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Running Scared

Running Scared

The most dangerous games are played at night.
Ella’s heart was beating so hard that she could feel the thuds reverberating in her ears. Everything felt dark and uncertain. It was late at night and the library was supposed to be closed. She knew the way to get in though, and so did he. It happened every Friday night and tonight was no exception. She didn’t know who’d arrived first but she was sure he was here somewhere, stalking her through the bookcases. She could smell his aftershave and more than that; she could feel his daunting presence.

He terrified her. Eyes wide and watchful, she walked silently through the rows of bookcases, hardly daring to breathe in case he heard. Light from the streetlamps outside filtered through the huge uncovered windows, making it easier for her to make out the shapes of tables and furniture. She knew she could still walk straight into him though. It had happened before and all her senses were accordingly on high alert.

Nervously, she ran the tips of her fingers along the shelves of books, pausing occasionally to strain her eyes and check a title in order to fathom exactly which section of the vast library she was in. It was like a maze, but instead of trying to find something in the middle, she was trying to hide. She didn’t know why. He aroused her more than he terrified her; she knew when he finally found her she’d be ready for him, but the waiting game gave her an unexplainable thrill.

Shadows gave her a place to hide but they served the same purpose for him and she knew the façade of equality automatically meant he was going to win. He was so much shrewder than her; it felt like he was one step ahead, just watching her and deciding when to make his move. Her mind was playing games with her now; games even more complicated than his. She’d think she’d seen him and then when she blinked he was gone.

The scent of him was getting stronger and Ella couldn’t tell whether that was because he was getting closer or because she was trailing him. Maybe he’d been standing in the same place all along and she was just walking straight into his trap. The thought made her palms sweat and her stomach squirm. Should she turn back? No, he could be right behind her. But he could be right in front of her too. She had no way of knowing.

Don’t move ; that was the only option. She leaned against the closest bookcase, telling herself that this way he couldn’t creep up behind her. Her anxious blue eyes flicked continuously from left to right, waiting for some sign that he was getting closer, that she needed to make a move. There was nothing. No sound of breathing, no scuff of shoes on the polished hardwood floor, no rustle of clothing. Yet he was there, she could sense it. He was making her skin prickle and her excitement soar.

Nothing. Nothing . She bit on her lip and pressed her legs together to ease the ache of longing in her core. Maybe she was imagining it all. Maybe he wasn’t here at all; maybe something had happened and she was just sensing him because she wanted to, not because he was actually present. The thought made her heart sink. Every day of the week she looked forward to tonight. The pressures of studying and working made her crave his panacea and to think he might not have showed up made her stomach turn. Maybe he was tired of these games. Maybe he had better things to do, better girls to do.

“I know you’re here somewhere.”

Ella’s heart palpitated. Relief followed swiftly by panic flooded her veins. His voice was alarmingly close. He was on the other side of the bookcase. She edged slowly away, unsure of which direction to head in, afraid they might meet at the end of the solid oak shelves.

“I’m gonna find you,” he murmured, almost under his breath. “And when I do…”

His voice was vaguely taunting but with the unmistakable husky quality she’d come to love. Left, take left. She headed noiselessly across the floor, her fingernails digging into her palms. She reached the end of the bookcase and paused, unsure of whether to proceed. He could be standing two feet away, or twenty feet away. Swallowing hard, she slowly peered around the corner. He wasn’t there. Unthinkingly, she breathed out a sigh of relief, her hand clamping over her mouth a precious few seconds too late.

She heard him move swiftly as he caught the sound. His mocking voice reached her ears, so close she could almost feel the heat of his breath.

“Bet you wish I didn’t hear that.”

Ella turned and ran. She knew she was making more noise than they’d collectively made all night but she figured that since she had nothing to lose, putting some distance between them was her best shot. Her heart thumped frantically as she searched for a new hiding place; a place where she could slow her breathing and lie low until he lost her scent.

His footsteps were behind her. He wasn’t chasing. He was walking slowly and aimlessly, confident in the fact that he didn’t need to seek her out, that she’d reveal herself to him eventually, whether purposefully or not. His coolness scared her, only because she knew he was mentally winning the game. But she wanted him to win, didn’t she? Or did she? She didn’t have time to think. She’d reached the huge Non-Fiction section of the library. Pausing behind the news stand, she wondered whether to head for Babies or Badminton. Neither really appealed to her.

“You know I don’t like it when you make me wait, Ella.”

She knew he didn’t. He’d get angry. But then again, she liked him angry. Picking Badminton, she quickly and quietly paced past the books, choosing not to rest but to keep walking through the labyrinth of bookcases. So long as she kept moving, he wouldn’t find her.

“We’ve got all night to do this.”

His voice was fainter now and the knowledge that he was far away comforted her. She tucked her long hair behind her ears and found herself wishing she’d had the sense to tie it up. Her feet moved slowly now; the moment of danger had passed and she let herself relax a little, her breathing returning to a normal pace. Don’t get lax. It was rule number one and she had no desire to break it. She’d done it before; thought he was far away and let her senses unwind only to feel his strong hand around her wrist and his hard body pressing against hers.

Ella reached the end of a bookcase and leaned against the decades old wood, listening hard for any indication of movement. All was silent, except her. Her breathing sounded unnecessarily loud and she wished she could quieten the beat of her heart. Her eyes scanned the area around her. There was nothing and somehow this scared her even more than knowing he was close. Waves of trepidation and fear rippled through the sea of her emotions.

Trying to calm her nerves, she allowed her mind to wander and imagined how it’d feel when he finally caught her. She loved the chase but the sex was what she ultimately craved. The running was like foreplay; a tantalising prelude to the moment when he’d finally take her, hard and fast, just how she liked. His hands would be rough, his mouth would be insistent and his cock would be transcendent. Dangerous, demanding and so utterly desirable.

She knew she was wet. Wet, ready and desperate for him. But that didn’t mean she was going to give up yet. Friday nights made her feel alive. She loved feeling this way. Beyond the fear was exhilaration; a blend of adrenalin and desire rushing through her veins; making her feel free and unrestricted.

“I’m getting tired of this.”

His voice echoed in the huge building. Ella looked up at the colossal domed roof and breathed out a long sigh. He could be anywhere.

“Find me then.”

She imagined him turning at the sound of her voice, and the thought made her smile. She rolled out the tension in her neck. It had been a long day and although parts of her body were hinting for sleep, her mind had never felt so animated. A dull thud made her senses snap back to attention. He wasn’t far. Time to move. Softly, she treaded in and out of the bookcases, not really sure of where she was going, but satisfied that she was putting more distance between them.

Then she backed up against something. Something that shouldn’t have been there. Something that felt too warm and alive to be a piece of furniture. Fuck. By the time she realised she needed to run, his hands had grabbed her waist and his amused chuckle was vibrating in her eardrums.

“Finally. I knew you wouldn’t last long.”

Struggling was futile; there was no escape from his iron grip. His chin rested on the top of her head and he held her close for a few seconds, making her feel like he owned her entirely. Ella stood perfectly still. His left hand moved north to rest against the curve of her breast. She knew he could feel her heart beating like crazy.

“Are you scared?”



She was scared but not enough to make her not want to be there. She wouldn’t have left for anything. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head back so he could roughly kiss across her neck, his stubble scratching against her smooth skin. He inhaled her scent and pulled her body closer to his; so close she could feel past the layers of clothing to the hardness in his pants.

His hands skimmed the waistband of her jeans, inching upwards to trail across the flat of her stomach. She wondered if he could feel the butterflies. They were going crazy, spinning around in a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation.

“Did you miss me?”

His voice was soft and she felt the very tip of his tongue trace around the shell of her ear.


He laughed quietly and let his hands move swiftly upwards to cup her breasts. Ella felt the rough pads of his thumbs sweep across her nipples. A spark of pleasure radiated from her core and she had to fight the urge to push her chest forward into his hands. Don’t be needy. He rolled one nipple between his forefinger and thumb and applied just enough pressure to make her moan out loud.

“So you didn’t miss me?” The amusement was evident in his voice.

“Course not.”

She rolled her eyes at herself even as she told the lie. He didn’t have to know that she’d relived last week’s events in her head each and every night before she went to sleep. He didn’t have to know the number of times she’d buried her fingers in her dripping pussy and imagined they were his. And he definitely didn’t need to know that she’d pictured his shadowy face each and every time she came.

Oh, he didn’t need to know any of that. All he needed to know was that she was ready for him, here and now. She pressed her ass against his crotch and let out a sigh of longing. He felt so mouth-wateringly hard and she knew he was going to make her feel incredible.

His hands dropped to her jeans and his fingers worked deftly to undo the button and pull her zipper down. Then his hand was in her panties and she couldn’t help comparing it to her own, marvelling at how much bigger and more substantial it felt. His fingers were strong and rough and they moved back and forth between her slick velvet folds, testing just how wet she was.

His breath caught in his throat. He pushed her roughly forward to stumble against one of the oak bookcases, and he tugged her jeans and panties down to her knees. The urgent hiss of his zipper followed and then his hand was guiding hers to wrap around his hard cock. Ella stroked her fingertips across the stiff length, tracing each ridge and vein and basking in the feel of his masculinity. Circling her thumb around the tip, she squeezed hard and shut her eyes as she heard his sharp intake of breath.

She half-turned, but he grasped her hands and held them tightly behind her back, holding her in place.

“I want to taste you.” She whispered the words, already knowing what the response would be.

“Maybe next time.”

He held her wrists tightly in one hand and used the other to guide his cock to her entrance. She wanted to spread her legs wider, to ease entry and enjoy the feeling but her jeans restricted her. She realised he’d left them around her knees not due to haste, but simply because he enjoyed her discomfort. The thought thrilled her.

One of his fingers dipped briefly inside her and then it was gone and his cock was easing forward, sliding slowly and painstakingly into her tight passage. Ella closed her eyes as she felt herself stretch to accommodate his girth. She had an aching desire to rub at her clit and get an advance on the inevitable pleasure but he was still holding her hands, and so she could do nothing but accept the forceful slide of his cock and let him do what he deemed best with her body.

He went slow at first, allowing her to settle into the rhythm and then he quickened, going harder, giving her what she’d been waiting for. It was everything she wanted. Every time she tried to move her legs further apart, she’d feel his grip tighten on her wrists, silently foreboding. She pressed her forehead against the cool wood and gasped out her appreciation.

“Do you like that?” He rasped out the question as he slammed in to the hilt, pausing there for a few heart stopping seconds.

“So much…” Ella arched her body and felt him letting go of her hands.

“Don’t move them,” he murmured.

She didn’t, despite how much she wanted to. She kept them there at the small of her back as he explored her body, his fingers tracing each of her ribs, before moving up and tugging at her nipples. The desire to touch him was overwhelming. She wanted to turn around and run her hands across his chest and press her mouth against every last inch of his body. But she couldn’t.

His fingers dug into her ass as he fucked her hard, sending his cock deep inside her with each thrust. She could feel the sweat on the back of her neck and her mouth hung open as she gasped for air to give her the strength to push back against him.

“I want to touch you.”

Her voice came out as a whine and his throaty laugh made her shiver.

“Maybe next time.”

“That’s what you always say.”

He laughed again and drove his cock in as far as it could go. He paused, one hand moving around her waist and seeking out her throbbing clit. His finger rubbed at it with a slow, torturous pace.

“Does that feel good?”

He began moving again.

“Ohh…” Ella bit down hard on her lower lip. “It feels… amazing.”

His laugh echoed in her ears and he rubbed harder at her clit, slamming deep inside her. She could feel the ripples of pleasure coursing through her, the familiar rush before the peak but just as her pussy spasmed in anticipation, he stopped. His fingers moved away from her clit and she felt them at her mouth.


He murmured and like a good girl, she obeyed, sucking them into her mouth to taste her own sweet desire on his fingertips. He waited until she was done, and then his hands took hold of hers again, pinning them above her head to the cold wood of the bookcase.

Ella felt her body naturally curve and her ass pushed out further towards him as he resumed fucking her hard, his breath coming out in hoarse, raucous pants. She felt delirious. Her pussy was so wet she could hear the wet slurping sounds each time his cock moved in and out of her and the tops of her thighs were slick with her own juices. Her eyes stared vacantly at the floor, her mouth hanging open to emit her cries of pleasure each time he bottomed out inside her.

He was breathing as hard as he was fucking and she could feel herself shaking with need, desperate for release. It was always this way. He had so much more stamina than her and she had to wait for him, which ultimately made everything so much more mind-blowing. Waiting always intensified the eventual sweetness. His cock moved hard and fast, taking her minutely closer with each thrust.

He was muttering filthy words under his breath, words that would have made her blush in any other situation. But in the heat of the moment, they only increased her desire. She wanted him to fuck her so hard that she felt it for days afterward. She wanted him to thrust deep inside her. She wanted his come. And she told him so. Spurred him on with her desperate, dirty requests and let him pound her aching pussy as hard as he liked.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t encourage her. Each time she said something that pleased him, he’d jolt hard into her and make her cry out with longing. He soaked up every last word she said and used it to slam powerfully into her over and over again until she was moaning wildly, unable to form another coherent word or thought. She came at long last. A groan of utter satisfaction escaped from her lips as her body trembled under his. Her spasming pussy clenched hard around his thick cock and she felt his weight pushing her against the bookcase as he finally released; spurting his come deep inside her throbbing pussy.

Ella couldn’t have asked for anything better. Her body rode out all the pleasure, aftershocks resonating long after the initial eruption. She felt his hand sweep her hair aside and his warm lips press against the back of her neck. She knew he’d be gone in a few minutes and she wanted nothing more than him to stay.

Lazily, she opened one eye, seeing nothing but shadowed bookcase.

“Come home with me.” she murmured.

She felt his smile against her neck. “Maybe next time.”

“You always say that.”

“I know.”

He kissed her once more and then eased himself from her. She turned to hurriedly press a kiss to his lips and he lingered long enough to make her heart flutter inside her chest. Then he disappeared into the darkness.

Ella closed her eyes and leaned back against the bookcase. She knew nothing about him. She didn’t know where he worked or who his parents were or how old he was. She didn’t know what he looked like in the clear light of day. She didn’t even know his name. For all she knew he could be a wanted convict. But so what? No information in the world would have changed the fact that she’d turn up again next week, ready to be hunted down.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright Emilia Adams 2011-2015. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author.

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