5. Rowan #2
“I came to you.” I keep my mouth close to his. “I want that clear.”
“I know.” He gives me enough room to move away if I want it.
“You don’t get to act noble now.”
“I’m not noble.” Erik’s mouth brushes mine again.
“Good.” I catch the front of his shirt and pull. Two buttons give, with one skittering across the desktop. “That would’ve been disappointing.”
He laughs against my mouth, brief and rough. I push the torn shirt aside and kiss the exposed skin near his shoulder. His control slips enough that his next kiss is harder.
Erik moves the papers out of reach before lifting me onto the desk. One arm stays beside me while his other hand remains at my waist.
“Rowan.” He stops before going farther. “I need an answer.”
“I know where I am.”
“That isn’t what I asked.” Erik leaves enough distance between us that I have to close it myself. “I need to know you still want this after I opened the gate.”
Aaron is dead. My father’s phone is ten feet away. A car waited outside because Erik ordered one there, then stayed out of my path.
“I want this.” I pull him closer. “I don’t want to discuss my judgment.”
His mouth curves against mine. “Your judgment has had an interesting night.”
“Then we agree on something.”
I kiss him before he can say anything else. I get his belt open with more intent than grace. He pushes my jacket from my shoulders, then stops at the hem of my shirt until I lift my arms.
He kisses my throat and moves lower. When he reaches my breast, he takes my nipple between his lips and sucks hard enough that my back arches off the desk. I grip his hair while he moves to the other side, and the scrape of his teeth makes me pull him closer.
Erik drops to his knees between mine. He pushes my skirt higher, hooks his fingers into my underwear, and pulls them down. The first stroke of his tongue against my clit makes me grip the edge of the desk.
He’s thorough. He licks me in slow passes, then circles the spot that makes my thighs shake.
When he slides two fingers inside me and curls them forward, I bite my wrist because Makari is somewhere outside this library, which means I retain enough judgment to care about volume. “Erik.” I fail to say his name quietly.
He looks up long enough to check my face, then lowers his mouth again. His tongue circles my clit while his fingers keep the same steady rhythm inside me. The orgasm hits hard enough that I arch off the desk and clamp my thighs around him.
He rises between my knees. His shirt hangs open, and his hair finally looks as if somebody has touched it.
“You look less official.” I catch one side of his shirt and pull him closer.
“You look pleased with yourself.”
I smile. “I’m evaluating the evidence.”
Erik kisses me before I can make that worse. I taste myself pussy on his lips and pull him closer instead of caring.
A practical question shouldn’t embarrass me after everything else we’ve done tonight, but contraception almost manages it. Erik stops before anything goes farther. “Protection?”
“I’m on the pill.”
He accepts the answer without turning it into another argument.
I reach between us and close my hand around his cock. He’s hard enough that the first stroke makes him press his forehead against mine. I guide him to my entrance, and he pushes inside me in one long thrust that fills me completely.
I wrap my legs around him and stop thinking about statutes, professional judgment, or how any of this will look in daylight.
He isn’t gentle, and I don’t ask him to be.
The desk presses into the backs of my thighs while Erik keeps one hand at my hip and drives into me hard enough that the folder behind me slides toward the edge.
I pull him closer whenever he tries to give me more room.
The anger burns off first, leaving heat underneath it that I refuse to examine tonight.
“Harder.” I get the word out against his shoulder.
Erik gives me what I ask for, and I come again with his hand over my mouth because the library door isn’t soundproof. My pussy clenches around his cock, and seconds later, the last of his control gives. He buries himself deep and comes with a groan muffled against my neck.
Neither of us says anything sweet afterward. We hold each other for a second before separating.
I find the payment-chain page that slid beneath the desk before I find my bra. Erik watches me smooth it on the table while I retrieve the rest of my clothes. “Don’t.” I pull my shirt over my head.
He crouches near the desk leg and retrieves the missing button. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
Erik places the button beside the folder. “That would be speculation.”
I give him the look that deserves while fastening my shirt.
Makari knocks after we’re dressed. He waits for Erik to answer before opening the door far enough to hand him a small black case. “The car is still outside.”
Erik looks at me instead of making the decision himself.
“The driver can leave.” I zip my bag and put it beneath the chair.
Makari nods and closes the door again.
Erik opens the black case on the table. A slim emergency token sits inside. “This connects to a protection-detail alert. If you activate it, Makari’s team receives your location, with an encrypted channel opening at the same time.”
“That sounds like custody with software.” I pick up my phone before Erik can touch it again.
“It has no location access until you trigger the alert.”
“I’m reading every permission.”
“I expected you to.” Erik steps back while I unlock the phone myself.
I enter the code, read each permission request, and reject one asking for unnecessary background access.
Erik checks the screen only after I angle it toward him. “That one isn’t required.”
“Good.” I disable it, finish the setup, then use the manual test function. Makari’s acknowledgment appears less than five seconds later. I lock the phone. “If this becomes a leash, I remove it.”
He doesn’t argue. “It works only when you choose to use it.”
“That’s the correct answer.”
The house stays guarded while Erik and Makari check the copy log.
They seal my father’s physical phone in an evidence bag and keep it where I can see it.
Erik gives me a clean shirt from a cabinet not worth questioning tonight, and I take the leather chair near the cold fireplace while the encrypted copy continues running.
At 4:40 in the morning, my phone lights up with a news alert.
A body was recovered at a private residence in Ashford overnight.
State police haven’t released the deceased man’s name pending notification of family.
The second paragraph identifies the property owner as Erik Danilov, Blackthorne University’s dean of institutional affairs and a major foundation donor.
My name is nowhere in the story.
I read the alert twice with Erik behind the chair and Makari watching the windows. On the third pass, I know the omission is deliberate. It might be mercy, or it might be another way of controlling the field. I can’t decide which possibility bothers me more.