Page 98 of She’s Worth the Risk

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.