CHAPTER 10: LIBRARIAN SUBMISSION PT 1

The library was nearly empty and the lights had been dimmed for closing. Sophia stood in the narrow aisle of the history section, her arms raised as she slid an old book back into place on the top shelf, and her modest white blouse stretched across her full breasts with the movement while the top button strained just a little. The black pencil skirt hugged her wide hips and thick thighs, ending just below her knees, and her red hair was pulled into a neat bun while her black-rimmed glasses sat on her nose. At thirty-five, she looked every bit the quiet librarian, but the curve of her ass and the soft swell of her chest made the modest outfit still draw eyes.

It was past nine, and everyone else had left. She stayed late to reorganize this section like she often did when she needed quiet.

Heavy footsteps sounded at the end of the aisle, and then Sophia turned her head.

Marcus stood there, broad-shouldered and tall, wearing a dark button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his thick forearms. At forty-two, he had the solid build of a man who stayed strong, with a wide chest, strong jaw, and short dark hair with a touch of gray at the temples. He was a regular, always requesting rare business and history books, and she had noticed him many times, but he had never stayed this late.

“Still here, Sophia?”

His deep voice carried easily down the narrow space between the tall shelves.

She lowered her arms and adjusted her glasses.

“Yes. I wanted to finish this row before tomorrow. The library is closed, though. Did you need something?”

Marcus walked slowly toward her, and his presence filled the aisle, making the space feel smaller. The faint scent of his cologne, woodsy and warm, reached her before he did. He stopped a few feet away, looking at the books she had been arranging.

“I was finishing some research,” he said, and his eyes moved from the shelf to her face. “Rare first editions on early trade routes. You helped me find a few last month.”

Sophia nodded, feeling her pulse quicken, and something about the way he looked at her made her stomach tighten.

“I remember. Did you need another title?”

He took one more step closer, and now only an arm’s length separated them.

“Not tonight. I’ve been watching you for months, Sophia.”

Her breath caught, and she pressed her back lightly against the wooden shelves while the spines of books dug into her shoulder blades.

“Watching me?”

Marcus nodded slowly, and his dark eyes held hers.

“Every time I come in. The way you move between the stacks. The way your hips sway in that skirt. The way you bite your lip when you’re concentrating. You look so proper, so reserved. But I can see it underneath.”

Sophia’s cheeks burned, and she felt the heat spreading down her neck and across her chest while her full breasts rose and fell faster under her blouse.

“Mr. Marcus, I—”

“Just Marcus,” he corrected, his voice low and calm but commanding. “And I know there’s more to you than the quiet librarian act. I’ve seen the way your eyes linger sometimes. The way you flush when I stand close.”

The air between them felt thick, and Sophia could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. The library was completely silent except for the faint hum of the overhead lights and the occasional creak of old floorboards.

The dim lighting cast soft shadows across Marcus’s strong face, highlighting the line of his jaw and the width of his shoulders.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she whispered, but her voice lacked conviction, and her nipples had hardened against the fabric of her bra, pressing noticeably against her blouse. She crossed her arms, trying to hide it.

Marcus smiled slightly, not moving any closer but not backing away either.

“You do. You’re nervous right now, but your body is reacting. I can see your pulse right here.”

His eyes dropped briefly to the side of her neck where her heartbeat was visible, then returned to her eyes.

“And the way your thighs pressed together just now.”

Sophia realized she had done exactly that, squeezing her legs to ease the sudden throb between them, and the pencil skirt felt tighter around her wide hips. She could feel herself getting wet, the slick warmth starting to soak into her plain cotton panties.

“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?” he continued, his voice dropping even lower. “What it would be like if someone took control. Someone who wouldn’t treat you like the sweet, shy woman everyone sees. Someone who would peel back that proper exterior and make you submit.”

Sophia’s lips parted, and she couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were intense, steady, and hungry. The smell of old books and polished wood mixed with his cologne, filling her lungs with every quick breath, and her hands gripped the edge of a shelf behind her for support.

“I… I’m not like that,” she said softly, but her voice trembled.

Marcus tilted his head slightly.

“Aren’t you? Then why is your breathing so fast? Why are your cheeks flushed? Why haven’t you told me to leave?”

She had no answer. The truth was she didn’t want him to leave. The narrow aisle made everything feel intimate, and she could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his chest filled out his shirt, and the size of his hands. Those large hands that could easily…

Sophia shook the thought away, but it was too late. Fresh wetness slipped from her pussy, making her panties cling to her folds, and her clit pulsed steadily now, aching for pressure she refused to give.

Marcus took half a step closer. Not touching, but close enough that she could feel the heat from his body.

“I’ve imagined bending you over one of these shelves. Lifting that skirt up over your wide hips. Finding out how wet you get when someone tells you what to do.”

Her knees felt weak, and she pressed harder against the shelves while the wood creaked softly. The history books behind her dug into her back, a reminder of where they were, public even if empty, and the danger of it sent another rush of heat through her core.

“Tell me to leave if you want,” he said, eyes locked on hers. “Say the words and I’ll walk out right now.”

Sophia opened her mouth, but no words came. Her glasses had slipped slightly down her nose, and she pushed them back up with a shaky finger while Marcus watched every small movement.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, and his voice was like velvet wrapped around steel. “You want this. You’ve been hiding that wild side for too long. I can see it in your eyes right now, the nervousness, the excitement, the need.”

Sophia’s full breasts felt heavy, and her nipples were so hard they almost hurt. She could smell her own arousal faintly, a musky sweetness mixing with the dusty book smell, while her wide hips shifted and her thighs rubbed together again, seeking any kind of friction.

Marcus stayed perfectly still, towering over her in the narrow space.

“I’m going to enjoy breaking down those walls, Sophia. Slowly. I’m going to make you admit how much you want to submit. How wet it makes you when a man takes charge.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. Sophia’s breathing was audible now, soft and quick. Her red hair felt too tight in its bun, and a few strands had come loose and curled against her flushed neck. She could feel sweat forming in the small of her back, under her breasts, and between her thighs where her pussy throbbed insistently.

Marcus’s gaze moved slowly down her body, taking in the rise of her breasts, the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips in the tight skirt, then back up to her face. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t need to. The weight of his stare and the low authority in his voice did everything.

“You’re soaking right now, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

Sophia bit her lower lip and looked down, embarrassed but unable to deny it. Her clit ached, and her panties were definitely wet while the fabric clung uncomfortably to her swollen lips.

“Look at me,” he said.

She lifted her eyes. The eye contact felt more intimate than any touch, and his expression was calm but dominant, like he already knew he had her.

“Good girl,” he said softly.

Those two words sent a visible shiver through her curvy body. Sophia’s thighs clenched again, and more slick heat leaked out of her, ruining her panties further. The dim lights, the smell of old paper, the narrow aisle, and this powerful man standing so close all combined into something intoxicating.

Marcus leaned in just enough that his breath brushed her ear, but still no contact.

“We’re going to explore that hidden side of you. Starting tonight. And you’re going to let me.”

Sophia’s heart hammered against her ribs. She didn’t say yes. She didn’t say no. She simply stood there, back against the shelves, body trembling with nervousness and raw arousal, waiting for whatever came next.

The library stayed silent around them, and the history section now held a much more personal kind of tension.