The Librarian – Steamy Shorts Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)

I’ve been obsessed with Jenna since the moment I laid eyes on her.I don’t think she notices me, which is fine because I’m nothing but a librarian with the looks of a lumberjack. Someone as perfect as her doesn’t deserve someone like me.But…My obsession with her has already taken root, shocking me down to the marrow of my bones, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing but stare at her from afar, flooded by visions of her writhing as I’m pumping her full with my seed, binding her to me.So when she comes to the library after a party looking for me…all thoughts fly out the window. All sensible, logical thoughts. Who cares? I’ll be a fool if I waste this one shot with her.And now that I’ve gotten a taste…Let’s just say…it’s easier to gnaw off a limb than let her go. She’s f*cking mine. Anyone who disagrees can go straight to hell.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



My hand immediately goes to the bulge in my pants the moment I spot her, desperate for the swelling to go down. Not here. Fuck. Please not now.

But I know there’s nothing much I can do. My body goes haywire when she’s around.

And there she is. Sitting on her usual seat with three books spread out before her, her pink unicorn pencil tucked on the side of her mouth.

Her chestnut brown hair is tied in a messy bun, tendrils of it framing her small face. As always, she wears no makeup, and even all the way from here, I can see the tiny mole on the bridge of her nose.

Her blue eyes dart from one page to another, her forehead creasing in concentration. When she’s in this mood, she barely notices the other students, occasional hushed conversations, or the creaking of wooden chairs.

Now someone hovers in front of her, and she looks up, her full lips lifting at the corners.

My heart stops and I forget how to breathe.

Jesus Christ. Jenna Shepherd is a vision. Her beauty rips the soul clean off my body every single time I lay my eyes on her. The first time, I thought for sure the floor disappeared from underneath me. The second and third time, it was the same thing.

It’s been weeks since my obsession with her has taken root, and I can’t shake it off. I’m not sure I even want to. Something draws me to her, and I don’t know how I managed to live the past three decades without seeing a glimpse of her. Without breathing the same air as her.

The sturdy oak desk at the center of the library is my favorite spot because I get an unobstructed view of her perfection. Whenever she’s around, I pretend to be busy but I’m hyperaware of where she is at all times, what she’s doing, and who she’s with.

There’s this guy who follows her around but clearly isn’t here to read or study, and I resist the strong urge to make him swallow his own teeth, rage flowing through me like lava.

Am I worried she’ll notice? I doubt that. Someone like Jenna will never look at someone like me unless she has no choice.

After all, I am the librarian. She has to talk to me if she needs help. And she almost always does.

I’m grateful she finds me worthy to be spoken to, but sometimes, her questions go over my head because I can’t help but stare at her, unable to believe someone like her exists.

She waves to the other girl and stands, one palm resting on the table. After nodding to her, Jenna tucks a stray hair behind her ear and ambles to me, her pink flower dress hugging her curves, hips swaying slightly.

I stiffen and sit straighter, trying to remember how to breathe, a flush of adrenaline pumping through me.

“Uhm, hi.”

I clutch the book on my desk and struggle to maintain control as I lift my head and find Jenna smiling softly, her dimples peeking. She chews on her bottom lip and slowly drags her tongue along it.

Oh hell.

My blood rushes south, and I slide the seat further under the desk, trying to hide the tent in my pants. How fucking embarrassing if she sees. And it might scare her away from me.

Can’t have that now, can we?

“Yes?” My voice comes out gruffer than usual, and I clear my throat. “Can I help you?”

A flush creeps along her cheeks, and she giggles. “Yes. I’m looking for The Social Construction of Reality. Can’t seem to find it.”

“Okay, sure. Give me a sec.”

I input the book’s title and try to get a hold of myself because my brain cells seem to have died, and I have to delete and re-type because of all the typos. Fuck me, I’m acting like an idiot. Like a lovestruck schoolboy.

Normally, I’d write the aisle and number and send her on her merry way. But this is Jenna. The woman of my dreams. The one I jack off to day in and day out, sometimes multiple times a day. The voice I hear in my head before I go to sleep. The one I want to marry. The one I want to bear my children. Just the thought of her flat stomach stretched taut with my seed growing inside her. Jesus. It drives me insane.

So I stand up to my full height, easily towering over her small 5’2” frame. Well aware of my erection, I pull my shirt lower and turn my back on her. “Follow me.”

Adjusting my horn-rimmed glasses, we walk towards the section for textbooks, just a few steps away from the desk. She could’ve easily found it on her own, but of course, I wouldn’t let her. These moments are all I have.

The smell of books fills my nostrils, and I welcome the distraction because my skin tingles at how close she is.