Micrographia

There's only so many routes to get to the library on campus, and unfortunately for Monique, the only path that'll keep her out of the near torrential downpour outside is the longest.

She trudges through it, lamenting the soaked cuffs of her jeans as her shoes squeak through the halls, down the winding corridor, only occasionally making necessary turns.

Eventually, the college student reaches the library, which, probably on account of the rain, is bustling with an unusual amount of students. Derek Robinson is seated at their usual desk, surrounded by a veritable fortress of economics textbooks. His face is drawn into a frown as he stares at his phone, the wrinkle between his blond brows growing deeper by the second.

Somehow, he's managed to stop anyone from sitting in any of the available chairs surrounding the desk he's stationed at, and whatever he's reading on his phone is so engrossing, he doesn't hear her approach.

Monique swings her backpack onto the table, disrupting the book tower to sink into the chair next to his. He turns to acknowledge her, a tip of his chin and a small smile that he seems to reserve just for her. Monique stares back at him, cataloguing the soft green colour of his eyes, the way said eyes crinkle in happiness when he sees her.

"I don't know why I tutor you," She sighs heavily in lieu of a greeting, "one of us has a job lined up, just waiting for them after graduation and the other has... a cat who potentially has ringworm." Monique frowns, wiping a palm over her face.

"No." His answering smile is wide and easy, and it's almost annoying how handsome he can be. "Not Ares!" He gasps her cat's name theatrically, placing a hand to his chest in playful surprise. The movement forces her eyes to track the strain of his T-shirt against his bicep, before she scolds herself into maintaining eye contact.

"Yes, Ares. I think he's been eating Tony's trash again." She mumbles, pulling a few more textbooks out of her burdensome bag to add to the table.

"Send him the vet bill." Derek shrugs, hooking his foot around one of the legs of her chair, tugging the woman closer. She doesn't complain, falling almost immediately into the easy routine of their tutoring sessions.

-o-

Monique and Derek are only an hour into their content revising when Derek's phone begins vibrating, and she peeks at him just in time to see him decline the call with a decisive swipe.

"Sorry." He whispers, tucking the device away, before he taps two fingers against the book they're both hunched over. "Let's uh-"

He's cut off almost immediately by another sudden onset of buzzing, and he snatches the phone out of his pocket, peering at the screen while he mutters a terse apology to her, cheeks pink.

He scoffs, declining the call again. Which is... interesting, enough that Mo leans back in her chair, giving her back some much needed relief.

"Someone's popular." She whispers, and winces immediately after, hoping she didn't sound as jealous to him as she did to herself. Because she wasn't jealous. Had no reason to be.

Nope, not jealous.

"Hardly." Derek chuckles, "It's Damien." He rolls his eyes, and she perks up a bit at the mention of Derek's roommate, dark curls bouncing with the movement. "Trying to convince me to convince you to come with us to that party tonight."

She hums, pressing together the pouty lips of her mouth and making a show of flicking through one of the textbooks, being sure not to look directly at Derek. "Oh! Well I was going to stay home and watch Pride and Prejudice again but if Damien wants me to-"

"Careful, princess." He warns, cutting off her taunting decisively. The stare he pins her with is loaded, dark and interested in a way she's slowly getting used to. It's shockingly easy to rile the business major up, to goad him into action.

Derek places his hand over her knee, and his palm is far warmer than she expected, seeping through her jeans and branding her skin in the shape of his hand. His fingers inch their way up Monique's thigh, until he reaches her waistband, slipping his digits inside so he can drag the pads of them against the bare skin of her deep brown hip.

"You wouldn't want to make me jealous, would you? Playing with a guy's feelings... not very nice." His fingers are insistent, tracing slow, small circles over her heated skin.

"Who, me?" She bats her dark eyelashes at him, rising to the bait, playing along, and when he tilts his head, letting his eyes drop to her lips, she has to suck in a steadying breath through her teeth. "I'm always nice."

"Sure you are, baby." The two of them are barely an inch apart now, and every second that ticks by makes it harder and harder for her to remember why she came to the library in the first place. Monique tries not to lose her train of thought, trying not to get swept up in the pull Derek always seems to just... have. But he has her, has had her for months, all those days of sneaking off with each other before lectures, during parties, after tutoring sessions couldn't make Monique immune to the way he looks at her. Like he can't quite believe she exists, like he can't believe she wants him.

His phone buzzes noisily against the table once again, and it's enough to snap Monique from her daze, at least for now.

"This is why we stopped studying in your dorm room." She whispers, eyes narrowed to hide the impatient need she's sure is visible in her dark brown gaze. She chances a quick peek at the students around them, relieved to see no one is paying the two of them any mind.

Derek shakes his head, rolling his eyes, but he does remove his hand, which... is a win, but only technically.

She tries not to feel the loss too badly.

"Uh, no. We stopped studying in my room because the RA was tired of hearing you scream my name." He smirks and Monique is immediately overcome with flashes of Derek's hands on her the week before, pushing her plush thighs apart, murmuring sweet praise, whispering her name as he fucked into her.

"We are in a library." She hisses through her teeth at him, trying to cover up the embarrassment and interest flooding through her body. The man only laughs in response, covering his mouth with his hand to remain quiet.

Monique glares at him for a moment, before dramatically packing up her textbooks, the gold bangles around her wrist jingling softly with her movements; "Alright, I'm out of here, you can study by yourself."

Derek lunges forward, laughing, probably louder than he should be, wrapping a hand around her wrist to tug Mo back into her chair, "No, no, no, no. Come here, I'm sorry!" He stutters through bursts of laughter, "Sorry, sorry baby, I'm sorry!"

"Are we going to study or not?" She crosses her arm over her chest, trying to appear stern.

"Alright." He says in response, rapping his knuckles on the table, loud enough that a few students around them shoot the pair curious glances. "C'mon."

Derek stands, extending a hand to her. "Come on, where?" She can just tell by the look on his face he is fighting tooth and nail to not turn her question into a dirty joke.

"We're going to take a break. Get our minds right." The way he says it sounds innocent, but Monique knows better. She packs up her books, grateful she left her laptop behind this go round, trying to keep herself from getting distracted.

Not that it seemed to work.

Once her hand is in his, he pulls her off into the stacks, through ancient history and past non-fiction, until their both face to face with a discreetly located supply closet, nestled between shelves holding heavy, thick books with long rambling titles like "Micrographia or Some Physiological Descriptions of Minute Bodies". Everything within sight is covered with a thin layer of dust, the area is clearly rarely visited, even by the librarians.

"Well?" For a moment, she isn't sure what he expects of her, did he want her to pick something to read?

Then, when he wraps a strong arm around her slight shoulders and walks her closer to the supply closet door, it becomes brilliantly clear to Monique, all at once.

"Are you crazy?" The woman struggles against him, but it's mostly for show. The library had, mercifully, begun clearing out while they were studying, thanks to the sun peeking through the dense grey rain clouds that'd been covering campus.

"No one is ever in here." Derek defends easily, "And there's no way either of us are going to be able to focus on incentives or scarcity when there's something far more interesting for us to do." His hand is already on the door handle, and he raises an eyebrow at his study partner, sizing her up, daring her.

And she hates turning down dares.

Monique barely makes it into the supply closet before she's firmly in his arms, dragging his hand down to cup her ass as her tongue explores his mouth. She moans into him, eyes screwed shut while she pants his name in between each kiss. Every second she spends her mouth pressed to his, drives her fucking crazy, half-drunk on his taste. She sinks her fingers into the dark locks of his hair, the edges of her nails scratching lightly against his scalp. The sensation seems to weaken the man's knees and he rewards Monique by pulling her in tight, making sure she can distinguish the line of his erection against the flesh of her belly.

The way he calls for her, murmurs her name into her ear? It sets Monique's blood on fire, makes her forget where she is, that things are supposed to be casual between the two of them.

Fun.

Easy.

Derek raises his hand, sliding his fingers back into the soft coils of her hair, tugging to pull Mo closer, angling his head down, and her heart speeds up in anticipation of his kiss.

There's a commotion just outside the closet door, and the both of them tense, impending kiss forgotten in the tension. For a moment, all that's audible is the sound of their breathing, uneven and fast.

The little supply room is larger than she thought it'd be, and when the disturbance passes, the college students both release sighs of relief. She's rethinking the nature of their "study break" now, at least... she would be, if Derek wasn't currently dropping to his knees between her thighs, sliding down her jeans and underwear in one, fluid, practiced move. Monique shifts and steps out of the clothing without complaint, already way past the point of pretending to care about anything that isn't the man beneath her.

The business major uses his thumbs to spread her apart, baring the entrance of her pussy to his eyes. She's soaked, the clenching entrance of her sex winking her interest at him.

"Look at how wet you are, baby." His voice is rough with want and awe, like he couldn't believe his luck, like he hadn't known this exact scenario would happen the minute he texted her the day before. His mouth finds its way to her clit, holding the bundle of sensitive nerves captive between his lips and tongue. The persistent, hot pressure he applies against it has her legs shaking already, and Monique desperately rocks back against his mouth, unwilling to let him separate from her for even a second. Derek takes over all of her senses; he's all Mo can smell, feel, hear, until she can do nothing but rut herself over his tongue. Her body shivers as a hungry, near angry groan rips itself from his throat.

It's hard not to crumble to the floor under his attention. It's hard to think with his deep, clean scent filling her lungs and mind with a thick haze. Harder still to breathe with her pussy parted and dripping around his tongue.

But she manages. In and out, while he takes the woman apart, nipping at the soft lips of her heat, teasing her by dipping his tongue inside, only to withdraw when her moans get too loud. He reduces Mo to empty-minded pleasure, eating her like he wants to devour her whole.

It's already near impossible to keep herself quiet. It's all Monique can do not to sob in frustration, so close but she needs more. More friction, more pressure. She parts her lips, prepared to lay down her pride to ask, but when he pushes one finger inside her cunt, then a second, her voice stalls in her throat, withering down to a sharp, overwhelmed whine.

The coil in her abdomen snaps, and Monique tenses and relaxes as her orgasm wracks her body in pleasured waves. Air returns to her lungs all at once, and she hadn't even noticed she was holding her breath. Derek continues to lap at her pussy, carrying her through her climax, murmuring sweetly to his girl in between feather light kisses on the inside of her thighs. Her head swims, taken up by sensation and heat. He finally withdraws, sliding a palm against her ass and sighing with satisfaction like it had been her on her knees.

Monique has to press against the door to give Derek enough space to stand, and even still, his body pushes against hers by necessity, skin on skin for several mind-numbing moments as he rises back to full height.

Her forehead against the thick, cool wood of the door feels so good, a tiny break from the heat of the room around them. Of the man behind her. She's lucky she doesn't burst into flames, the way Derek makes her feel, the way he handles her. All sure, strong hands and smooth words.

Before she can get all the feeling back in her legs, he's got his clothes half off and his hands back on her body, rubbing the crown of his length over her clit, smearing her wetness over both of them. He curses under his breath before he's even inside her, letting his head fall back in satisfaction as he presses his dick to her entrance, trying his best to go slow, to inch himself inside her sex as gently as he can manage. Mo screws her eyes shut and tenses her stomach, breathing so slight and fast she's almost worried she'll hyperventilate.

Derek keeps pushing deeper and deeper inside, until she's sure her insides have taken his shape. Monique nearly chokes on her tongue at the feeling, shifting her hips as his length nudges against the slick walls of her pussy.

"G-god!" Mo gasp, and Derek drops his head to her shoulder, hands squeezing at her hips as he mouths along her throat, kissing and nipping a hot trail across her skin. The first thrust of his hips jolts her forward, filling her completely. Her thighs shake in response, core clenching down on him, relentless and greedy.

"You look so pretty like this. Stretched on my dick. You know that right? You know you look pretty?" He coos above Monique, audibly struggling to maintain control, to not come before she does. The dark haired co-ed tries to keep up, trying to muffle her pleasured cries while his hands roam her body.

"Answer me." He claps a hand down against the skin of her thigh, the sting of the smack furthering her state of frenzy.

"Yes." She hisses, rolling her hips, meeting his own. One of Derek's hands wraps around her wrist, using the momentum to pull her against him, urging her to ride the length of him.

"Say it." He thunders, thrusting hard against the apex of her thighs.

"I look p-pretty on your dick." Her chest bounces with every jolt, she clenches down on him, filling the air with the slick sound of their coupling. Monique pushes back and rolls forward, over and over as the coil in her abdomen repeatedly tenses, only to relax, then tense all over again. Derek rocks against her, huffing heavy breaths against her back, carving a path within, pulling out until only his tip is inside before slamming home, rattling the frosted glass of the supply closet door.

It's sweltering between the two of them, and she's risking being fucked out of her mind, "So... good." Monique pants, eyes watering with the sensation.

"Thank me." He orders between nipping at the hollow of her throat, sinking his fingers into the skin of her hip, "Thank me for taking care of you, princess."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Monique comes just like that, with praise and adoration spilling from her kiss-bruised lips, legs shaking from the strength of her orgasm.

"Yes." He grunts above you, his pace increasing, fucking her with force, keeping her still in his grip so he can chase his own peak within her. "Good girl. So damn good, perfect." He hisses into her ear, groaning deep and satisfied as he comes, spilling inside Mo. She wishes she could see him, she wishes she could touch him beyond the bit of contact she gets from chest against her back, his hands on her sides.

The two of them struggle to catch their breath, chests rising and falling in near tandem as Monique comes down from her high. The woman shifts a bit, shivering as his cock twitches its content within her. Derek drags his palms against her stomach, over the top of one of her thighs, rubbing at her skin possessively.

After a few quiet moments, her study partner finally pulls out, shuddering at the sensation of removing himself from between her thighs. His laugh is breathless, almost disbelieving, while he tries to fix the awkward, half undressed state of his clothing.

"You've got class in a little bit, don't you?" It's hard to hear him past the blood roaring in her ears, the heavy pound of her heart. But she manages, slowly becoming more and more rational as her brain catches up to her body.

Still, Mo can barely answer him, nodding in a daze while her eyelids hang low and heavy, half-mast with lingering pleasure. She's still leaning against the closet door, damp palms pressed against the wood and glass, when Derek turns her around to face him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are heavy lidded, pleased, bordering on smug.

He inhales deeply, through his nose, and drags his eyes over her body, still sweaty and unstable, whatever he sees seems to please him all the more, and he kisses her softly, once, twice, three times. Ever the gentleman (when he wasn't an absolute menace), Derek helps Monique dress, ignoring her yelp of protest when he tugs her underwear up, trapping his cum between her legs. He pats the spot, his expression practically brimming with pride.

"Better keep those thighs shut real tight, pretty girl. Wouldn't want to make a mess."