AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her respirations had quickened and turned shallow. They thinned into slices that I could have plucked like petals.
Briar was earnest, genuine. Despite her withdrawal from others, this woman meant what she said and didn’t mince words. And she wasn’t the type to procrastinate. My thorn checked her thoughts briskly, sifted deeply through her feelings, and made her choices willfully. She scarcely delayed her decisions, and once she had her mind fixed, she acted.
Hence, one of the countless strengths I admired about her.
Another thing? The idiots of this court called Briar of Autumn uptight, starchy, and austere—terms I had capsized against the people who’d dared utter a critical word about her. I had shut down those judgements swiftly and tactfully. Regardless of society’s ignorance, this woman could outshine this court any day with her intensity of emotions. The Royal widely deemed as genteel, squeamish, and reserved was in truth ardent and genuine, with a respect for her principles as well as her body.
But once acknowledged, Briar didn’t cower from her desires. Nay, she claimed them. This thorn was scrupulous but passionate. More so than anyone I’d ever met.
That she allowed me to see this, feel this, hear this. ’Twas an honor that oftentimes humbled me as much as it excited me.
It took Briar only several moments to decide. Those mercury irises glinted with a mixture of fervor and heedfulness. She glanced sideways, monitoring the activity beyond the bookstacks. But no one ever came to this section, which is why I’d chosen it.
I balanced my finger under her chin and steered her back to me. “No one shall see or hear us,” I promised.
Briar prefaced, “We won’t disrespect the library.”
Her bookish sanctimony won me over. My lips crooked. “I couldn’t agree more. On the contrary, we shall pay worship to it.”
I sauntered closer, staking my arms on either side of her. Not to cage her in, but to shield her on the rare chance someone did happen upon us. My body would conceal that fiery hair.
The panels of my jacket rustled against the clasps of hers. She rested her palms on my hips and burrowed her fingers in, the action loaded with need and trust.
My breath met hers. “Allow me to explain what I would do to you if this library were vacant. Whilst I fill your head with ideas, you’re going to react whichever way your body wants. Let’s see what happens, shall we?”
The books behind her jostled as she nodded. “Leave nothing out.”
The request hauled my cock upright. “It’s dark in here,” I began. “So dark you can barely read the titles on the book spines. You’re not supposed to be in this sanctuary at night, but you’ve broken in, eager to have these tomes at your disposal, like they belong only to you. But as you wander through the stacks, running your fingers over the bindings, you feel a presence behind you.”
Briar closed her eyes and curled into the shelves, listening to me narrate.
“He’s there,” I whispered, my words slithering up her ear. “Indeed, he’s been waiting for you. The jester knew you’d come, and you knew he might be there, so you forgive him for the presumption. Thus, you make a game out of it. You shift between the rows whilst he trails behind, stalking you into the alcoves. And you wonder what shall happen if he catches you … what he’ll do.”
Briar’s teeth pinched her lower lip. One set of fingers abandoned my waist and glided over the spines behind her.
“You hear muffled footfalls, feel his weight. No matter where you turn, the signs never abate,” I rhymed, because why not? “Until at last, you round a corner and stumble into a dead end, where the shelves loom, so tall they disappear into the rafters. Your finger reaches out to trace a gold-leaf title. And there, he finds you.”
The other hand released my waist and draped across her stomach before sinking to her abdomen. Then it descended lower.
I tilted my head, speaking even harsher against her profile. “One arm snakes around you from behind. The other slides from your ass to the back of your thigh, which he raises off the ground.”
A private sigh left Briar’s mouth. She gripped one of the books whilst the other hand groped her skirt, lifting the hem to the apex of her body.
I mumbled, “With his arm bracing your leg, the jester plants your foot on one of the shelves, the toe of your boot nudging the titles. Like this, you feel a current of air stir under your skirt and dip into the cut of your undergarments. Then it strokes your crease like a tongue.”
My eyes sank from her face to the groomed hand vanishing between her legs and—wicked hell—pivoting upward. The sight broadened my erection. I bent my fingers, nailing them into the bookcase to keep myself anchored.
The words charged at her. “The jester’s own fingers follow the current and dive into the slit covering your pussy, which has become so very wet.”
Briar yielded to a soft moan, which hit my lips. How I would like to bite that sound.
Instead, my eyes clung to the vision of her legs shuffling wider for access. One heel propped onto a lower shelf to splay her further. This bunched the skirt higher, revealing her hand as it jutted languidly between the plush folds of her pussy. She would be sleek, pliable, her walls consuming the delicate pump of her fingers.
Seasons help me. The image spurred my mouth, the descriptions rolling off my tongue in sharp pants. “You’re pressed between the books and your lover’s chest. With his arm securing you, his fingers nudge through your cunt and fill you to the brink. They start thrusting, slowly and so far into you, all the way out and then back in.”
Briar’s exhalations diced through the alcove. She arched into the books, and her hand swiveled, her fingers mimicking the fantasy. I caught sight of those glistening digits entering and retreating from the rift, sifting between her folds, pitching into the sweet oval that tightened around her.
As I spoke, my teeth ached, as did my cock. “He probes your pussy, fucking you gently with his hands, striking your cunt to the knuckles.”
