*All characters are 18+. Content includes rape. This is fiction for erotic entertainment only; I do not condone nonconsensual sex.*
***
"Shit, Sarah, what are you doing here? Didn't you get the message?"
If it had been anyone else, she might have been more worried about his quiet yet frenzied voice.
"What did you want, Sam?" She scowled.
He showed her his phone and a campus-wide alarm text: Active shooter alert. Stay off campus.
Oh shit. The blood drained from her face, a chill rushing through her despite the summer sun.
This had to happen on the day she forgot her phone. That's why there was no one around. It was summer break, but there were always a few people, especially in this lovely weather.
"Come on, let's get out of here," he whispered.
He grabbed her arm and she let him lead in quick, hurried steps. She barely registered where they were going.
A loud bang sounded nearby. Too close.
She slapped a hand over her mouth to cut off her scream, her heart suddenly racing.
They ran.
Sarah almost tripped on a loose brick. This part of campus could use a little work, but that wasn't her concern. Especially not right now.
"I got you," whispered Sam. His arms kept her from falling on her face. She nodded her thanks and they kept running across the quad.
The last person she'd thought would rescue her was Sam, the high school asshole jock who she'd managed to go to the same college with. But considering the circumstances, it wasn't so odd.
"We can hide in there!" He pointed at the library. It was the largest building nearby--they could easily lose themselves in the maze of halls and find a room to wait in. They ran up the steps and through the large wooden doors.
Only the lights in the entry hall were on. They dashed down a dimly lit hall and began to try a few doors but most of them were locked.
"In here!" Sam had found an unlocked door and shoved her inside. It turned out to be a small closet with shelves and mops, unlikely to fit both of them. She spun to protest but Same was already stuffing himself inside, pushing her until her back smashed against the clutter. He quietly closed the door, shutting them in the dark.
Sarah tried to make more room. The shelves seemed to be angled so that she could lean back a few inches. Sam stumbled into her, his body falling on hers for a moment before he regained his balance.
There was a quiet thump and he cursed. "There's something over my head. I'm going to lean over you, ok?" He pressed up against her as they panted and tried to be quiet. Both of his hands rested on her shoulders as she clutched his sides. She could feel his breath on her face and his chest rising up and down against her breasts.
Sarah's overactive senses focused on the body between her hands, pinning her against the clutter in this cramped space. She'd always thought Sam was hot. A complete asshole, but he had a great body. He took any opportunity to be shirtless, showing off taut skin over hard, lean muscles. Muscles that she could feel under her hands, moving as he breathed. She kinda wished he was shirtless now. It was so tempting to squeeze. She blushed, glad it was too dark for him to see.
She was fairly proud of her own body. A thin summer dress barely covered decent-sized breasts that weren't too large as to hurt her back. She kept herself fit--no freshman fifteen for this girl. Her make-up was light with only a quick brush of lipstick. Her face didn't need anything more.
Footsteps sounded in the hall.
She inhaled sharply, and Sam's hand flew over her mouth. His whole body was tense and he was holding his breath.
She'd sucked in a lungful of his heady, musky cologne, and his tense hard muscles felt surprisingly good. The threat outside only amplified her reaction. She swallowed, her cheeks burning.
The footsteps faded.
His hand left her face and rested on her shoulder. "You ok?" He whispered.
"Yeah. Thanks." He could probably feel her heart beating way too fast. He started to rub her neck, his firm hands warm and comforting. She was shaking; his hands felt nice.
"We'll be fine. Just stay quiet," he murmured. Then his hips shifted, and she suddenly realized what was prodding her in the stomach--he was hard. She froze.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Stupid horny male bodies, yeah?"
She relaxed again. "Yeah. It's ok." She was reacting the same way, after all.
He let out a breath and leaned into her more, his head next to her ear. "Is this ok? Hard to keep myself propped up."
As he moved, her arms shifted to settle on his back in an awkward hug. He was resting most of his weight on her while she was haphazardly supported by the slightly angled shelves behind her. There was space for her head to lean back, but not much else. He was heavy but it felt comforting, safe.
"Mmhm." She hoped he thought she was tense because she was afraid. She was afraid--and she could feel every muscle through her thin summer dress. His breath next to her ear wasn't helping.
Her own breathing quickened as his intoxicating scent and heavy warmth turned her fear into something else. She swallowed a whimper.
His hands slowly massaged her arms and shoulders, probably trying to relax her. She should tell him to stop, but it felt good. He felt strong and safe and so good. She sighed.
His hands reached to her back and began to work on her there. She arched a little, pressing against his cock. He stiffened, his hands flattening on her lower back.
"Fuck," he mumbled.
"Sorry."
He chuckled, the soft sound tingling down her spine. "Not your fault." His hands went back to gently rubbing circles on her skin. She couldn't help squirming, letting out a soft sigh now and then.
"Am I hurting you?"
"N-no," she groaned. She should really tell him to stop.
Footsteps walked past again. They froze.
After a minute of silence, he sighed. "We should probably stay in here until the all-clear alert."
"That could be hours!"
"Do you want to go out there?"
"No..."
He petted her back, brushing his fingers over her spine. She arched again and bit her lip. Maybe a few hours of this wasn't so bad.
One of his hands stroked up and down her side, over her ribs, her waist, to her hip. It was an intimate caress that was melting her, heating her core. She pressed her hands against the hard muscles of his back and moaned, trying to make it sound like a scared whimper.
Sam's hand suddenly dipped to her thighs, between her legs before she could clamp them closed. Her head started to clear as he squeezed and groped the flesh of her inner thighs.
"Stop that," she whispered urgently, reaching to push him away and bumping into something with a soft thud. She went still.
His low laugh wasn't kind. "Don't move, you might knock something over."
"Get your hand out of there!" she hissed. She'd been letting him touch her all over. She should have told him to stop much earlier.
He shoved her dress up her hips and pressed his fingers against her panties. "I don't think you actually want me to."
She bit back a yelp. She was embarrassingly wet. Soaked. He rubbed her pussy as expertly as he'd massaged the rest of her.
"Please don't," she gasped, forcing herself not to press against his fingers, not to open her legs and beg for more.
He didn't need the encouragement. His fingers slid against her opening through the thin cloth, then up for a gentle rub on her clit. She flinched. He rubbed harder, faster as her breathing became erratic and she tried to squirm away. Definitely away, not against that delicious pressure. She was not going to come in this asshole's fingers.
He shoved her panties aside and ran a finger around the folds of her slick entrance. She tensed. The finger continued to tease her lips, his thumb joining to press light circles around her clit as his finger worked the wet, sensitive flesh of her entrance. She panted as quietly as she could, wanting and hoping and dreading that he would--
A finger slid inside her.
She moaned and clenched the intruding digit as a tear fell from her eyes.
His other hand clamped over her mouth. "Shh. You don't want to make too much noise." Then his dark laughter sent a thrill through her spine.
