Underworld Queen by Sharon Hamilton

o’clock, and had the urge to pop in at the library unannounced in order to see Molly. He thought about calling her first, but was afraid she had changed her mind or decided he was too old for her.
    Ten years. That’s not too old. And the way he felt right now, he was up for anything she could dish out, perhaps more. The day was brighter as he sprinted over, his laptop case flapping against his rear in the warm afternoon sun. He removed his bowtie, slipping it into his pocket and then unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt.
    He zipped his card through the security monitor, and with a sucking sound the automatic doors opened.
    He thought he could smell her already. It was a thrilling but ridiculous thought. He searched around the reference desk, between shelves of books in the area. He closed his eyes and yes, he could smell her. Is this some new power she has awakened in me? He couldn’t wait to feel the moist softness of her lips slathered with cherry lip balm, or to delicately pucker her white flawless skin just under her left ear; cause her a bruise with his passion.
    His dream was rewarded by the feel of her breasts against his back, as a soft perfumed hand snaked its way between the buttons of his cream colored shirt and worked lower. He whirled around so his eyes wouldn’t miss a single second of her look of lust for him.
    God! How I need that look. His arm encircled her waist and he pulled her into his chest, lowering his lips to hers as he burst into flames inside. She was his. His in every imaginable way and he willingly became lost in the folds of her clothes, the tendrils of her fiery hair and the smell and feel of her flesh pressed against his.
    The long feeding kiss was beginning to attract attention as he heard someone clear her throat. He stared into the disapproving jowls of the head librarian, standing not more than ten feet from the two of them.
    “Professor. This is not the place.”
    Carl looked from her stern face to Molly’s. “No, it’s not,” Molly agreed, smiling.
    “I’m sorry,” he barely got out before Molly grabbed his hand and led him in the opposite direction. The librarian’s body stood rigid. Carl knew he would hear from the Dean about this.
    But I don’t care anymore.
    Molly slipped them through a side door into the stacks room she opened with a pass card. He reached for the lights, but she grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast. The smell of old books and curled yellowed sheaves of paper sent a thrill up his spine. He felt called to adventure, daring, young and bold. The perfect place for a tryst, second only to his own bed.
    “Will she follow us here?”
    Molly held up a card. “I have hers. I’m doing some maintenance here today.”
    “So we won’t be disturbed?”
    “Prof…”
    “Please, call me Carl.”
    “Carl.” She blushed at the use of his name. Carl’s groin jolted so hard he almost fell over. She leaned into him, kissed him slowly, warmly breathing all over his face before pulling away, taking several long seconds. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t be disturbed, but we have a few minutes. Do you think…?”
    Carl boosted her onto a wooden worktable and climbed on top of her. He unbuckled and unzipped his pants quickly and let himself be found by her searching fingers. He urgently needed to get inside her before someone else stopped him. He moved her head, lying back in the nest of long red tangled hair. He wanted to see her eyes, sparkling green pools smiling back at him, underscored by her pouty pink lips. His hands searched for panties as she giggled.
    No panties!
    He adjusted her skirts and plunged in.
    This is better than before.
    Her back arched as he pumped inside her to the hilt. She exposed the long stretch of her creamy white neck. He saw the light blue vein under her ear pump and pulse, covered with the reddish purple bruise he had put there last night.
    You are so delicious.
    She brought her hands to his rear and pulled him deeper,