“Would you stop, you’re worse than a mother hen.” Oliver slaps at my hands as I inspect his ribs for the fiftieth time today. The guilt of what happened a few days ago is still fresh. Like a newly stitched wound, it stings and burns.
“I’m sorry,” I pout, “I just feel terrible about what happened, and you wince every time you walk. It makes me…”
“Stop,” Oliver orders his voice strong, powerful, and way too loud for the library. “You’ve been beating yourself up for days over this, and it’s not your fault.” Leaning into my side, he twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “I’m glad it was me. I would much rather feel this than ever see you bruised and in pain. If it were you that was hurt, you know damn well my brothers, and I would most likely be dead by now, trying to kill those fuckers.”
I shiver involuntarily, the gruffness of his voice, the truth in his words. They light a flame of pleasure in my core. I still want to be the one to rescue myself, but there isn’t any harm in letting a man cherish my body, my heart. Or letting three do so, all at once.
“I know, you’ve said that a few times now, but I still feel bad.”
“Well, don’t… in fact…” He presses a kiss to the sensitive spot right below my ear, and I already know what he’s thinking. Mostly because I’m thinking it too. Tenderly he sucks on the flesh, and I find my fingers circling around the pencil a little tighter.
“I can’t focus with you doing that…” My voice is breathless, my thoughts swirling, heading to a place that involves both of us naked, sweating, and not doing homework.
“That’s the point, baby,” he whispers into the shell of my ear, before scraping his teeth across the flesh that he just sucked on. The sensation is like fire and ice. Pain and pleasure.
My nipples harden against the fabric of my bra, and I drop my pencil. Oliver lets out a low chuckle, and together we shove everything into our backpacks. Before I can start walking toward the exit, he takes my hand in his and tugs me toward him.
Giving him a confused look, I let him guide me wherever it is he wants to take me. A short walk later, we’re in what looks to be an upper part of the library. Old books surround us, and dust clings to the air like it’s a second skin. Oliver pulls me over to a door that has a little sign on it that says DO NOT ENTER.
“What are we doing?” I whisper, afraid that we’ll get caught being somewhere that we clearly shouldn’t be.
“Fucking,” Oliver grins at me over his shoulder, “that is if you want to.” The way his teeth sink into his bottom lip, and the deepness of his voice as he speaks, it all acts as a firework to my already throbbing center.
Closing the door behind us, I don’t wait to ask him any more questions. I want him, and I want him now. Like a hungry kitten, I pounce, gently shoving him against a nearby bookcase. He grins down at me, two beautiful dimples appearing on his face.
“You’re so fucking beautiful and perfect, Harlow. I know you think that everything bad that happens is your fault, but you don’t see the joy that you bring. You don’t see how happy you make us; how much better our lives are because of you.”
I gasp, because his words touch me, not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes the gnawing guilt a little more bearable.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper, pushing up on to my tiptoes. Slanting my lips against his, I kiss him with a hunger that rivals all others. And he gives it right back to me, biting at my bottom lip, and squeezing my hips in a way that makes me groan deeply into his mouth.
Our tongues collide, and in this moment, he’s thunder, and I’m lightning. The perfect elements for a storm. Brushing my chest against his, I wonder if he can feel how hard my nipples are, how much they ache to be in his mouth?
Breaking the kiss, he nudges me backward until my ass hits the edge of a desk. I’m grinning like a fool, my hands slip under his shirt, and move over the perfectly sculpted muscles there. He’s ripped, and all I can think about is kissing each and every little bruise, tending to his every want and need.
Before I can get that far though, he’s on me, his hands tugging at my shirt, his mouth sucking at my flesh. All I can hear is our heavy pants and my own pulse in my ears. With my shirt off, he pushes my bra straps off my shoulders and removes each breast from its cup before taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth.
My fingers cut through his hair, and I hold his head in place as pleasure flickers deep inside my core.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I pant, wondering if he’s going to get me off with nothing but his tongue on my nipple.
“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t,” he smirks around my nipple, releasing it with a loud pop so he can pay the other side the same attention. I can feel how wet I am for him already and know it won’t take much to make me come.
“Pants,” he orders, reminding me that I’ve still got them on. While he peppers kisses against my chest, I undo the button on my jeans and slide them down my thighs, kicking them away once they reach my feet.
Oliver breaks away to undo his own bottoms, and within seconds we’re both naked. Even in the dim lighting of the room, I can see that his cock is swollen and angry looking. There’s a drop of pre-cum on the tip that I crave to lick away.
“My eyes are up here,” he says, chuckling, and I can’t help but smile.
His hands trail down my body until they reach my hips, once there they come to a stop, he squeezes my flesh before lifting me to place my ass at the edge of the table.
“I have to taste you right now.” The urgency in his voice confirms his need, and with a gentle nudge, I’m on my back and lifting my hips for him to pull my panties off. Peeling the silky fabric down my legs, I can’t help but grin as he tosses them to the floor and presses my knees to my chest. Leaning in, he gives me one long lick.
“Oh, god…” I mumble at the onslaught of sensations. My fingers grip on to the edge of the table as he does it all over again, spreading my lips with his fingers. That skilled tongue of his flicks against my swollen clit, and I gush like a waterfall, my legs shaking as he sucks the tiny bud into his mouth. Heat rises in my cheeks, and my entire body warms as lightning rods of pleasure zing up my spine.
“Come for me, come all over my tongue.” Oliver’s husky voice vibrates through my core, and within seconds I’m falling apart, my hips bucking against his face as he continues licking me, savoring every last drop of my release as if it’s a fine wine.
Like a wave, I come crashing back down, my body a liquid mass against the table. Oliver moves from between my legs, coming to stand. There’s a carnal look in his eyes, and in that moment, I’m ensnared, trapped in his web, a willing victim to the pleasure he’ll bring me.
Through hooded eyes, I watch him stroke his cock. One stroke. Two strokes. My mouth waters. I want him. Need him.
“Please,” I whisper, my eyes pleading.
He smirks, “Please, what? Say it. Ask me.”
My cheeks flame, but I say it anyway because I’m no longer a shy, naive, virgin. I’m a woman who is loved by three different men. “Please, fuck me.”
“Gladly,” he growls, gripping on to one hip with a possessiveness that makes me warm inside. Bringing his cock to my wet entrance, he enters me in one thrust, and for one tiny second, all is right in the world. Nothing but us matters. Not what could happen tomorrow, not my father, not anything. There is just us and our joined bodies.
“Fuck me, you’re so tight, and warm, and shit, I’m not going to last if you keep squeezing me like that.”
All I can do is whimper as he thrusts in and out of me, expelling every last ounce of carnal need that he has. Reaching for him, I let my fingers roam over his perfectly sculpted abs and chest. We’re both burning up, on the verge of combusting.
The telltale signs of an orgasm start to snake up my spine. My toes curl, and my chest rises and falls rapidly, and though air fills my lungs, it feels like I can’t breathe. Like I’m free-falling out of the sky. It’s coming faster than usual, and Oliver must know it because he too starts to thrust harder and faster, bringing me to the edge of the cliff in nothing more than a few strokes.
“I’m coming,” I pant, my nails raking across his flesh.
“Yes, come for me. Squeeze me. Milk my cock.” His filthy mouth only encourages me, and within seconds I’m shattering like glass that’s been squeezed too tightly. My hips buck, and my eyes flutter closed as euphoric pleasure consumes me, wrapping me in a blanket of warmth.
As I’m coming down from my high, floating through the sky like a feather, Oliver starts to fall apart, his movements grow jerky, and I open my eyes to stare up at him, needing to see him come undone.
The brown of his eyes is darker now, and he bites on his bottom lip to stifle a groan. Damn is he sexy. I want to make him feel the same way he made me feel.
“Come inside me, please...” I lick my lips and wait with bated breath for him to fill me with his come.
“Fucking Christ, Harlow,” he curses, squeezing my hips with both hands. His hips piston, and all I can feel is him impaling me, breaking me apart to piece me back together again. And I love it. I love him. Three thrusts later and with a groan, I’m pretty sure the entire library heard, he starts to come, his cock pulsing deep inside of me, filling me with his sticky release.
Completely spent and satisfied, he sags against me, his sweaty forehead pressing against mine. Holding him close, I smile, feeling as if I’m on top of the world. I can feel the heat of his release dripping out of me and on to my thighs, his cock still inside of me, still partially hard.
“That was amazing,” Oliver pants, “are you okay?” Always so sincere, so caring. That’s Oliver, though. He always makes sure that I’m okay. That I came.
“Yes. I’m more than okay,” I smile.
“Good, because it’s been a while since I came apart that easily,” the blistering smile he gives me warms me from the inside out. After a few minutes of lying together, we get up, and he helps me put my clothes back on, minus my panties. He puts those in his pocket as a souvenir.
As I’m sliding my backpack on, he pulls out his phone.
“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath. “We’re going to be late.”
“Ugh, not again,” I groan, all while smiling. After what we did, I would say showing up late to class was worth it.
“I won’t have time to walk you in to your class if I want to get to my class without being scolded by the professor. So, I’ll walk you to the building and then head across the street.”
“Okay,” I grab onto his hand, and together we walk back down the stairs and into the lower part of the library. As we pass by people, it feels like they are all staring at us, almost like they know what we were doing. Maybe they heard us? But since none of them snicker or smile as we pass, they must not have heard us. I tell myself it’s all in my head.
Exiting the library, we hurry across campus and to class. When we reach the sidewalk, we part ways, Oliver pressing a hurried kiss to my lips before seeing me off. As I walk down the sidewalk and enter the building, I give him a little wave and smile before disappearing from view.
When I’m in the building, I realize how late I really am, and instead of walking up the stairs, I basically run, taking two steps at a time.
By the time I reach the top, I have a hard time breathing. Shit, I didn’t realize how out of shape I am. Maybe I need to start working out.
Taking a few steps, slower this time, I try to regulate my breathing, but it seems to only get worse. This weird feeling that something is wrong overcomes me. I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Not sure what’s going on, so I continue onward, hoping that it’ll pass. I’m about halfway down the hall when a wave of dizziness crashes into me. It comes out of nowhere and nearly takes me out at the knees. Closing my eyes, I lean against the cold brick wall.
Maybe I just need to do some deep breathing. Forcing air into my lungs, I try and focus on nothing more than my breaths. Sweat beads above my brow, the breathing obviously not helping as my entire body suddenly starts to feel like it’s been lit on fire.
Knots of worry tighten in my gut. I don’t know what’s going on with my body anymore. Another wave of dizziness sends my mind spiraling. I can’t even open my eyes without the world spinning around me, and the panic I feel seems to only make it worse.
All at once, my vision goes black, my eyes grow heavier and heavier until I close them again. My mind slowly slipping into unconsciousness. I try to open my eyes again, but I can’t. They just won’t budge. Faintly, I’m aware of footsteps approaching, and someone asking me if I’m okay. I want to tell them no, that I’m not, but my tongue won’t work. All words refuse to be coaxed from my mouth.
Another wave of dizziness overcomes me, and this time when it crashes down, it brings with it the power to snap me in two. Reaching out, I attempt to find something along the wall to support my body. I know I’m going to go down, I can feel it in my gut.
A hand brushes against my arm just as my knees give out and my body folds in half. I’m only partially aware of my body sagging to the floor, my knees slamming against the tile. I don’t even feel the impact, there is no pain.
There is nothing but darkness.