37. Nick #2
I give a low growl in her ear, gripping her hips.
I’ve noticed how much she loves when I’m a little rough with her, when I leave my mark on her skin.
There’s no denying I love it too, seeing the physical reminder that she’s mine.
I’ve never been the possessive type, never cared enough for the few women I’ve crossed paths with, but with Zinnia it’s undeniable.
Unstoppable. That need to make sure she knows she’s mine. To make sure everyone knows she’s mine.
And I can’t.
The injustice of it strikes me afresh, and my grip tightens as I grind my erection roughly against her ass.
“Fuck, Nick,” she breathes, leaning into it. “Yes.”
I probably shouldn’t fuck her when I feel like this, angry and bitter.
And I definitely shouldn’t fuck her between the stacks in the NYU library, for Christ’s sake.
But as Cole’s laugh floats our way again, the beast inside me rears up.
The need to claim her right here, only twenty yards away from the guy who wants her.
The guy who represents everything I can never be.
“Okay then, Professor,” Zinnia rasps, quivering as I pin her between the shelves and my stiff, aching cock. “What’s my punishment?”
I feel a sick sort of satisfaction as I push Zinnia’s dress up to find her panties soaked. Cole doesn’t get this side of her, and he never will.
“Your punishment is to watch him while I fuck you,” I grate out. “And remember that you’re mine .”
She whimpers, her hand groping blindly behind her to mold to my erection and stroke. “Yes. Do it.”
Heat streaks through me as she jerks me through my pants, and some part of my brain remembers to glance along the aisle again, checking we’re still alone.
But I’m not sure I could stop if we weren’t.
I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Don’t recognize the intense, burning sensation in my chest every time I have to turn away from her in lectures, or watch Cole laugh openly with her, or make her leave my apartment before dawn.
I don’t recognize the territorial animal inside me, urgently dragging her panties to the back of her knees so I can fuck her behind the stacks.
And I sure as hell don’t recognize all the soft, tender parts that want to use words like forever and always .
The parts that desperately want to take her to my brother’s wedding, to imagine what it might be like if we were the ones up there.
The parts I’m terrified would be all over my face if she could see it right now.
Instead, I focus on the way she squirms restlessly in my arms, the slick, wet slide of her on my palm as I free my cock with my other hand. She holds her dress up for me, and I drag my rigid length through her wetness, letting it coat the tip.
“Fuck,” Zinnia rasps, spasming as I slide my dick between her thighs to rub the swollen head against her clit. “Just punish me already.”
I release a low, dark chuckle. It’s fun having her right where I want her, so impatient and needy. I could get used to this.
“You want your professor’s cock?” I growl. “Say it.”
“I want your cock, Professor.” She shifts her hips, trying to get me inside her. “Please. I need it.”
Fuck.
Gripping the base of my length, I change the angle to drive myself into her tight heat. Pleasure surges down my limbs, and I bury my face in her hair. When Zinnia releases an alarmingly loud moan, I cover her mouth with my hand.
“Quiet, honey,” I hiss into her ear. “Don’t make a sound while I fuck you.”
Her breath rushes out hot against my hand, and as I feel her clench around my shaft, I realize how much she likes this.
She likes me fucking her roughly in the stacks because I’ve lost all sense of control.
There’s no denying I like it too. I feel reckless and wild, terrified and determined all at once.
I feel a thousand things, more than I’ve felt in decades, and it’s exhilarating.
It’s fucking everything.
“You love this, don’t you?” I growl, pumping into her. “You love seeing me lose control.”
She nods breathlessly against my hand, hips rocking to meet my frantic thrusts. Removing my hand from her mouth, I tilt her face to view Cole through the stacks.
“Look at him,” I command, plunging deep inside her. “He has no idea what you’re doing right now.”
“He’s an idiot,” Zinnia mutters, taking every punishing thrust.
Hard to argue with that.
“What would he think about you getting railed by the professor like this? Taking my cock in the library where anyone could see you?”
She grips the shelves, knuckles white as she stifles a groan. “I don’t care what he thinks,” she rasps. “I only care what you think.”
“Is that right?”
She nods, reaching up to wrap her hand around the back of my neck, pressing my face into the smooth skin of her shoulder. I push the strap of her dress aside and bite down, leaving a mark on her skin. She trembles against me, swallowing another moan.
God, this woman. The way she takes everything I give her. The way she always wants more.
“You care that I think about you every waking moment?” I ask, voice shaky.
“Yes,” she breathes, arching into me.
“That no matter how much I see you, it’s never enough?”
“Yes.” Her voice comes out so broken, so breathless, that heat rips through me. I speed up, fucking her deeper, harder. Needing to feel her come.
“That your pussy is so fucking perfect for my cock?” I rasp, fingers fumbling for her clit, stroking roughly. “That every night you’re not in my bed, I fuck my fist and think about you?”
“Fuck, Nick, oh my God.” Her breath comes shuddering out as my thrusts grow frenzied and urgent.
“This pussy is mine, Zinnia. Understand?” I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. All I know is that desperate, possessive urge to claim her. “ Mine .”
“Yes,” she breathes, and my balls tighten as she clenches me like a vise, quivering. “Yours.”
“That’s it, honey.” I bite her again, driving myself deep. “Come on your professor’s cock.”
This time, I’m ready. I wrap a hand around her mouth just as she cries out, muffling the sound. She spasms against me, and I press her to the stacks as my own release comes rushing down my spine, obliterating all thought.
My heart gallops as I come back to my senses and glance around us, checking we’re still alone. There’s not a soul in sight, and with a breath of relief, I reluctantly step away from Zinnia. Pushing my glasses back onto my nose, I search my pockets for something to clean the mess, but they’re empty.
“Shit,” I curse, as she turns back to me, adjusting her dress. “I don’t have a tissue.”
A slow, sinful grin slides onto her lips. “Then I’ll have to walk around like this,” she says, squeezing her thighs together.
I frown. “Zinnia…”
“I like it,” she purrs, leaning close to whisper, “I like the idea of sitting in your class with your cum dripping out of me.”
My dick jumps excitedly, as if my balls haven’t just been drained, and I lean in to take her mouth in a scorching kiss.
“You are such a dirty girl.”
She smirks. “And you love it.”
I sigh, dropping my forehead to hers. She’s right. I love it.
And it’s not the only thing I love.
There’s a sound nearby, and we freeze, glancing at one another. Zinnia rises onto her toes, stealing one last quick kiss.
“See you in class, Professor,” she whispers, before grabbing her bag and slipping away.
My heart thuds as I watch her leave. Try as I might, I can’t stop thinking about that invitation, sitting on my kitchen counter.