Silence started as an entry for #WickedWednesday. Click here to read Chapter One.

Taking his time, Jonathan reached out with one hand and ran his fingers down Alice’s back. It was barely more than a hint of contact, hardly enough to even be felt, yet as her shirt rippled beneath his fingertips he enjoyed the sight of her body tensing while edging his way down towards her neat, black skirt.

In the reflection of the window opposite, Jonathan watched Alice’s expression change and shift from calm control to nervous excitement. He wondered whether she would be able to stay quiet. If it would be better to withdraw and leave her, wanting but unable to abide by his rules. It would be risky to continue if she couldn’t contain herself and yet, after he considered his options, he decided to continue anyway. There was no fun in giving up so easily, he decided, and the game had only just begun.

Taking one small step, he moved until their bodies touched. She held her breath while his thumb gently rubbed her arse in soothing circles. She did not flinch when he pinched her, barely twitched when his hand slipped lower, searching for the edge of her skirt, and barely moved when he hooked his fingers beneath, pulling the hem of her skirt sharply upwards.

Her sense of control was impressive and he admired her determination not to look his way, but he knew that calm exterior might break at any moment. To test this theory, Jonathan pushed his hand lower, reaching between her legs and touching the inside of Alice’s thigh with his long, strong fingers. She took a great, hitching gasp of air, screwing one hand into a fist while his own found the edge of her underwear, and pushed his way along the line marking skin from material. Recognising the feeling of lace beneath his fingertips, he paused and savoured the moment, then tightened his grip, clasping her cunt in his hand.

She buckled almost instantly, throwing her arms out and gripping the shelves on either side to steady herself. It was exactly the reaction he’d wanted and before she could compose herself again, Jonathan began nudging his fingers back and forth, grinding the lace against Alice’s pussy until he felt the warmth and wetness of her body soaking through.

“Total – Silence,” he reminded her, speaking in the hushed tones of one used to making himself quietly, but firmly, understood.

While she stood there, tense and trembling, he began working faster, applying more pressure between each stroke. Alice let out a soft sigh, barely louder than the turning of a page but unmistakable in its pleasure, and ground down against him, matching the steady rhythm of his strokes with the roll of her hips until, within seconds, she was breathing heavily, biting her lip and pushing against the shelves to control her desperate urge to moan.

But this is just the start, he smiled, and on the next rear stroke, Jonathan pushed his fingers beneath her underwear, dragging them along the front of her cunt. He felt her pulse, her wetness coated his fingers and the smell of her lust mingled with the rich aroma of ancient text lining dusty shelves. The combination was intoxicating, he couldn’t resist, and slid his finger inside, spreading her lips and holding himself there while she shuddered and shook around him.

How far could he go before she drew the attention of people nearby? Alice might have forgotten about them, might have pushed them to the back of her mind while she let him finger her deeply, but he was aware of each and every one. Just a few feet away people were milling around, holding hushed conversations and browsing through trashy paperbacks while he stood here, fingers buried inside her, savouring each delicious drop of Alice’s wet, horny cunt.