Taming the Innocent Librarian:4
1543 Words
◆◆◆ Chapter 4 ◆◆◆
~ Kris Hunter ~
I knew this is the most f****d up thing to do.
I had never been so blunt about what I wanted in my entire life, but Niklaus has this charm… this pull that made me unable to control my desires to f**k him.
The private room at the club felt smaller the moment the door clicked shut behind us.
The bass from the main floor was muffled now, replaced by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the thud of my own heartbeat in my ears.
Niklaus stood there, already shrugging off his shirt with slow, deliberate movements. The fabric slid down his arms and pooled on the floor. My breath caught. God, his body was unreal—broad shoulders, carved chest, abs that looked like they were sculpted with a chisel, that deep V dipping into his trousers. I had never seen a man like this up close, never touched one. My palms were suddenly clammy.
He watched me, dark eyes intense but patient. “Do to me what you want, Kris.”
My stomach flipped. He was giving me control. All of it.
I stepped forward before I could overthink it. My hands trembled as they landed on his chest — warm skin, hard muscle. I traced the lines slowly, learning the feel of him, the way his n*****s tightened under my fingertips. He didn’t move or rush me.
He just let me explore.
“You’re incredible,” I whispered, almost to myself.
His mouth curved with just a hint of a smile.
I rose on my toes and kissed him. It was messy at first, eager, my lips pressing too hard because I wanted everything at once.
He tasted like whiskey and heat. His tongue met mine, gentle but deep, letting me set the rhythm. I threaded my fingers into his hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned low in his throat. The sound vibrated through me, settling hot and liquid between my legs.
I pulled back, breathing hard. “Sit on the bed.”
He sat immediately, backing up until he dropped onto the edge, legs spread wide. Power surged through me. He was letting me lead.
My fingers went to his belt, fumbling the buckle because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Zipper down. Trousers and briefs tugged lower.
His c**k sprang free — thick, long, veined, the head already slick with precum. I stared, mouth dry. He was huge. Beautiful in a raw, intimidating way.
“Oh God,” I murmured. “You’re… big.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “All yours for the night.”
I wrapped my hand around the base—hot, velvet-hard skin over steel.
I stroked up slowly, thumb circling the tip, spreading the wetness. He hissed, hips twitching. The sound made me bolder. I pumped him a few times, watching his jaw clench, his abs tighten. Then I sank to my knees between his thighs.
I leaned in, tongue darting out to taste him first — salty, musky. I took the head into my mouth, sucking softly, swirling my tongue.
He groaned again, louder. I took more, cheeks hollowing, bobbing slowly at first, then deeper. Saliva dripped, messy and wet.
My free hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently. He was throbbing against my tongue, leaking more precum. I loved the power of it — making this controlled, powerful man unravel with just my mouth.
“Enough,” he rasped eventually, voice strained. “I don’t want to c*m yet.”
I pulled off with a wet pop, lips swollen, chin slick. He stood, kicked his pants away, reached for my zipper — but I stopped him.
“No,” I said, pushing him back onto the bed. “I’m in control, remember?”
He lay back, eyes dark with hunger, but he didn’t fight it.
I peeled my dress up over my head, letting it drop. No bra. No panties — just like he told me.
My breasts felt heavy, n*****s tight and aching. Between my thighs I was soaked, slickness already coating my inner legs.
I climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips.
I positioned myself over him, rubbing the thick head of his c**k against my folds, coating him in my wetness. Then I sank down slow, so slow… feeling every inch stretch me open. It burned a little, the fullness overwhelming, but good. So good. I bottomed out with a gasp, his c**k buried deep, pressing against places I didn’t know existed.
“Oh f**k,” I breathed, eyes fluttering shut.
I started moving — small rolls of my hips at first, grinding my c**t against him. Pleasure sparked through me. My breasts bounced with each motion. I leaned forward, hands braced on his chest, and rode harder — up and down, the wet slap of our bodies loud in the quiet room.
“Like that?” I panted, slamming down faster.
“Yes,” he growled. “f**k, Kris. Just like that.”
I changed the angle, leaning forward so he hit deeper. My glasses slipped down my nose; he reached up to push them back gently. The tenderness made my heart stutter. I rode him relentlessly now, chasing the building heat. My thighs trembled. I was close.
But I wanted more.
I lifted off him — his c**k glistening with my arousal — and flipped over for the reverse cowgirl.
I reached back to guide him inside again. Deeper this way. I leaned forward, hands on his thighs, and started bouncing — hard, fast, my ass slapping against his hips. The angle was perfect, hitting that spot inside me over and over.
He smacked my ass once… light, testing. I moaned, loud and shameless. “Again.”
But he didn’t. He just gripped my hips loosely, letting me set the brutal pace. I reached between my legs, fingers circling my c**t frantically. The pressure coiled tight, unbearable.
“c*m on my c**k,” he murmured… low, commanding, but not taking over.
I shattered. My body seizing, a high cry tearing from my throat as my walls pulsed around him in hard, rhythmic waves. Pleasure crashed through me, white-hot. He followed seconds later, groaning deep, hips bucking as he filled me — hot spurts flooding inside, spilling out around his c**k as I ground through the aftershocks.
We collapsed, panting. I slid off him, curled against his side. My body felt boneless, sated. Attached already.
“Do you… want to do this more often?” I asked softly, tracing lazy circles on his chest.
He smiled, but there was something shadowed in it. “This isn’t how my s*x life usually is, Kris. I like you. I want you. But I have a completely different life. Different… preferences.”
I propped up on one elbow, frowning. “What do you mean?”
He reached for the nightstand, pulled out a sealed manila envelope and handed it to me.
“Read this. If you go through it and you’re up for the kind of thing I do… call me.”
I turned it over in my hands. “What is it?”
“You’ll see.” He kissed my forehead. “It’s strange. I know. Just… think about it.”
I nodded, but unease flickered in my chest. Very strange.
We dressed quietly. He took my hand, led me out a private exit to his waiting car.
“Where are we going?” I asked, envelope still clutched tight.
“My beach house. Not far. I want you again.”
My pulse jumped at the fact that he desired more of me. I nodded.
The beach house was stunning — secluded, modern, windows framing the dark ocean. Waves crashed outside as he backed me against the wall inside. This time it was slower, gentler. His mouth on mine, deep and languid. Hands sliding under my dress, finding me still slick and sensitive from earlier.
He lifted me, legs wrapping around his waist, carried me to the massive bed. This time it was vanilla — sweet, almost romantic. Slow, deep thrusts, eyes locked on mine. He kissed my neck, sucked my n*****s until I whimpered, stroked in and out with steady, rolling hips.
I came clutching his shoulders, crying out softly. He followed, burying his face in my hair, groaning my name.
Afterward we lay tangled, my head on his chest, listening to the ocean. I fell asleep like that with his c**k still inside of me - safe, warm, in love.
He woke me gently later, drove me home. At my door he kissed me one last time — lingering, tender.
“I’m expecting your call, Kris.”
I nodded, envelope in hand, heart full. “Goodnight, Niklaus.”
I watched his taillights disappear before going inside.
…
Later, alone in my small living room, curiosity won. I tore open the envelope.
Fifteen pages. A contract — detailed, clinical. Rules. Limits. Safewords. Clauses about submission, obedience, punishment. Whips. Bindings. Cameras. Ownership. Consent forms. Appendices with hard limits, soft limits, aftercare protocols.
My hands shook as I read.
In awe, heart pounding, I whispered to the empty room, “He needs a shrink.”
- Writer
