Nights of Temptation

Behind the Book Stacks

The library was quiet enough to hear the soft hum of the air conditioning. Elena loved nights like this when the world outside faded and she could lose herself in books. Her tote bag landed softly as she set it on the long wooden table by the window. She slid her glasses on as she brushed stray strands of hair behind her ear, and opened her laptop.

She didn’t notice him right away, not until she stretched her back and looked down the rows of tall shelves did she see Professor Mason with sharp eyes, fitted shirt and hands in his pockets walking slowly towards her. Her heart did a little jump.

“Burning the midnight oil, Elena?” His voice sounded low and smooth, like it didn’t want to disturb the silence around them.

She smiled nervously. “Always.”

He came closer, “I could help. What are you working on?”

She glanced down at the stack of books, philosophy and history…well, heavy reading for someone her age. “Just research. Nothing exciting.”

“I disagree.” He leaned against her table, looking down at her with the kind of focus that made her core throb “Anything you’re working on is worth my time.”

It wasn’t unusual for a professor to take interest in his student. But it was the way he said it, the way his gaze lingered too long on her mouth before flicking back up to her eyes, that made her stomach coil.

She told herself to focus on the words on her laptop screen, but she felt the weight of his presence too heavy on her.

“Here,” he said softly, pointing to a passage as the scent of his cologne….clean and masculine, with a bit of spice, wrapped around her like invisible hands.

Elena’s pulse quickened. She swallowed hard, whispering, “You shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” His breath brushed against her ear, raising goosebumps on her skin. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

The silence grew heavy but was broken only by the faint rustle of pages turning in the distance. Someone else was in the library, but far away enough and the knowledge made her blood race faster.

Mason leaned closer. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured.

Instead, she shifted in her chair, her thighs pressing together deliciously under the table and her silence was enough permission for him.

He straightened up, his jaw tight as though he was holding himself back. Then, with a flick of his eyes, he motioned toward the stacks of books where no one would see them.

Elena hesitated only for a moment before standing up. She followed him into the shelves until the glow of the desk lamps faded and they were wrapped in shadows.

When he finally turned to face her, he was no longer her professor. He was now a man who had wanted her for too long and was going to have her.

His hand cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek before his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that tasted of restraint breaking apart. She gasped, her fingers grabbing his shirt as he pressed her back against the shelves. Their kiss was equal parts tongue and teeth as it was hungry and desperate.

He hiked her skirt up roughly, his palms squeezing her thighs until she whimpered. His fingers slid under her panties, and she gasped into his mouth when he found her slick, swollen heat.

“Jesus, Elena…” he growled softly, his breath hot in her ear. “You’re so dripping wet for me.”

Her hips jerked as his fingers circled her c**t, teasing, pressing, slipping lower to push inside her. The wet sound of his fingers moving in and out of her made her cheeks burn with shame and excitement.

“Mason…please,” she whispered, gripping the shelf so hard the books tilted and threatened to fall.

He yanked his hand back then tugged her panties aside. The clink of his belt was sharp in the silence, followed by his zipper. Her heart thundered in her ears as he freed his thick and hard c**k, then pressing it against her slick entrance.

He slid in slowly but firm at first, stretching her until she cried out softly, biting her fist to muffle it.

“f**k,” he hissed, burying himself deeper. “You feel so tight… so goddamn good. You're f*****g perfect.”

Then he picked up the pace with every thrust rocking her against the shelf, books shifting with the rhythm. The wet slap of his hips against hers echoed faintly in the quiet rows. She arched her back, her skirt hooked around her waist and her panties pulled to the side as he f****d her harder and faster.

Her moans came in ragged whispers, each one bitten back so no one would hear, the risk of discovery making every movement hotter. She felt his hand circle around her hip as his thumb found her c**t, pumping roughly until her knees nearly gave out.

Her orgasm hit hard, too sudden. She trembled, her thighs shaking and her nails scratching the wood as she convulsed around his c**k, her body squeezing him tight, milking him.

Mason groaned low in her ear, still thrusting harder and deeper, losing rhythm. His breath grew ragged as he felt his own orgasm building. His thrust became wild as his c*m spilled inside her, his eyes rolling back as his entire body shuddered from the intensity of his release.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their panting, the faint creak of the shelf under their weight, and the risk that someone could still walk by and see them.

He kissed her neck, softer now, before pulling out. She felt his c*m drip down her thighs as he adjusted her skirt back into place, both of them trembling with the aftershock of what they had just done.