The library was quiet, filled with the soft scratch of pens and the occasional cough. Keanu sat slouched in his chair, hockey hoodie pulled tight, textbook open but untouched.

“You keep staring like that, Dallas, and she’s gonna call campus security,” one of his teammates muttered, elbowing him.

The other snorted. “Yeah, dude. Obsession looks good on the ice, not in the library. You look like you’re planning her murder.”

Keanu blinked, tearing his gaze away from the girl across the room. He rolled his pen between his fingers, jaw flexing. “I’m not staring.”

They both laughed under their breath. “You’ve been locked on her for ten minutes, man. You blinked twice. That’s serial killer behavior.”

Keanu’s lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “Maybe I’m just focused. Something you two wouldn’t know about.”

“Focused?” one of them snickered. “On her ass, maybe.”

That pulled a low laugh from him, but it didn’t last. His eyes betrayed him, sliding back to the girl. Her lips moved faintly as she whispered the words she was reading. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Ordinary movements, nothing special. Yet his chest tightened, heat pooling low in his stomach.

He wanted her. Not just wanted—needed.

The thought hit him like a sucker punch. His teammates kept talking, but it was background noise.

“...you’re gonna creep her out if you keep this up,” one of them said, more serious now.

Keanu smirked, leaning back in his chair, masking the way his pulse raced. “You think she’d be creeped out? Or you think she’d like knowing someone’s thinking about her that much?”

The two guys went quiet, trading a look. Then they burst into muffled laughter, shoving his shoulder.

“Jesus, Dallas. That’s dark.”

“More like dirty.”

Keanu only shrugged, eyes still locked across the room.

And then the fantasy swallowed him whole.

He pictured her sitting where she was now, but instead of books on her desk, it was him — his body pressing her down, her hands clutching at his hoodie. He imagined her bent over the library table, his hand fisted in her hair, his hips slamming into hers hard enough to make the wood creak.

His breath hitched. He wanted to hear her break apart under him, voice wrecked from screaming his name. He wanted her to claw at him, bruise him, need him until there was nothing left of her composure.

But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough in his head.

Because he didn’t just want to fuck her. He wanted to crawl inside her skin, take her apart piece by piece until she couldn’t remember life without him. He wanted to mark her in ways that didn’t fade — teeth, bruises, scratches — proof that she belonged to him.

Filthy. Nasty. Disgusting.

And his cock twitched at the thought.

Keanu smiled, slow and private, his pen tapping once against the table. His friends were still laughing at their own jokes, but he wasn’t listening.

And then the sound of heavy knocking echoed against her door.

The click of the door had barely faded before Keanu closed the distance. His body was all heat and tension, his gray eyes dragging over her slowly, hungrily. Step by step, he backed her toward the wall until she had nowhere else to go.

“God...” he breathed, head tilting, a crooked smile curling his lips. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, do you?”

His hand came up, brushing the wall beside her head as he leaned in close. His mouth hovered near her ear, voice dropping to a low rasp that sent shivers down her spine.

“At that library... baby, I wanted to feel that fucking skirt hit my fingers, feel how wet you’d get just for me,” he whispered, the words spilling like sin. He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Fuck, I couldn’t even breathe looking at you. All I could think was how good you’d sound moaning into my mouth.”

He finally let his hand trail down her side, thumb grazing her hip. His lips hovered over her jawline, close enough to feel his breath but not close enough to touch.

“Ooh, baby...” he whispered, almost groaning. “To feel that fucking body arching under me? To hear you begging for it? Fuck, I can’t wait.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her face, eyes burning, lips parted in a dangerous grin.

“I’ll ruin you sweet,” Keanu murmured, tilting his head like he was savoring the image. “Slow, deep, until every time you close your eyes you’ll feel me. That’s what you do to me. That’s what I need from you.”

Keanu’s chest rose and fell hard as he pressed closer, his body practically caging hers against the wall. His hand slid down her waist, fingers curling at her hip like he couldn’t let go even if he tried.

His mouth hovered just above hers, his breath warm, his voice low and trembling with need.

“Please...” he whispered, the word breaking like a prayer. His forehead brushed hers, his lips close enough that the heat of them ghosted over her own.

“Please, baby... let me give it to you.”