Library Ladder, Book of Desire

Ananya was trying to find a book on the high shelves of the villa’s library, standing precariously on the rolling wooden ladder. She felt a presence behind her before she heard him. Vikram climbed the ladder behind her, his body a solid wall of heat against her back. "Looking for something, Queen?" "A distraction," she breathed, her heart hammering. "I have a better one." He reached around her, his hand sliding under her skirt. He didn't use his fingers; he used the heavy, cold gold ring on his pinky to trace the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The contrast of the cold metal and his hot palm was too much. Ananya leaned her forehead against the books, her hands gripping the rungs of the ladder. "Vikram, we're... we're too high up," she whimpered. "Then hold on tight to me," he growled. He turned her around on the narrow step, making her wrap her legs around his waist as he held onto the ladder with one hand. It was a feat of strength that only a man like him could achieve. He took her there, suspended in the air amongst centuries of literature, proving that no matter how many books she read, the only thing that could truly satisfy her was the raw, unedited power of the man who owned her soul.

Ananya’s breath hitched as Vikram’s thumb pressed into the seam of her thighs, his ring gliding higher with deliberate slowness. The cold bite of metal made her shiver—not from discomfort, but from the way his other hand fisted in her hair, just barely enough to remind her exactly who was in control. "Too high up?" His voice was low, roughened by amusement. "Perfect. No one can hear you scream but me." The gold of his ring left a faint indent near her dripping center, and then it was gone, replaced by the scorching warmth of his fingers as he slipped two into her, knuckles deep. "Oh—*fuck*—" Her back arched against the ladder, the rungs biting into her ribs, but she couldn’t pull away. Couldn’t beg. Because Vikram would *punish* her for that. Instead, she whimpered as he pushed her skirt higher with his free hand, tugging until the fabric was twisted around her waist, taut enough that the book in her grip threatened to topple the moment she tried to steady it. "Don’t let go," he snarled, before his lips crashed against hers, teeth grinding with the force of his thrusts between her legs. The ladder groaned under their weight, swaying slightly—but neither of them cared. Ananya’s fingers curled against the dusty spines, her other hand clutching at Vikram’s arm as he impaled her in one rough motion, lifting her just enough off the ground to let her take every inch. "Yes," she gasped against his mouth, her voice swallowed whole as he slammed her back down onto the thin shelf with a brutal force that rattled the stacks. The books shuddered, and the scent of old paper filled her lungs, making her dizzy—just another way to lose herself in him. "Harder."

Vikram’s ring was gone, replaced by the blunt pressure of his knuckles as he dragged her thighs apart, the calloused pads scraping against the slick folds of her cunt until she was forced to grind her hips against his palm, seeking the friction. *"Look at you,"* he grunted, his voice raw as he pulled her toward the edge of the shelf. The precarious balance made her spread wider, her ass hovering just above the ledge, the weight of the books pressing into her spine like a warning. *"Tight just from being stuck like this. I could fuck you on the shelf and leave you there, dripping for hours, wouldn’t I?"* His fingers curled inside her, the knuckles dragging against her walls, stretching her further with each rough thrust. The bookshelf vibrated beneath her, the ladder creaking in protest, but neither of them hesitated—not when her body was already betraying her, clenching around his invasion with a desperate whine. *"Beg me to stop,"* he demanded, his other hand shoving her shirt up, nails raking down her bare back before gripping her breast through the thin fabric. *"See if I give a damn."* He yanked her bra aside, thumb rolling over her hard nipple fast enough to make her teeth snap together. *"Or just let me hear it—how loud I make you take it. How many of these shelves I can have you shaking under."* The ladder groaned again, but this time, his free hand seized the back rungs, bracing her as he pulled her down hard onto his cock, lifting her until only the tip remained inside before plunging her back down. The force of each snap made the book in her grip threaten to slide, but she didn’t let go—not even when the first wave of pleasure hit, her cunt spasming around him. *"Good girl,"* he hissed, teeth grazing her collarbone as he *split* her open, the angle forcing it deeper than before. *"Now scream."*

Ananya’s lips parted, her nails biting into his bicep as he hit that brutal new angle. *"You’re—fuck—fucking like you own me."* "Exactly." His breath was hot against her ear, teeth scraping her lobe. *"Because I do."* His hand slid between her shoulder blades, pressing her down into the shelves, the books wobbling precariously. *"This shelf isn’t big enough. Maybe I’ll rip it down instead. Spread you out across the damn library floor."* She whimpered, her back arching, her cunt already aching from the stretch. *"Do it. Use me—anywhere—just don’t stop."* His laugh was dark, his hips snapping against hers with a wet, slick sound. *"That’s the tone I like."* He twisted his fingers inside her, the knuckles scraping her g-spot as he pulled back just enough to let gravity hang her there, her inner walls clenching around nothing but air. *"But you’re still not begging. Not *screaming*."* The threat in his voice made her thighs tremble. *"P-please—fuck me harder—"* "Better," he growled, shoving her skirt up again, his other hand yanking her thong to the side. The cold press of wood against her ass was nothing to the heat of his cock ramming into her, the bluntness of his thrusts making her legs buckle. *"One more time."* She gasped, *"Yes—*fuck*—*God, yes*—don’t—"* Too late. His grip tightened on her hair, fingers twisting at the base of her skull as he hauled her upward, her throat exposed for him. The ladder barely bore her weight as he *thrust* upward, splitting her wide, his thumb circling over the swollen, abused flesh of her clit. *"Now *scream* for it."* His teeth sank into her shoulder, the pain sharp enough to tear through the haze of ecstasy already threatening to drown her. *"I want to see if your voice carries."*

The bite on her shoulder burned as his teeth dragged lower, tongue tracing the reddened line before sucking hard—enough to leave a mark. *"Such a good girl, taking this."* His fingers left her clit, only to pinch the sensitive flesh between her tits, dragging it down as a warning. *"Now you’re gonna know what it’s like to be* ***my*** *girl."* He tore his cock out of her, the sudden absence leaving her empty and gasping. The bookshelf held her just long enough for her to brace, before he spun her around without care, the ladder splintering against her thighs. *"Grab the back."* His voice was gritty, teeth bared as he pressed her forward, her back exposed, her ass still slick with cunt. Ananya’s fingers shook as they curled around the wood. *"N-no—"* *"Yes."* His hand cracked across her ass, the sharp sting making her flinch as he lined his cock up against her tight, untouched rim. *"You want it? You want me to split this virgin hole while you’re still straddling my dick in yours?"* His hips flexed once, twice, the heavy crown forcing its way through her clenched muscles. *"Fuck, you’re tight."* He paused, fingers digging into her waist, not enough to bruise—just enough to anchor her as he pushed. *"But you’re gonna* ***open*** *for me."* The first inch burned like fire, her body resisting with a gut-wrenching squeeze. *"It’s—too—*fuck*——"* His fingers twisted in her hair, yanking her back slightly to expose her throat. *"Relax."* The command was a snarl as he pressed deeper, the stretch agonizing, her whimpers drowning in the force of his thrusts. *"That’s it."* Her ass screamed as he bottomed out, the brutal intrusion making her vision swim—until he pulled back, slow enough to drag the thick veins of his cock against her walls. *"First time’s always the worst."* The second thrust was harder, filling her completely. *"You’ll learn to* ***take*** *it."* Her back arched, nails clawing at the wood. *"It’s—too much—"* *"Not enough."* His thumb rolled over her clit before he forced her back down onto his cock, both holes full at once. *"Now* ***fuck*** *me."*

Ananya’s body betrayed her with a violent shudder as his cock drove into her ass again, each thrust dragging deeper. *"Fuck—no—*fuck**, I can’t—"* Her voice cracked, the words lost in a sob as he *spread her* wide—his fingers still twisted in her hair, forcing her back onto him with every brutal pump of his hips. The burn was already fading into something worse: the *stretch*, the way he filled her so completely it felt obscene. *"You said you’d* ***take*** *it."* His teeth grazed her spine as he fucked her forward, his balls slapping against her clit with each snap of his hips. *"That’s the deal now, isn’t it? My cock in your mouth, your cunt, and this* ***untouched*** *virgin ass."* Her breath came in ragged bursts, the air trapped in her lungs as he *pounded* her with a relentless rhythm. *"Yes—fuck, *yes*—"* The first whimper of real pleasure slipped past her lips as he adjusted his grip, fingers digging into the fleshy underside of her thighs where they met her ass. It was the angle that broke her—the way he held her, the way he *used* her, his own weight pressing her into the bookshelf with every ruthless thrust. *"Good."* His palm cracked across her ass again, the sting forgotten as the next thrust split her even wider, the slick slide of his cock dragging against her stretched walls. *"You’re gonna be* ***broken*** *again. Screaming."* His free hand circled her throat, not tight enough to stop her breath—just enough to guide her back down onto his cock when she pulled away. *"Again."*