Page 86 of Devious Knight

I groan into the smooth skin of her clean-shaven mound and feast on her like she’s the very last meal I’ll ever eat in this life.

I lick, suck, tug at her clit, and soak up the melodious hums coming from her body.

My fucking dick is straining so badly against my pants, any friction is going to make me blow my load.

I drive her back to the edge of orgasm and she comes again. This time Isabelle grabs my shoulders and digs her nails into my skin. If I weren't wearing clothes she’d cut me, but I like this pain.

It’s the sort that only comes with pleasure attached to it.

She rubs her pussy against my face and I’m so engrossed in taking more from her that I barely, barely hear the faint, faraway sound of footsteps.

But she hears it and tenses up.

“Kade, someone's coming.” The panic in her voice makes me stop.

It’s only then that I realize the footsteps are neither faint or far away. Whoever is coming is walking up the steps that will lead them right to us.

In a blind panic, Isabelle jumps off the table and grabs her top from the floor. She tugs it back on just in time before Ms. Minchin walks around the corner and sees us.

Ms. Minchin is an elderly lady with a permanent frown, thick librarian glasses, who she looks and dresses like she belongs in a Dr. Seuss book.

“Good morning, Ms. Minchin.” Isabelle puts on her best chirpy voice but she sounds guilty as hell.

My guess is that Ms. Minchin heard exactly what we were up to and came to check it out.

“This is a public library,” she replies in her Miss Marple English accent. She looks down her nose, especially at me and frowns at Isabelle. “This is not a brothel or a playhouse, or whatever it is you young people call it these days.”

The way she says you young people makes me think she never allowed herself to be young and was probably always confined to a library.

“I’m… so sorry.” Isabelle’s face is almost as red as the crimson-carpeted floors. “I was researching for my project.”

“It didn’t sound that way, dear. Also, your top is inside out and your bra is on the floor.”

Isabelle looks like she might wither away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Get a room next time.”

“Okay, Ms. Minchin,” I reply, speaking for the first time since she busted us. Of course, my simple response makes it worse. Even though I wasn’t being rude, my tone always sounds like I am.

With her head held high, she looks me up and down like I’m a menace to society, then turns on her heels and marches away.

Isabelle grabs her bra from the floor and rushes back to the table with her bag.

I follow her and grab her arm.

She tries to break free but I tighten my grip.

“You,” she snarls.

“What me?”

“What do you mean, what? All you do is make me crazy and get me in trouble. You are hell-bent on ruining my life. You wrecked my chances of getting into Cambridge and now you’re going to get me kicked out of here, too. Oh my God, I hate you.”

I hate when she says that. And I won’t remind her that she doesn’t hate me. Instead I take pleasure in showing her, by yanking her back to my chest and kissing her.

She almost gives in. Almost. Until she does what she should have done in the first place and pushes me away. I still keep my grip on her arm.

“Let me go.”

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