Sabrina licked her crimson lips, adjusted the low V of her scarlet satin blouse a bit lower, the black mini a bit higher. She admired the toned cut of her thigh muscles and the creamy swell of her breasts in the glass as she pushed through the double doors of the county library on ice-pick, black-patent stilettos. She could do this. If her heart was beating a bit too fast and her breathing was a bit, well, breathy, that would just help set the stage.
Mr. I’m-Too-Shy-To-Ask-You-Out was going to get a Valentine’s Day surprise like no other.
She’d timed her entry carefully, just a few moments before closing. The parking lot outside had already emptied of all but her prey’s vehicle, and as the doors closed behind her, the lights in the back began to click off, row by row.
Perfect.
At the check-out counter, Sabrina cleared her stage. She shoved a stack of books off to the side, tossed file folders on the desk chair, then topped them off with the computer, complete with mouse and keyboard. Stage set. Now for the centerpiece.
Hopping up on the counter, she arranged herself along its length, her legs crossed, the top knee bent just so. Her head propped on one hand, Sabrina posed the other at her hip, feet dangling. She made sure the mini skirt rode right below the Promised Land over her bare legs, the V in her blouse more than hinting at the braless contents beneath the satin. She tossed her long chocolate-brown hair over her shoulder and planted a come-hither smile on her lips just as Robert strode around the corner of the closest aisle of books.
Then had to stop that smile from turning into a triumphant grin when Robert stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape, as books tumbled from his grasp.
“Wha-wha—?” he choked out as she all but saw his tongue roll up in his mouth. And didn’t he look adorable in his blue button-down and wire-rimmed glasses? She was going to take him from Clark Kent to Superman in zero-to-sixty.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Robert,” Sabrina said, her voice a low purr, just as she’d practiced. This seduction thing wasn’t so hard after all. He was already shaking in his black leather loafers.
“What are you doing?” he finally got out. “Um, doing here,” he amended, blushing (and wasn’t that adorable, too?), because it was probably quite obvious, even to him, exactly what she was doing.
“Why, waiting for you, of course.” She smiled at him again, that slow, slow smile, the one she knew raised his blood pressure several notches whenever she laid it on him, which was as often as possible. Not that he’d done anything about it, but she was going to change that.
Right now.
Enjoying her temptress role even more than she’d expected, Sabrina stroked a red-tipped fingernail over the rope of pearls circling her neck. She even batted her lashes.
“For—for me?” Clearly the oxygen had left the building. She’d never seen him so incoherent. “What—what happened to you?” he asked, waving his hand to encompass her transformation from dowdy librarian to, she hoped, sultry siren. Amazing what a pair of contact lenses and a day at the spa could do for a girl. She was buffed, polished, and decked out in her best friend’s recommendation for total seduction success.
So far, so good. Sabrina’s confidence level rose several notches with Robert’s every stammer. Purr, keep purring. “Oh, do you like it? I felt like a little change.”
“A little. . .” He swallowed hard. “Um, change. Yes. Good.”
Why the hell had she waited so long to go for him? He was nearly panting, and he hadn’t even gotten close enough yet for a whiff of her spicy new perfume.
Sabrina took the finger circling the pearls at her neck and dropped it by slow degrees down her throat, her chest, into the velvety hollow between her breasts. She drew it up and down, once, twice, thrice, and when his eyes glazed she continued the path over her torso, tracing the line of tiny pearl buttons down the front of her blouse to the narrow black-patent belt at her waist.
Robert stood frozen in place, the books forgotten by his feet. Even at twenty paces, Sabrina could see the heavy beat of his pulse at the base of his throat.
The blood in her own veins danced a strange tango, surging with desire, then skittering with nerves. Months of small talk, longing glances, brushing against him while re-shelving books—all the subtle little hints she’d dropped to let him know she was interested flashed through her mind. Her friends said she was too subtle. Well, she couldn’t wait anymore. She wanted him. Badly enough to step way outside her comfort zone. Not just crossing the line from subtle to obvious. Blowing the line apart.
It was now or never.
Swinging her legs to the front of the counter, Sabrina sat up and stretched. One tiny muscle at a time, all the way to the tips of the fingers she twirled, ballerina-like, over her head. She didn’t have to look down to know the hot red satin covering her breasts was pulled taut, highlighting every dip and curve, tracing the painfully tight buds of her nipples, begging to be touched. Caressed. Kissed and suckled.
Would he never stop staring and come to her?
Finally, Robert stooped to gather the books he’d dropped. Sabrina’s confidence might have taken a dive at that moment if it weren’t for the fact that Robert’s eyes never left her. He was reduced to searching for the books by touch, hands scrabbling blindly over the floor. He missed several in the process and tripped over them on the way to the counter with the rest. At least he kept his feet, and his gaze stayed hot on her body. She smothered a laugh. He was just too damn cute for words.
“Why?” Now he averted his eyes, his face in profile. Did he really have to ask? The tips of his ears burned bright red while his eyes burned holes in the counter. Could his heart be racing as fast as hers?
Sabrina wrapped a strand of hair around her finger and canted her head to the side to study the man of her desires. At six-foot-four, he towered over her, even in her heels. Classically handsome, with wavy black hair, laser-blue eyes and a lean, muscular body, she’d felt the physical pull the moment they’d met. His shy smile, framed by killer dimples, made her whole body quiver with animal lust. But it was him, his personality and intelligence, that had taken her from chemical reaction to emotional attraction. His charm, coupled with a sly sense of humor, had her daydreaming about simply spending time with him. She’d waited so long for him to get up the nerve to ask her out. How many months had she slavered over him in her fantasies? Now here she was, acting the femme fatale. Tonight he’d be slavering over her. Literally.
She hoped.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” she said. She ran her finger down the side of his arm, enjoying herself when the muscle there twitched. “Be my Valentine, Robert.”
“Valentines.” He repeated the word like it was foreign, sounding it out syllable by syllable. Couldn’t he see the need pouring through her? The fear of rejection, mixed in equal parts with red-hot desire, was making her shake from head to foot. She’d never taken such a risk in her life.
Then a horrible thought struck. She didn’t think so, but. . . “You don’t have a Valentine already, do you?”
Robert shook his head. He seemed dazed, the books still clutched in his hands. A slight frown gathered between his dark-winged brows. Sabrina wanted to smooth it with her fingers, was dying to touch him again, but this one crucial point had to be settled first.
“Robert?”
“What? No, I—no.”
Relief made her giddy. The humiliation of making such an overt move on another woman’s man would have destroyed her. But now. . .
She knew he was attracted to her. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the tension emanating from his body. She wanted so much more than sex from him, but if physical attraction got the ball rolling, she could be content with that. For now. She refused to think about what would happen to her heart if it ended there. No. She would focus on now, tonight.
The fluorescent lights didn’t do much for setting the mood, but Sabrina wanted to see him in their blue-white glow. She wanted him to see her. She wanted the familiar, musty scent of books, old and new, to meld with the musk of their bodies, intertwined and heaving. She wanted to walk in this library every day for the rest of her life and see the two of them, just there, in her mind’s eye. To feel the passion rising and smile a secret smile every time she sat behind the counter.
When Robert leaned close to her to set his much-reduced pile of books on the counter, black wavy hair falling across his forehead, it was all she could do to keep from leaning over and taking a bite out of him. She angled into him instead, pressing her breasts into his side and reveling in the instant flash of heat that sprang from his body. It was only fair—her own already felt like a volcano about to erupt. She tucked her head into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, breathing deep.
Mmmmmm. . .
God, he smelled fantastic. Like hot, dark nights, cool mystery and carnal sin wrapped together in one delicious package. All man.
“I—I need to close up,” he said, not moving away from her, but making no move toward her, either. Was the man paralyzed?
“Robert,” Sabrina said on a sigh, “don’t you like me at all?”
That got his attention. His head shot up and his eyes, so deep and blue, snapped to hers. Electricity arced between them, the jolt so intense she nearly gasped aloud.
“Don’t I like you?”
He turned fully toward her, his hands grasping the sides of her face. The look in his eyes said he was about to ravish her mouth, and her pulse kicked hard, triumph and need in one heavy beat, but when he finally moved in, it was by slow, torturous degrees. He kept his eyes open on hers, the drowning depths of them sweeping her away as his lush, soft lips finally met hers in a testing kiss.
Slow, achingly slow, and sweet, and soft. Sabrina thought she might die from the sheer beauty of it. He brushed her lips with his, once, twice, three times, each one a hard, low pull in the belly, and all she could think was finally, finally, finally.
“Don’t I like you?” he whispered, and slid his hands into the fullness of her hair. He moved between her splayed thighs and pulled her into his body, her skirt riding higher and higher. She wondered if he realized yet that she was bare underneath, that her naked core was pressed tightly to his, every line of his blazing erection branding her through the fabric of his conservative, good-boy trousers. The sensation sent her spinning, so hot she nearly came.
“Don’t I like you?” he asked again, and dove. His mouth fused to hers, his tongue plunging between her lips to stroke her own, mirroring the feel of him against her most secret place. Heat radiated through her body like molten gold. She took her breaths in panting gasps, her heart galloping in her chest. She wanted his hands on her, and hers on him.
“I’ve wanted you for months.” Robert growled the words into her mouth, sending shivers coursing down her spine. He traced her lips with his tongue, nibbling along their edge before diving inside for another taste.
Sabrina recognized the moment when she lost control of the situation, when he became the aggressor, and gloried in it. He wanted her, and the proof was pressed to her, stoking her fires to flash point. When he tore off his wire-rimmed glasses and tossed them on the floor behind the desk, she couldn’t stop the moan. Hello, Superman.
She slipped her fingers between their bodies and worked the top button of his shirt loose, then the next, and the next, while his hands traveled the length of her back, smoothing her through the satin. He ran his fingers through her hair, fisted his hands at the small of her back, pressing her closer, closer, as though he wanted to absorb her into his body. She reached his belt and pulled the shirt free, pushed it open to splay her hands across his chest, delighting in the strength, the smoothness of his skin, the sheer masculinity.
The plan had been to get Robert a little worked up, enough to finally finagle a date. Maybe even progress to a passionate night together, if she was lucky. But now, under the harsh lights and in full view of the unlocked library doors, Sabrina tossed the plan out the window in favor of oh-God-yes-please-now. Her body ached in all the best places, need driving her beyond her usual inhibitions. She didn’t care if the entire rest of the staff walked in at that moment. They could pull up a seat, grab some popcorn, but this man—he was hers. Now.
Tracing her fingers around his sides to his back, Sabrina pulled him even more tightly to her, nearly crying with need, but instead of sinking into her, Robert pulled back. His eyes, hot and piercing on hers, contrasted exquisitely with his hands, gentle but insistent on her shoulders, making her shiver. He laid her back on the counter.
Bereft of his heat, Sabrina shivered again and reached for him, her eyes glued to his. But Robert captured her hands in one of his and, leaning over her, held them captive above her head on the desk. She moaned in her throat, frustration, desperation making her squirm.
“Robert,” she whimpered. She wanted to feel him!
“Sabrina,” he whispered back, his voice smoky and teasing, and she wanted to force him closer, make him touch her.
But then he kissed her and she forgot everything, even to breathe, as their tongues mated and teased and she went wet and slick, the tension and excitement spiraling out of control.
How she’d dreamed of this. He was so much more than she’d dared to hope.
Robert broke the kiss. His eyes, mere inches from hers, blazed with heat, with desire for her. Pushing up, he stood before her, his eyes following the motion as he traced a path down the front of her blouse with one hand, his other still holding both of hers captive. She shuddered in the wake of his palm, the craving in her nipples so intense she didn’t think she could bear it another moment.
His hand wandered over her torso, stroking up and down and sideways, warming the satin until the fabric itself seemed to scorch her skin, coming ever closer to where she wanted that touch the most. He teased the undersides of her breasts, first one, then the other, then came back to lightly squeeze. She arched, thrusting her nipple into the center of his palm, wanton, commanding, the feeling so powerful she wanted to weep. He let go of her hands, and she reached for him, but he stopped her with his eyes. He was in charge. Only he could touch.
For now.
The restraint required was unimaginable, another form of sweet torture. The desire to touch him, hold him, grew nearly painful as he continued to tease and mold her breasts with his hands. She fisted her hands in her own hair, pulling at the roots to keep from grabbing him and lapping him up where he stood, from throwing him to the floor and mounting him, riding him like a rodeo bull.
“I want—”
“I know,” he said.
“But I need—”
“Shhh. . . ”
Her nipples moved beyond ache to painful tingling, demanding. She could see them rising higher, tighter, harder beneath the red satin, begging, begging, until finally he was there. A feather’s touch first, drawing a moan from deep in her throat, then a glorious, firm stroke. Electric shocks shot through her body and she cried out with relief, and again when he took both nipples in his fingers and squeezed.
And pulled.
And squeezed again.
Robert rubbed his cock between her legs, his erection like steel against her, and rolled her nipples with his fingers. Sabrina mewled mindlessly, thrashing on the desk, her hips pumping, the passion riding her so fiercely she feared she might shatter right there in his hands. When he took one plump, throbbing nipple in his mouth, she screamed, a high, keening shriek as she came, her hands clutching his head, fingers twisting into his thick, dark hair. He chuckled against her but only moved his lips to suckle the other nipple while his fingers continued to torment the first, no time for recovery, and the spirals began again, coiling deep in the pit of her belly.
Robert reached for her hands, still clenched tightly in his hair, and moved them back above her head. Sabrina wanted to curse and shout in protest, but she couldn’t get her breath enough to speak. He held them there firmly for a moment, the message clear: You can touch when I say so. Not before.
“Please, Robert,” she said, pushing the words past lips swollen from his kisses, but Robert only shook his head. His eyes smoldered, but his lips quirked, bringing out his dimples. Taunting her. Clearly enjoying his power over her.
“Not yet, my beauty. I want you mindless. Begging.”
“I am, I am, Robert, please. . .”
“Shhhh. . . No, you’re not there yet.”
Hot kisses rained down her center while his fingers returned to her nipples, lightly twisting, tugging through the satin, bolts of fire zinging between her nipples and her core, her body nothing but sensation. She was writhing, wet, hot, delightfully helpless in his hands.
He traced his tongue from the base of her throat to her navel, circling and sucking, leaving cooling, damp splotches behind on the satin to mark his trail. Deep, growling sounds of pleasure rumbled in his throat and into her, hitting the sensitive spots, triggering a flood of sparking nerve endings all the way through to her spine.
Chills raced the goose bumps rising all over her body as he continued nibbling and biting his way over the ridge of her skirt. She wanted him to pull up her blouse, to dive beneath it to her bare skin, to lick away the beads of moisture she could feel springing all over her torso. He continued his downward path instead, chewing the fabric of her skirt between his teeth, lightly grazing the skin beneath, until he dropped to his knees between her thighs.
Robert hummed in his throat, approval purring through the air, and her sex clenched hard.
Sabrina tried to raise herself, to look at him looking at the very center of her, spread open before him like a pagan offering. Ready. Waiting. But her body refused the call of her muscles, already so hyper-charged she could hardly think.
She’d imagined this night, dreamed of it so many times over the previous months of waiting, but her imagination had failed her. His fingertips alone had taken her past the edge of anything she’d ever known before, and his tongue. . . Oh, God, his tongue. His lips, his teeth.
Him.
On display beneath the library lights, in full view of the unlocked front door, Sabrina rode the wave of female power surging through her system.
Her body quivered with need, pulsing hot, and wet, and oh, so ready, but still Robert sat and stared, his hands tracing slow, sensuous circles over her belly and breasts. She kicked her stilettos to the floor and stroked his arms with her feet, moaning his name, urging him closer.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
Just when she thought she couldn’t bear another moment, he shifted forward. She tensed, anticipating. Breath held, throbbing, dying for the touch of his lips against the source of her passion, but instead he blew a breath against her, and she shuddered in surprise. His hands stroked to the juncture of her thighs, where his fingers caressed and played, up and down the sides of her mound, feather light. Down further, lifting her slightly to stroke her bottom and delve between her cheeks, his pinky finger rubbing that most sensitive circle of flesh, splintering her already shaky control.
He stroked and teased in a torturous dance, coming ever closer, but not yet touching where she wanted him most, until finally, finally, with the lightest of strokes, he brushed against her center and sent her over the edge again. Her screams echoed through the deserted library, shaking dust from the rafters.
Then his mouth was on her, and Sabrina thought she’d combust. Hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses covered every inch of her sex, driving her past reason, past thought. His tongue flicked lightly against the delicate bud at her very core, tearing another scream from the depths of her throat. He stroked her with it, up and down her secret folds, lapping at her like a jungle cat with its first dish of finest cream. Slowly, savoring. Now faster, harder. Driving her crazy.
“Yes, God, Robert. . .”
“Come for me again, Sabrina. Now. I want to feel you, see you shake apart.”
When his tongue delved inside her, tasting, devouring her inside and out, suckling and stroking, her mind simply shattered. Her screams rent the air like sirens and she rocked against him, her movements frantic. She couldn’t stop, wanted him never to stop. The vibrations of her orgasms were shaking her apart, bit by glorious bit, one after another after another. Her whole body trembled with the force of the pleasure skyrocketing through her system, until finally the shocks mellowed to shivers, and then to a heavenly glow, and still he laved her. Tongue, lips, fingers, as if he couldn’t get enough. He rubbed his face deeply into her heat, basking in the scent of her passion.
Limp with pleasure, exhausted, still she craved him, needed him inside her, now more than ever. But Robert had other ideas.
Hands stroking down her thighs, Robert pushed to his feet. He pulled her back to a sitting position and kissed her again, pillaging her mouth. Sabrina could taste herself, smoky-sweet, on his lips, on his tongue. Lightheaded, she sank into him and held on, riding the storm.
All too soon, he disentangled himself from her arms. She looked up at him, confused, her brain passion-hazed, as sated as her pleasure-soaked body. Robert’s eyes, darkened to cobalt and heavy-lidded with desire—desire for her, praise Jesus—met hers with singular intensity. His fingers feathered the side of her face. Grasping her jaw, he pulled her in for one more kiss, then quick as a lightning strike, he grabbed her up, spun her around and tossed her face-forward over the counter.
Breathless with surprise, Sabrina tried to brace herself against the wood. But instead of plunging into her like a wild stallion as she’d expected, his searing-hot hands grazed the sides of her thighs, raising her skirt inch by inch. As short as the skirt was it shouldn’t have taken long to lift it completely, but he drew it out, slowly, carefully, and once again Sabrina’s heart rate soared into overdrive.
“Gorgeous,” he said, making her tremble.
Robert skimmed his hands up her quivering sides and leaned over her, his weight pressing her into the counter. One hand moved her hair across her shoulder so he could nuzzle his face into her neck. A quick bite on her nape startled a laughing shriek from her that quickly turned into a moan when he straightened and drew both hands down her back in one hard stroke, over the curves of her ass and in between. He cupped her, his fingers doing magical things between her legs, then he dropped to his knees again and replaced his fingers with his tongue, continuing the dance.
“I love the taste of you,” he whispered against her, his voice deep, heavy, full of desire, and Sabrina’s pulse shot even higher. “I want to watch you come again. And again and again.”
Sabrina’s voice deserted her. Could she take any more? Her body, already over-sensitized, swamped with pleasure such as she’d never known, quaked.
He spread her cheeks apart with his hands and rubbed a dampened pinky around her delicate and most secret spot of all, then pressed inside. Sabrina panted for air, explosive shocks jolting her entire body to the rhythm he set as he thrust his fingers inside her, front and back, moving them slowly in and out together, then faster and faster, forcing breathless screams through her lips as she came violently, jerking her hips against him in uncontrollable waves of lightning-shot pleasure.
“Robert!” She sobbed his name, overcome, weak-kneed, her mind blanked and stars popping before her passion-glazed eyes. Her muscles gave out completely. If Robert hadn’t been holding on to her, pressing her into the counter, she would simply have slid off it, bonelessly, straight into a heap on the floor.
He slapped her buttocks, and she jerked in surprise. “Hey,” he said, nipping her left cheek and sending another jolt through her system, “don’t you go passing out on me. I’ve waited for this for months. I’m not done with you yet.”
She didn’t think she could take any more and survive, but Robert took the tips of his fingers and scraped tiny circles over her buttocks, just the tips of his nails, sending new waves of tingling pleasure soaring through her body.
“You’ve—you’ve waited?” she gasped. How could they have missed each other’s cues for so long?
“Waited and waited and waited.”
Sabrina started to speak, but Robert ran his tongue down the back of her right thigh and she forgot whatever she’d been about to say in the wake of thrilling shivers racing over her skin.
“Oh, God,” she whimpered, “please, Robert. . .”
“Mmmmm?” He reached the back of her knee, suckling the tender skin there before continuing down her calf to her foot. He massaged the arch with his thumbs, wrapped his lips around her toe and drew it deeply into his mouth. Sabrina had no idea her feet were so erotically charged. She raised up on tiptoe on the other foot, a new round of orgasms building from her toes up. He was killing her, but what a way to go.
“God,” she rasped, her throat raw, “Robert. . . Please. I—I need. . .”
“What?” She could feel the smile in his voice against the base of her foot. “What do you need? Say it, Sabrina.”
“You,” she gasped, “I need you, please, God, inside me, right now.”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” he said, and leapt to his feet.
In one smooth motion, he flipped Sabrina to face him, jerked her against his body with her legs wrapped around his waist and lifted her to him as he plunged himself inside her. She never even heard him drop his trousers to the floor or fumble with the condom, but such details were driven from her mind as they crashed together, bodies heaving, slapping, slick with his sweat and hers, breaths mingled and gasping. She stared into the depths of his eyes and saw her passion reflected back at her, beat for beat.
His cock filled her to bursting, sliding against every sensitized nerve ending with pulsing precision, driving her to peak after peak. She drenched herself against him, coming and coming and coming until at last he met her final orgasm with one of his own, his shouts twining with hers, and their mutual crescendo built until she thought the building would implode around them in fiery sparks.
Robert dropped her bottom back onto the counter and collapsed against her. They held each other there like survivors of a bomb blast, shaking, half-numb with reaction.
Sabrina dropped her head to his shoulder, too weak to lift her head. Her body, gloriously used and abused, continued to shiver. Robert’s arms trembled, his hands braced against the counter. Then his whole body began to rumble, and she realized he was laughing.
Laughing?
She tipped her head back just far enough to see into his eyes, alight now with humor. Had she ever before noticed the tiny golden lights dancing in their centers? He dropped a quick, friendly kiss on her mouth and hugged her into his body.
“What’s so funny?” she mumbled against the fabric of the shirt he was still half-wearing.
“We are,” Robert said. “In all the fantasies I’ve had of you, I never once pictured us here. But I have to say it worked out rather well.”
Sabrina felt the answering grin spreading across her lips. She had to agree. Had he really fantasized about her, while all along she’d been wishing for him just to notice her, to see her as a woman and not just a colleague?
Suddenly, unaccountably, shy, Sabrina pressed her cheek against his chest, listening to the still-racing beat of his heart while she traced tiny patterns against his shirt. Her seduction plan had worked—far better than she’d ever dared to imagine it could, in fact—but now what? Stupid, never to have given a thought to what would happen afterward if she managed to get him to this point.
When she realized the patterns she was tracing on his shirt were tiny, interlocked hearts, she straightened with a gasp.
“Robert, I—” she began, but he cupped her face, oh-so-gently, with his hands, and leaned his forehead against hers.
“I’m so glad you took the reins this way, Sabrina,” he whispered, and lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss of such yearning sweetness it took her breath away.
“You are?” she whispered back.
“Mmmm,” Robert leaned back to look in her eyes. “I didn’t think you were interested in me. At all. You’re always so professional. Friendly, but we work together. And you’re so beautiful, and I’m such a nerd. . .”
She was beautiful? He thought her beautiful? Even before her transformation for tonight? Amazing. Incredible. And he thought himself a book nerd, while she thought he was the hottest thing on two legs.
“Oh, Robert,” Sabrina had to laugh as well. How much time had they wasted, missing each other’s signals so completely? But tonight had made it all worth the wait.
“Hey, I’m a man. Sometimes you have to beat us over the head.”
When he kissed her again, slowly, sweetly, she sank into him gladly, joy suffusing her heart. She’d admired his body from the first, if she were being honest, but she’d soon fallen for his ready smile, his kindness with everyone from the rowdiest preschool children to the most elderly patrons. His quick and questing mind.
And he’d noticed her all along, really seen her. He’d seen past the severe librarian-style hairdo she wore for work, the tailored, conservative clothes, the polite and professional demeanor. He’d fantasized about her, every bit as much as she’d fantasized about him. Sabrina’s heart made the final plunge, tripping into love.
The kiss deepened, emotions tangling with passion, and Sabrina’s pulse hammered in triple time, matching his beat for beat. He hardened against her, and the thrill shot through her again. They clung to each other, savored each other’s kisses, taking pleasure in murmured words of love, in the heavy lust urging their bodies to new heights.
“God, I can’t get enough of you,” he said, rasping the words against her throat, and Sabrina’s heart thrilled.
Robert grappled with a fresh condom, grabbed her up from the desk and wrapped her around his body once again, sinking deeply inside her as he lowered them to the floor. Sabrina gloried in the strength of his legs as she rode him to the ground. He laid back, his hands at her waist, eyes locked on hers, urging her on as she bucked wildly on top of him, her hips pumping as he thrust into her, their rhythms matched perfectly in the oldest dance.
He slowed her driving hips with his hands and bowed up to capture her mouth in another searing kiss while his fingers reached the sides of her blouse and pulled it apart in one rending motion. Pearl buttons flew everywhere, pinging against the tile floor in time to the beat of her heart as Robert’s hands finally, finally went skin-to-skin with her breasts, the scorching heat of his palms branding her, sending her to new heights of pleasure.
He fell back to the floor, and Sabrina felt a protest rise to her lips when his hands dropped away from her sensitized nipples, but before the words could form, his thumb brushed the hard, pulsing beat of passion at her core, his fingers sliding between them, stroking them both where their bodies joined, and she skyrocketed past galaxies, spinning into new orbits. Body, mind, soul. She flew, and flew, and flew, deaf to her own screams as they melded with his, ricocheting through the library.
Sabrina fell forward, all the muscles in her body vaporized, incapable of supporting herself another moment. The air dragged in and out across her throat, scored from her passion-filled screams, in heavy, painful gasps. She’d lost track of the number of her orgasms. She lay across him, completely spent, her arms thrown out to the sides on top of his, her hands nestled into his palms. Her cheek pressed tightly against his sweaty chest and galloping heart.
“My God.” They said it together, the words pushed through two pairs of lips well-chapped from ragged breathing and fiery kisses.
They lay together, shipwrecked on the storm of their passion, the library floor their deserted island.
Finally, after weeks, or maybe moments, Robert lifted his right hand and stroked it slowly down the length of her hair, the soft strands spilling every which way across their bodies, still joined there on the floor.
“Come home with me, Sabrina.”
It took every ounce of energy she had left, but Sabrina managed to push herself onto her elbows to look into his eyes.
“Home?”
He nodded. “It’s Valentine’s Day, after all. We should celebrate.”
Sabrina felt the laugh bubbling up. “Doesn’t this count?” she asked, gesturing to the two of them.
“It’s a pretty good start,” he admitted, “but you deserve more than a tumble on the library floor. And desk,” he added with a chuckle.
“I’m pretty happy right here,” Sabrina said, dropping back to his chest, not wanting to reveal the hope she knew had to be shining out of her eyes. She’d wanted to seduce him, and she’d succeeded spectacularly. She had hoped for even more for a long time. Now, on the cusp of getting everything she’d wanted since first clapping eyes on him all those months ago, she didn’t want to jinx it by appearing too eager. Well, after what they’d just experienced, it was probably too late for that, she thought with a mental laugh. “I don’t think I can move.”
“I’ll carry you.”
Sabrina’s heart tripped in her chest. “Carry me?” Images of white knights danced in her head. Could anything be more romantic?
“I want to make love to you in my bed, Sabrina,” he murmured against her hair. “I want to wake with you there beside me in the morning. Please come home with me.”
Sabrina’s fingertips brushed against one of the pearls he’d torn from her blouse. She rolled it into her palm, the luster soft and radiant in the cool blue lights of the library. She rubbed her cheek against Robert’s chest and whispered, “Yes.”
~The End~