12
It was useless. I couldn’t fight him off, and I didn’t want to.
I surrendered and allowed him to take me on a journey of pure lust. Did I trust him?
Nope. Did I trust that he had my interests at heart?
Definitely not. But I didn’t care because I just wanted to escape the hell and horror that was playing out inside my head.
We already made a scene in front of the detective, and let’s not forget my Finance lecturer, so I had nothing left to lose, nothing to hide, and no point pretending that all was okay when it wasn’t.
I was numb and lost in this jungle of shit, and I didn’t care what happened to me.
My only hope was the will my father left that would no doubt leave me all his assets and money, while she, Leslie, got nothing. Then I’ll never see her again.
“Stay with me,” Ezrah demanded as he kissed me. “I can feel you growing distant.”
“We’re in the library,” I reminded him because he seemed oblivious to our surroundings, whereas I was too aware of movements and sounds.
After what happened in class, where I had the stupid panic attack, I didn’t care if people assumed we were an item, but the library was not the right place to do this sort of stuff.
He broke the kiss and looked around the space, then grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my seat, placing my ass on the table.
He then took my face in his big, warm hands and kissed me again.
This time, he had me hook, line, and sinker.
My mind was blown, and everything that was bothering me faded away with each touch.
I sensed students wandering about, whispers, and sniggers.
We were in a corner fenced in by bookshelves, but it wasn’t private, and Ezrah didn't care.
He pulled my jeans and panties down in one movement as I gaped in horror.
We were not alone in there. I could see a student walking on the other side of the bookshelf, then innocently turn around the corner and freeze when his eyes latched onto me sitting on the table with Ezrah between my legs.
It was like when you stumble across a terrible accident where you know you should look away, but you can’t.
It was the same with the student. With his eyes wide in horror, he shuffled his feet and backed away, embarrassed, but curious, and then I noticed him lingering on the other side of the bookshelf, peering through the spaces.
“Not here,” I begged Ezrah, digging my fingers into his hard, muscular arms. “Please, not here.”
His jaw pulsated as he stalled and clenched, annoyed that he had to stop, then scrutinized our surroundings before growling, “Too fucking bad,” and plunged his full length into me.
“Don’t forget I’m your enemy,” I hissed in his ear as I gasped at his fullness and small pinch against my vaginal walls before I wriggled to ease my discomfort.
“I haven't forgotten,” he snarled, as he pulled his length out halfway before forcing it back in hard, making me cry out, then slapping a hand over my mouth in embarrassment and to suppress more noises.
I could still see the figure of the student on the other side of the bookshelf, then lowered my head to catch his eyes, refusing to look away.
He was a stranger to me, but I was enjoying his shy gaze as Ezrah pulled out almost all the way this time and plunged back into me, making my body and the table jolt.
I was consumed by the hulking body drilling into me in a public place and was surprised by how much I liked this.
Ezrah’s strokes were deliberately slow and impactful, making me grunt and sigh with every movement.
My fingers combed through his thick, dark blond hair as his lips found the curve of my neck and nibbled and licked, and I tipped my head back momentarily to enjoy his wet tongue, under the gaze of the watching student.
Exhilaration coiled through me, my body sinking deeper into the table as I seeped juice with every solid thrust. But the mood shattered abruptly.
The student was gone, replaced by a pair of narrowed, dark eyes drilling into my skull.
Unlike the student’s curious gaze, this man’s stare was sheer scorn, shooting iron nails of contempt from behind the books.
Yet, he didn’t intervene, didn't tell us to get a room—he just stayed anchored, his penetrating gaze turning into a menacing, immovable presence.
Ezrah increased his pace as I looked away from the stranger’s glare, yet I could feel him as the man between my legs forced me back, so I was forced to place my hands on the table, thigh muscles hard against his torso.
Hands and mouth everywhere, overwhelming my body, and the table creaked under my body, turning into rubber.
My thighs trembled, toes numb, the impending orgasm running up and down my legs.
His balls slapping against my skin, his hips rotating, big hands gripping my supple thighs, and I had forgotten for a moment of the penetrating stare from behind the bookshelf.
I lifted my eyes to find him over Ezrah’s shoulder, and flinched at the devouring stare from under dark eyelashes. With our gaze fixed on one another, I taunted him by biting my bottom lip, flaring my nostrils to flirt.
Then I slowly pulled my sweater up to reveal my lace, white bra, pulled down the cup to reveal my breast, and began to play with my erect pink nipple with my fingers.
I refused to allow my gaze to break, and as my body prickled all over from the impending orgasm, I clenched my thigh tighter around Ezrah, but kept staring at the stranger behind the bookshelf.
I liked his stare. I liked to be watched by that particular gaze, and those particular eyes seemed ominous, yet titillating.
I kept playing with the spy, like he was my little toy, taunting and teasing, and he responded by remaining my captivated audience.
As Ezrah’s thrusts grew faster, the orgasm struck me hard, and my mouth parted, my body contracted around Ezrah’s cock, clenching down as Ezrah grunted, pushing harder.
While my watcher’s eyes grew hungrier, unflinching.
I expected him to move from his hideout and join in, but no, he stayed put until I was done.
Then he vanished.
I stretched my neck searching for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
I tucked my breast away as Ezrah buried his face into the curve of my neck in recovery mode, so I took the opportunity to bite his earlobe and chomped down while my fingernails scratched the back of his neck.
“I fucking hate you, Warwick,” I snarled in his ear.
“You drugged and kidnapped me, so I will forever hate you.”
As he lifted his head to look at me, a smirk stretched across his handsome face, unaffected by my rage and the pain I was trying to inflict on him. “I’ll make you my slave,” he snarled.
“I’ll kill you first,” I hissed, wrenching myself out of his grip, but he refused to let go, smiling, riveted in my anger.
“You and whose army?” he joked, cocking his eyebrows, then a shadow passed behind those eyes. “Is that what you’ve been up to with the detective and the Dirty ol’ Dean? Plotting to take us down, huh?”
“No,” I snarled, tugging my arm so he’d loosen his grip. “I’m quite capable of working on my own. Maybe I’ll make a list and knock you down one at a time.”
His big hands finally let me go, and I quickly tidy my clothes, glance around, and walk out from behind the bookshelf to see if the man who was watching me is nearby, but everything is clear, except for a group of students nearby who look at me with smirks on their faces.
It’s obvious they know what we were doing, and they have every right to be appalled by it.
In fact, if I were in their place, I’d probably snitch to the librarian to have me banned.
“Who are you looking for?” Ezrah asked as I stepped back over to the table and sat down, gasping when I could still feel him between my legs.
“No one, I mean…” I exhaled to correct myself, “to see if anyone had been spying.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, “Well, we are in a public place where anyone can walk in, so…let them look. I don’t care.”
I placed my elbows on the table, picked up my pen, and twirled it in my fingers. “You know I’ll have to go back for my father’s funeral,” I told him.
“Yeah, we’ve thought about that,” he said, taking the seat beside me and peering at the notes on my phone from our Finance class. “We’ll let you go-
“Oh, geewizz, thanks,” I hissed sarcastically, “How kind of you to allow me to go to my father’s funeral.” I tossed my pen down onto the table. “I wasn’t asking if I could go. I was telling you that I will be going and I won’t let you stop me.”
Again, my anger washed over the top of his head as a pang of jealousy curled around my stomach, wishing I were more like him, where nothing affected me.
I walked this earth as a bundle of rage, ready to be tipped over the edge, whereas he walked this earth playing it cool, nothing to worry about, everything will solve itself.
Annoying. Except I did discover the one thing that gets to him is me associating with other men.
On the surface, it seemed he was concerned I was plotting and scheming against him, but I wondered if he was jealous of me becoming romantically involved with someone.
I could use this weakness against him and drive him completely mad.
“One or two of us will be going with you,” he informed me.
“What? I don’t think so,” I argued.
He grunted, amused, “You have no choice, sweetheart.” I was to mouth off that I’d sneak away without them knowing, but the damn train schedule dictated my escape.
“And don’t think about going without us,” he added as if he knew what I was thinking.
“I don’t want you there,” I spat, moving my chair away to lengthen the space between us.
“No, you might not want us there, but you’ll probably need us there,” he said firmly.
“How so?” I asked in confusion. “I'm pretty independent.”
Another smirk stretched across his dial as he leaned in, “You’ll need protection because of who will be at your father’s funeral.”
I shook my head. “No, we already have plenty of security. That’s already covered.”
He grunted as if there was a little secret he was reluctant to share. “You need protection from those on the inside, not from the outside.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, “Like…Leslie, my stepmother.”
He nodded his dark blond head.
“What do you know?” I pointed my finger at his face. “Is there something you know that I don’t?”
“Do you know who her nephews are?” he said, taking a snapshot of the notes from our Finance class, then enhanced the size so he could read them easily, while my head was spinning.
“No, who?” I snapped at him, in no mood to play games.
“I’ll give you a clue…” he hesitated to increase the intensity and play on my patience, then chewed the inside of his cheek before adding, “One of the nephews asked you out on a date.”
My head snapped up, then I turned to face Ezrah, who licked his bottom lip, “James?”
“Yeah, James and Declan York are your stepmother's nephews,” he filled me in.
“Bullshit,” I laughed, “Surely, James would’ve told me.”
Ezrah made a face, “Surely he would’ve told you…” he mocked me a little, “Unless they were trying to fuck you over.”
The missing pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place, “I always knew he wasn’t truly interested in me, like there was an ulterior motive, and I thought at first, he was trying to avenge you guys.”
“Could be two birds with one stone,” he said, placing his phone into his bag and standing up to leave, “I gotta talk to someone about the meeting with the detective, so I’ll see you later.”
“Oh?” I weird pull on my heart took me by surprise as I didn’t want him to leave at this moment, when I was vulnerable and trying to digest what he just told me. But then I internally cursed myself for being so stupid. “See you, bye.”
I heard his footsteps walking away, but my mind was trapped, fixated on the Yorks, my stepmother, and the harrowing details of my father’s death.
My head spun, forcing me to bury my face in my hands—bereaved, hollow, yet terrifyingly angry.
Then I heard footsteps returning, the long strides instantly familiar.
I looked up to find Ezrah gazing down at my shattered face.
His eyes softened, a rare hint of sympathy appearing as his large knuckles brushed gently against my burning cheek.
“We’ll take care of you,” he faltered, before quickly correcting himself, “I mean… we won’t let them touch you at the funeral.
” I nodded, paralyzed by a feeling of utter hopelessness.
His hand cupped my chin, lifting my gaze to his, and he leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips that felt entirely different than before.