Owen
“Owen!” Tanith hissed at me. “Our parents are here!”
“They’re in the auditorium,” I murmured, not dissuaded in the least from my occupation. I was on my knees and lifting the hem of her graduation robe to see if she were wearing knickers. And—ah, brilliant—there were no knickers to be found. Just silky, golden curls and the tight seam of her cunt.
“But the library isn’t locked, what if someone comes in—oh—”
“They can’t see us back here,” I assured her as I tickled my fingers across her soft skin. She shivered above me, her hand going to my shoulder to steady herself as I rubbed gently against her clit. “And you can’t tell me that you didn’t want this very thing to happen. You can’t tell me that you omitted wearing knickers this morning because you didn’t want to be fucked in your valedictorian robes.”
“But not in the library—Owen—!”
I’d buried my face in her curls while she was talking and then given her a long lick—a wet, hard one with the flat of my tongue on the needy little berry at the top of her pussy. Her hair had grown back, and I almost preferred it. “It won’t take long,” I promised, already pushing her thighs apart and giving her two thick fingers to ride while I serviced her clit. “You know how fast you come when we’re doing something dirty and wrong.”
She swore, but then both her hands were in my hair, and she was properly riding my face, arching against the bookshelf behind her, panting up at the ceiling.
I grinned evilly against her pussy. My dirty girl couldn’t hide her dirty secrets from me. Public sex, filthy sex, rough sex—she secretly craved it all. And while I’d never thought I’d be the public, filthy, rough type of geezer, either, this girl brought out the brute in me. She made me wild and desperate and crazed until nothing mattered but touching her. Tasting her. Losing myself inside her.
It took only another minute to get her there, to feel her pussy quiver against my touch, and then I was on my feet and inside her within seconds, our robes draping around us as I plunged deep and buried myself to the hilt.
God.
Her thighs around my hips. Her hot pussy around me. Her gorgeous, flushed face right there for me to kiss.
Maybe we could find a way to stay here forever . . .
Except my Tanith was too wonderful for that, and I’d never deprive her of that moment on the stage. She’d worked so blasted hard for it.
“My genius girl,” I crooned in her ear, grinding against her and savoring the feel of her wet silk massaging my cock. “My clever little valedictorian. You’re going to go up on that stage full of me, aren’t you? You’re going to walk up there with your thighs all slick from all the filthy things you just did and you’re going to give your little speech about hard work and the future and no one’s going to know the things you do in the shadows with me because you just can’t help yourself.”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Harder.”
“You want more, baby?” I asked, nipping at her ear. “You feel wild with how much you want it?”
“I want to make you lose control,” she panted, her hips lifting to meet my strokes.
“You’ve done that since Ibiza,” I replied, unwrapping her legs from my waist and setting her carefully on her feet. I spun her around, guided her hands to the bookshelves so she could brace herself there, and then I hiked up her graduation robe and guided my tip to her slit again. She was slick enough to part beautifully for me, but it was still a stretch. I could still see the obscene way my organ parted her cunt to rut inside. “You’ve made me wild ever since that first kiss—wild to have you as my own.”
In this position, I could easily stroke her clit, which I did as my other hand greedily palmed her breast.
“And you’re going to be mine for a very long time, aren’t you?” I purred, knowing it wasn’t fair to ask this when I had her hovering at the edge of a climax. I didn’t care. Ever since I’d come so close to losing her, I knew I would do anything to keep her. Even if it meant keeping her so well-pleasured that she decided to have me around just for orgasms.
“Yes,” she breathed, her body tightening around me. “A long time. Harder, Owen. I’m so close.”
“My good girl needs it hard between her legs, doesn’t she? She can’t even make it half a day without my cock.”
She moaned her assent, rocking back to meet me thrust for thrust as I worked the stiff bud at the top of her cunt. And then in only a few more seconds, she was falling over the edge again. I wanted to fuck her like this forever, with her pussy fluttering its pleasure around me, with our robes shoved up to our waists, with this raw, urgent lust coursing through my veins . . . but I couldn’t. Not yet, at least.
“After graduation,” I said, my voice rough and hoarse with my impending orgasm, “you’re mine. Four weeks. All fucking mine.”
She had a break before she started her new official part-time job as an editorial assistant at Gotham Girl, and I planned to take advantage of it. She’d worked her arse off for years both at Pembroke and at her fellowship and internship, and she deserved some rest and relaxation before she dove back into the hustle and bustle of publishing life. (Obviously, in this case, rest and relaxation meant my tongue in her pussy for hours at a time.)
“Yes,” she replied in a sensual rasp. “I can’t wait. I’m going to ride your face every single day.”
The image had me growling, licking my lips like a hungry wolf. Then I was abruptly unloading into her, spurting my release deep into her pussy and practically snarling as I did so, grabbing her hips so I could pump even deeper. So I could claim her even more. Because when she dropped her robe and tidied up her hair, she’d go on that stage and she’d belong to the world. She’d belong to herself and to the future she’d fought so hard to make a reality.
But when we were alone, she belonged to me.
And I planned to keep it for as many tomorrows as she would let me have.
* * *
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