Page 7 of Wreck Me
She giggled at my admission, but it wasn’t the sound I wanted to hear from her, so I quickly transformed her giggle into a loud breathy moan, drifting my fingers over to her clit. I rubbed it in precise circles, applying a moderate pressure as I did. She whimpered beneath my touch, and I drew my free hand to clamp down over her mouth, stifling her noises.
“You’re in a library, Isla,” I chastised, rocking my hips into her slowly. My thrusts were deliberate, taking my time to pull out almost fully before gliding back in. “You wouldn’t want to disturb others in the building, would you?”
She shook her head no from beneath the hold I had on her mouth.
The table began to move beneath us as I slammed into her, increasing my pace while I continued to rub her clit. Her body felt in sync with mine—I could practically feel her orgasm building, getting closer to the point of shattering beneath me.
I wanted nothing more than to see the look in her eyes when she came all over my cock.
Still aware of our surroundings, I slowed my pace to dull the slapping of our skin, hearing a pair of voices draw near. Isla heard them too and her eyes widened, a hint of fear flashing behind them.
Leaning closer to her ear, I whispered, “Shh, I’ve got you.”
The change in angle pushed me deeper, hitting the sweet spot deep inside her, drawing out an indescribable sound from her. It was something between a moan and a squeal, and my new favorite sound. Rolling my hips into her, my cock stroked her while my hand still covered her mouth, hiding her sounds. I could feel her hot breath panting into the palm of my hand.
The idea of being caught gave me a mix of fear and exhilaration, and while I hoped they’d fuck off to where they came from, I was slightly curious to find out what would happen if they came a little closer.
Applying a little more pressure to Isla’s clit, she came without warning, trembling beneath me as her juices drenched my cock, coating me in her desire. Watching her writhe beneath me, fighting against the hold on her mouth that kept her quiet because she wanted to be loud, was enough to bring me to ruin right behind her.
Grunting through my release, I moved my hand to grip the back of her neck, holding it tightly as I filled the condom. A wicked, fleeting wish that I was bare so I filled her instead, infiltrated my thoughts.
As we both came down post-release, she lay beneath me, her chest rising and falling, catching her breath with a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.
“You look fully satiated now,” I mused, pulling the condom from my dick that was still half-mast, simply from the sight of her. Tucking myself back into my pants, I tossed the condom into the trash can nearby before grabbing her hand and tugging her upright. My fingers slipped into the belt loops of her jeans and I tugged them back up her legs and over the curve of her ass.
“Satisfied yes, satiated no. We might need to do it a few more times before I’m satiated.”
Slipping the button through the hole in her jeans, I looked down at her with what I hoped was a serious expression. “There won’t be any more times, Isla. That was a one time thing. Like I said, I won’t be the man who fucks up your life.”
“I already said I didn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter. You deserve better than what I can give you. You deserve better than a man like me.”
“What does that even mean? A man like you?” she questioned, taking a step closer, although we were only inches apart.
I ran a hand down my face, suppressing a groan when I smelled her scent on my fingers. My mind was screaming at me to get the fuck out of the situation, while my dick was straining against my pants again, begging for me to spin her around and bend her over this table for round two. “Just trust me, Starlight. I’m not the man for you.”
My fingers twitched by my sides, dying to reach out and tuck the deep chocolate lock of hair that’d fallen over the side of her face behind her ear so I could get a look at her stormy, gray-blue eyes one last time. Walking away after fucking her was a dick move, and I was fully aware of the consequences of my actions, but I had no other option. She’d either hate me now for being an asshole or she’d hate me later for ruining her life.
I’d rather be remembered as the guy she had sex with in a library than the one that cost her everything. Because that’s what I’d end up being to her, the guy who ultimately screwed everything up.
Just as the people who’d been walking near us came into view, I snatched my old-ass backpack off the table next to her and hightailed it out of there, knowing I’d never be able to show my face in this damn library again.
CHAPTERFIVE
In life there are things that suck, things that hurt, and things that cut you deep into your core. Unforgivable, inconceivable, soul-shattering things that hurt you so badly, you’re not even entirely sure you’ll ever fully recover.
I’d had boyfriends growing up, and my share of heartbreak. I’d experienced one-night stands and had the walk of shame once or twice. Being ghosted was a normal thing these days, and I had done the ghosting too. I knew it sucked. I’d felt the frustration.
What I hadn't yet experienced with dating, though, was handing my heart to someone I literally knew nothing about and having it handed back, tattered and bruised after sharing something so spontaneous and intimate. Until now.
I hadn’t purposely given it to him—it wasn’t as if I had put it on a plate with a neon sign over it that read ‘you can break this’—but somehow, that’s exactly what happened.
Like a desperate little girl, I spent the days that followed camped out at a table in the front of the library, hoping he’d walk back in, apologize for stomping on my heart, and beg for a do-over. I practically spent from open to close inside of those four walls, skipping my classes and doing busy work on my computer.
I created a resume,a freaking resume, despite having never worked a day in my life. It was the saddest resume ever, but creating it made me realize maybe I should get a job. I started looking around online and applying to places to work part-time, unsure of how I would even swing it with a full load of classes, but I had decided it was time to bulk up my nonexistent work experience.
Just when I had convinced myself Caleb would never come back to the library, instinct told me I was being watched. A spine-tingling sensation radiated down my spine and caused me to look around, searching for the source of the inkling. I made eye contact with a few library patrons, but none of them gave me an ah-ha feeling. None of them was the person who had me on high alert.
