Chapter 3: The Library Tryst
The scent of decaying paper and dust hung thick in the narrow aisle between the towering library shelves. Benito Perez ran a finger along the cracked spine of a forgotten economics treatise, the leather brittle under his touch. Moonlight filtered weakly through high, arched windows, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to creep between the rows of books. He needed this reference, needed the distraction from the phantom scent of slick and sweat that still clung to his memory, the ghost of Derek Hale imprinted on his senses since the office. Since the desk.
A shift in the air, subtle but unmistakable. Ozone and rain, undercut by that sweet, cloying musk. Benito froze, his Alpha senses prickling. He didn’t turn immediately, forcing his breathing to remain steady, his posture relaxed. The predator recognizing another predator, even if this one was Omega.
Footsteps, silent to human ears but a soft drumbeat to his, approached from the end of the aisle. Then Derek was there, stepping out from behind a shelf labeled '19th Century Mercantilism'. His green eyes, luminous in the dim light, locked onto Benito’s with unnerving intensity. No hesitation this time. No trembling hands. Derek moved with a predatory grace Benito hadn’t seen before, closing the distance between them in three swift strides. The air crackled.
"Professor Perez," Derek breathed, the title a deliberate provocation. His gaze dropped pointedly to Benito’s crotch. "Researching… supply chains?" A ghost of a smirk touched his lips, referencing the essay smeared on his desk just nights before.
Before Benito could form a retort, Derek was on him. Hands, strong and sure now, shoved Benito back a step until his shoulders hit the unforgiving wood of the shelves. Ancient books rattled in their slots. Derek’s fingers flew to Benito’s belt buckle, the metallic rasp shockingly loud in the hushed library.
"No," Benito growled, low and dangerous, catching Derek’s wrists. The Omega’s skin burned against his palms. "Not here, Derek. This is—"
"I need you inside me," Derek hissed, cutting him off, his voice raw, urgent. He wrenched his wrists free with surprising strength. "Now." His fingers found the button of Benito’s trousers, popped it, yanked the zipper down with a harsh, tearing sound. "Felt you watching me across the quad today. Saw that fucking look." He shoved Benito’s trousers and briefs down his hips in one violent motion. Benito’s cock sprang free, already thick and heavy, flushed dark in the cool air. "You want it too. Stop pretending."
Derek spun around, pressing his back against Benito’s chest, grinding his ass against Benito’s erection. The scent of slick bloomed instantly, thick and heady, cutting through the dust. Derek reached back, fingers digging into Benito’s hip, pulling him closer. "Fuck me against the books, Professor," he demanded, tilting his hips. "Like you fucked me on your desk. Hard. Raw."
The combination of defiance, need, and that overwhelming Omega scent shattered Benito’s thin restraint. His Alpha roared. Mine. Take. Now. With a snarl that vibrated deep in his chest, Benito shoved Derek forward, pinning him face-first against the spines of thick volumes on international trade. He kicked Derek’s feet wider apart, the movement rough, possessive. One hand clamped onto Derek’s hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise bone, while the other shoved down Derek’s jeans and briefs, exposing the perfect curve of his ass, already glistening obscenely with slick.
"Jodida perra hambrienta," Benito spat, the Spanish rough, guttural. He spat onto his fingers, then roughly smeared the saliva mixed with Derek’s own slick around the Omega’s twitching hole. "Always wet. Always ready for my cock." He gripped his own shaft, thick veins pulsing under his fingers, the head slick with pre-cum. He lined up, the blunt tip pressing against Derek’s loosened, dripping entrance. "You begged for this, cabrón."
He didn’t push slowly. He slammed forward, burying his entire length into Derek’s molten heat in one brutal, unforgiving thrust. The air punched out of Derek’s lungs in a choked gasp. Shelves groaned as Derek’s body slammed against them.
"¡Coño! Estás como un horno!" Benito groaned, hips flush against Derek’s ass, buried impossibly deep. The heat, the slick tightness clamping down on him, was blinding. He pulled back almost to the tip, savoring the obscene wet sound, the sight of his glistening cock withdrawing from Derek’s stretched hole, then drove back in with savage force. "¡Toma! ¡Toma toda mi verga, puta!"
The rhythm was punishing from the start. Short, brutal strokes that hammered Derek against the shelves with each forward slam. Benito leaned his weight into it, pinning Derek completely, his chest pressed against Derek’s back, his breath hot and ragged against Derek’s neck. The wet slap of skin on skin, the slick squelch of his cock plunging deep, the creak of the overloaded shelves – it was a symphony of raw need echoing in the silent library aisle.
"Fuck! Benito! Sí! Harder!" Derek gasped, pushing back against each thrust, meeting Benito’s power with desperate hunger. His fingers scrabbled uselessly against the book spines. "Deeper! Oh fuck, you’re splitting me open!"
Benito shifted his angle minutely, grinding his hips on the inward stroke. The thick head of his cock slammed directly into Derek’s prostate.
"¡AHHH! ¡Dios! THERE! FUCKING THERE!" Derek screamed, back arching violently, his body convulsing around Benito’s invading length. His cock jerked, spilling hot streaks of cum onto the leather-bound volumes below.
"¡Grita! ¡Grita para mí, zorro!" Benito commanded, hammering that sweet spot relentlessly, watching Derek unravel. "Te gusta que te rompa el culo aquí, entre los libros? ¿Como una puta barata?" He fucked Derek with raw, unrestrained force, each thrust driving the breath from both of them. The knot swelled instinctively at his base, pressing against Derek’s rim, demanding entry. Benito gritted his teeth, fighting the primal urge. No knotting. The rule was a thin thread holding back the flood.
He could feel his own climax coiling, tight and urgent in his balls. Derek’s inner muscles fluttered wildly around him, milking him, pulling him deeper. "¡Voy a venir! ¡Te voy a llenar ese coño sucio!" Benito snarled, his thrusts becoming frantic, losing rhythm.
He buried himself to the hilt one final time, grinding deep as Derek’s body clenched around him like a vice. With a guttural roar muffled against Derek’s shoulder, Benito erupted. Thick, hot pulses of cum flooded Derek’s channel, marking him deep inside. He felt Derek shudder again, a weaker aftershock, as Benito pumped his release into him.
They stayed locked together, panting harshly, slick with sweat, Benito’s softening cock still buried deep. The smell of sex, sweat, and Derek’s slick was overpowering, a stark violation of the library’s sanctity. Slowly, Benito withdrew, his cock slipping free with a wet sound, followed by a trickle of their mingled fluids down Derek’s inner thigh.
Derek slumped forward, resting his forehead against the cool book spines, his breathing ragged. Benito stared at the mark his grip had left on Derek’s hip, the reddened skin of his back pressed against the shelves. The professor surfaced with a sickening lurch. The library. Shelves of priceless texts. The risk. The sheer fucking recklessness.
He quickly pulled up his trousers, zipping them with trembling fingers. Derek straightened slowly, wincing as he tugged his own jeans up over his sticky thighs. He turned, his green eyes meeting Benito’s. There was no shame there, only a fierce, unsettling satisfaction, and something else… a challenge.
"Next time," Derek said, his voice hoarse but steady, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "my dorm. After midnight." He didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and walked down the shadowed aisle, disappearing between the shelves as silently as he’d arrived, leaving Benito alone amidst the smell of sex and old paper, the weight of his own conflicting hungers pressing down harder than any tome on the shelves around him.