it up my thigh until his thumb is nestled against my clit. Even through my jeans, I moan when he begins to massage me there.
“Believe it or not, I didn’t plan to fuck you here,” Sebastian says.
“I don’t believe it,” I whisper back, pulsing my hips in time with Sebastian’s touch.
“I didn’t plan on it. I hoped for it, though. But I’m always hoping to fuck you,” Sebastian says, and steps between my knees, holding them apart. He leans his head down and kisses me, hard and demanding. I open my mouth to let him in, to let his tongue sweep along mine. I reach back to keep from falling down, but I know if Sebastian wants me on my back, he’ll make it happen. How could I stop him, even if I wanted to?
And I don’t want to, of course. I never want to.
16
Sebastian doesn’t urge me onto my back, though; he instead grabs the front of my jeans and nearly destroys the button unfastening it. He keeps his eyes on mine, dark and shadowed and dangerous as he wrestles the jeans off my hips. It isn’t until he’s tossed my shoes aside and gotten the jeans off entirely that I totally connect where we are with what we’re about to do.
“Sebastian,” I say, suddenly nervous, eyes skirting along the elaborate moldings, the dim sconces, the attendant’s desk up front. “There are probably cameras in here.”
“Possibly.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” I protest, though I’m making no real effort to close my legs— I can’t anyhow, not with Sebastian positioning himself between my thighs, wrapping my legs around his hips.
His eyes are wicked and dangerous. “Possibly.” Then he places his hands on my thighs, running his thumbs down to my pussy, still hidden beneath panties that are way too boring for what’s happening right now. He licks his lips as he presses his thumbs against the fabric there. I’m already wet despite my nerves; when I soak through the material, Sebastian gives a throaty, pleasured sort of sigh. I moan as he moves one thumb to my clit, leaving the other at my entrance, and rubs at both places gently, taking his time.
My arms tremble and I’m forced to lie back down before I collapse backward. Sebastian responds by linking a finger through my panties; his skin brushing so directly against me makes me shudder. I expect him to yank my panties off with the same hurry he’d disposed of my jeans, but instead he pulls them to one side, lowers his mouth to my pussy, and kisses my clit. His lips move slowly on me, sucking, licking, treating my clit the same way he’d treat my lips, and before I can stop myself a long, desperate whine rises from my throat. He then licks the length of me, stopping only to slide his tongue a bit, tasting me.
“You’re very wet, Ashlynn,” he murmurs against my inner thigh, his breath hot, lips grazing my skin as he speaks. I try to respond, but words escape me. My eyes drift shut as he licks me again, flicking his tongue back and forth along my clit until I groan in pleasure, staring at the domed ceiling and wondering how, exactly, I’m
here with Sebastian Slate. How Sebastian knows exactly how to work me, how he can make me wet with barely more than a touch.
“Sebastian,” I whisper, heady and a little drunk from his touch. “You’re perfect.”
He rises and slips a finger into my pussy, rubbing it along my front wall in that way that makes my hips buck. My lips part, I don’t want to orgasm this soon but--
“Shhh,” Sebastian says as he softens the pressure against me, and instead lightly finger fucks me for a few moments, a gentle promise of what’s to come. I’m still trembling as I sit up, grinding my pussy against his finger as I do so, my brows knit together in desire.
“Oh shit,” I whimper. Sebastian leans forward and kisses me; I can taste myself on him, and it turns me on even more, knowing where he was, knowing how deftly his mouth worked on me. He pulls his fingers from me, continues to kiss me as he slides his own pants off; I feel his cock fall forward and rest against my stomach. It’s thick and hard and I want it in me so, so badly that I nearly hurt from the desire. I reach down and take him in my hands, pumping my fists up and down. Sebastian groans and rests his head against my shoulder, kissing my neck, nipping at the skin just hard enough that it skirts the line of pleasure and pain. I edge my hips forward and try to position Sebastian to enter me—
“Slow down, Ashlynn,” he says, lips dancing across my cheeks. “We have all night.”
“But I need you,” I answer breathlessly.
“It’s coming, baby,” he answers, then puts a knee up on the table, straddling me, pushing me flat on my back. He towers over me, cock long and dangerous looking from this angle— which from the look on Sebastian’s face, I think he likes. He braces himself, putting his hands above my head, and then lowers his cock toward my mouth. I won’t be able to release him, I realize, if he fucks my mouth deeper than I can handle, and just before he pushes past my lips I tilt my head back so my eyes meet his, hoping my worry is clear without having to explain it like some scared schoolgirl.
“You’ll be okay,” Sebastian reassures me in a whisper. “I know what you can handle. Trust me.”
I take a breath, but nod slightly; Sebastian lowers his cock into my mouth, moaning as he slides along my tongue, filling my throat with himself. I lift my arms and wrap them around his hips as best I can, trying to relax, trying to massage him. He begins to fuck my mouth in short, shallow strokes, each time coming threateningly close to the point where I can’t take any more of him, and each time backing away millimeters before I panic. I find myself arching my back, opening wider to take more of him in, flicking my tongue against his head as he enters me. It’s incredibly arousing— so much so that I remove one hand from his back and slide it down to my pussy, rubbing my own soaked clit as I take his cock.
Sebastian groans, then pulls his cock from my mouth. He looks down at me through his arms when he sees that I’m touching myself. He swings one leg over my head, leaving me bare for an instant, then picks me up off the table, cradling me in his arms. Sebastian doesn’t hesitate; he lies back down on the table, then positions me on top of him, my head toward his cock and my pussy over his face. He pulls my hips down to his mouth and slides his tongue into me.
I cry out, loud, the sound echoing off every hard surface in the library— but I no longer care about cameras or privacy or anything beyond my want for more of Sebastian in me, now. I lift his cock toward my lips— I’m so much shorter than him that my mouth can’t reach his entire cock, not if I’m to leave my pussy against his lips, but I still take his head into my mouth and suck it lovingly, circling it with my tongue, pumping my fists up and down as he hardens even more against my touch. My own hips begin to pulse with Sebastian’s mouth; I ride against his tongue until he puts his hands on my ass, pulling me down hard against his face.
He pulls his tongue from my pussy and, for a moment, I think he’s going to sit back and enjoy my mouth on him— but then he does the unexpected, and licks not toward my clit, but back, along my slit, to my ass. I panic, for an instant— no one has ever touched me there, not really, and they certainly haven’t licked me there. Sebastian spanks me lightly in admonishment, and keeps moving. He tongues lightly at my ass, and I can’t believe how much I like it— how much I want more. Is there anything I won’t let this guy do to me? I suck on him harder, rocking his cock from side to side in my mouth, swirling it along my tongue. Sebastian moves his mouth back to my pussy, but his fingers find my ass and he rubs me there, never quite entering me, but pressing just hard enough that I want him to.
He’s so hard now that I can barely even manipulate his cock into my mouth. When I fight to suck on him one more time, he lets out a throaty, guttural noise, then swings my hips off his face. We’re both still in shirts, I realize— we haven’t even undressed entirely, but as Sebastian pulls my legs forward, off the edge of the desk, I know he can’t wait any longer. Neither can I.
I think he’s going to wrap my legs around his waist, but instead he flips me onto my stomach, leaving my legs planted firmly on the floor. He grabs hold of my arms and pulls them up above my head, easily pinning them down with one hand, preventing me from squirming or fighting him— not that I’d want to. He uses his free hand to position himself, and when I feel him at my pussy, I moan in want, in need. Sebastian slows and takes a breath, trying to calm himself, and I can’t understand why.
“Please,” I say, trying to jut my hips backward. “Sebastian.”
He takes another hard breath. “We— the condoms. I didn’t think, I didn’t know we would do this in here. They’re in the car.” He’s fighting the urge to fuck me, his voice low and desperate and rocky.
I take a breath, squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m on birth control,” I say, gasping. Which, I know, isn’t the only reason to wear a condom— but this is Sebastian. I trust him.
“Are you sure?” he asks chokingly.
“I trust you,” I answer. “I trust you.”
He growls, then thrusts forward and enters me swiftly; we both cry out, loud, in pleasure. I can feel everything, like this, every pulse, every flex of his cock, the contours of him as he thrusts into me, threatening my walls and stretching me to the edge of pain. He makes me feel so full, and each time I think he’s as far in me as he can possibly get, he pushes further. He’s still holding back, I realize in disbelief. I don’t know how he can stand to do it.
Sebastian leans over me, keeping my arms locked down, fucking me in long, easy strokes. I push back against him, arch my back so that his cock rubs against my pussy in a way that makes it feel like there are fireworks in my bloodstream. I’m sweating, and hazy, and I’m going to come— I’m going to come hard, an orgasm that’s been threatening me ever since Sebastian’s fingers stroked my clit. I try to tell Sebastian, but I can’t find the words— and I think he knows, based on the way he begins to grind into me, pushing himself deeper and rocking his hips in a way that urges moans from my throat.
“Go on,” he says, voice guttural. “Come for me Ashlynn.”
I want to wait— I want to come with him, I want to feel him come inside me. I’ve never had anyone come in me— I’ve never had sex without a condom. But I want it now, I want to feel it, I want to hear him yell out into the darkened library alongside me. I can’t fight it much longer though, not the way he’s taking me. He must realize what I’m trying to do, because he suddenly grabs my left leg and, in a single sweeping motion, flips me onto my back, all without ever leaving my pussy.
“Look at me, baby,” he says in a whisper as he pulls me closer against him, pushing his cock deeper into me. I move to wrap my legs around his waist, but he catches me by the ankles and instead lifts my legs up and sets them both on his left shoulder. The act means my hips twist and lift— and it feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
My face contorts in pleasure just at the repositioning, and Sebastian clenches his jaw as he moves deliberately, his hips in time with my own. He holds my legs tightly as he begins to thrust again, all while keepin
g his eyes locked on mine. When my eyes threaten to close, he slaps me on the ass, harder than he has before but in a way that makes me feel wild and desperate. “Look at me while you come. Look at me while I come inside you.”
“Sebastian,” I whine, the only word I’m able to pull from my chest. But then I’m done— the orgasm tears through my body, lightening and fire and bliss that makes me scream, arch upward, fist my fingers and feeling like I may explode from the pleasure of it all. I barely even hear Sebastian groan, but in the midst of my world shattering in the best way, I feel his cock clench in me, and then pulse as he comes deep in my pussy, his hands tightening over my legs. I’m reduced to a trembling, happy disaster, splayed across a study desk in a law library. I can’t stop smiling, even through my gasping breaths.
Sebastian regains control of himself and looks up at me, his brow sweaty and his hands shaking against my legs. He bites his lip and slowly, cautiously, pulls his cock from my soaked pussy. He watches as he does this, seemingly pleased with his work, and I love that expression on his face. I love knowing he came in me, I love knowing his pleasure matched my own. He eases my legs down, then climbs onto the desk beside me, lying on his side so we fit together. I tuck my head against his chest, inhaling the hot, spicy scent of his body.
“Perfect,” I remind him breathlessly.
“Only because I’m with you,” he answers, and ducks his head down to kiss me, our lips trembling together in exhaustion and delight.
17
We lie together for another hour, until the first hints of sunlight appear in the library’s upper windows. The building takes on an otherworldly quality, at this hour— a mix of shadow and light, more like a forest than a manmade room. I’d lie here with Sebastian for a few more hours, frankly, if it weren’t for our promise to get out the door.
I expect it, but it’s disappointing all the same when it locks behind us.