Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

R uby

The library stands tall, golden sunlight streaming through the newly polished windows, casting a warm glow across the freshly finished wood. Every nail, every beam, every inch of the place is imbued with a sense of accomplishment that pulls at my chest. It feels surreal—like I should still be waiting for something to go wrong, something to mess it all up. But nothing does. The silence around me is peaceful, the crisp mountain air mingling with the smell of freshly cut wood. It's done. We built this.

Pope stands beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat of his body, that quiet strength radiating off him like always. I glance at him, and for once, there's no gruffness, no walls. Just him, raw and open, staring at the library like it means something beyond bricks and wood. Maybe because it does. It's more than just a building—it's a symbol of everything we've been through, everything we've fought to make happen. Us.

I take a breath, my fingers running along the smooth edge of the newly painted door, feeling the cool metal of the handle. This moment, this place—it's everything. "This place… it's everything we dreamed of," I whisper to myself, though I know it's not just the library I'm talking about.

Pope catches my eye, and I can see that flicker of pride in him, that softness that he doesn't show to anyone else. Only me. And it makes my heart race. I didn't think we'd get here—not with the library, not with everything between us. But here we are. We did it.

"I can't believe we're finished," I admit quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers trail across the door's handle, feeling the weight of it, the cool metal against my skin grounding me.

Pope's presence shifts beside me, and I can feel him looking at me, that intense gaze of his making my pulse quicken. "You're the reason we got here, Ruby," he says, his voice rough, like it's hard for him to say it, but there's no hesitation in the emotion behind it. "This place—it's just wood and nails without you. You're the one who kept it all together. Kept me together."

His words hit me harder than I expected. For so long, I've felt like the one holding back, the one afraid to fully commit. And now, hearing Pope say this—hearing him admit how much I mean to him—it almost knocks the air out of me. I never thought I could be the one to break through his walls. I never imagined I'd be the one who made him feel whole again.

"You broke me in the best ways," Pope continues, his hand sliding over mine, the warmth of his touch steadying me. "I didn't even know I was waiting for someone like you. I was just… surviving. And now? Now I feel like I'm actually living. And it's because of you."

I swallow hard, my throat tightening with emotion as I meet his gaze. I thought I couldn't trust anyone, that I wasn't capable of love anymore. But Pope… he changed that. "I thought I was broken," I admit, my voice trembling slightly. "I thought I wasn't capable of trusting anyone again. But you… you proved me wrong."

The moment feels suspended, like time has slowed down just for us. The air is thick with emotion, the weight of everything we've been through pressing in. I take a deep breath, my fingers tightening around his. "I love you," I say, the words finally spilling out, raw and unfiltered. "I didn't realize it at first, but I do. And I'm not afraid to say it anymore."

Pope's expression softens, his eyes darkening with that emotion he doesn't often show. He pulls me into his arms, holding me close, the warmth of his body against mine making everything feel… right. "I love you too, Ruby," he murmurs into my hair. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Leaning into him, feeling his arms wrapped around me, I've never felt this kind of peace before—this kind of certainty. For the first time in a long time, I'm not running. I'm not afraid. I close my eyes, breathing him in, the familiar scent of sawdust and wood that clings to him like a second skin. It's comforting, reassuring. Pope has always been steady, even when I was scared to trust him. And now? Now I know he's where I belong.

As I pull back slightly, I glance at the library again, this time seeing it for what it really is—a symbol of everything we've built together. "This library… it's more than just a project," I say softly, my voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling inside me. "It's us. All the hard work, the struggles, the moments when I wasn't sure if we'd make it… it's all here. It's a reminder that we can do anything."

Pope follows my gaze, his hand still resting on the small of my back. "Yeah," he says, his voice a low rumble, filled with that quiet confidence I've grown to love. "It's solid. Just like us."

The words hit me with a deep sense of comfort. Solid. That's what I've been searching for all this time—something real, something that lasts. I turn to Pope, my heart swelling with love, with hope. "I don't want to run anymore," I say quietly, the words tumbling out like a confession. "I'm done running. I want this. I want us."

His lips curve into a small smile, his eyes softening as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "You're not running," he murmurs against my skin. "You're home."

Tilting my head up, I capture his lips in a kiss that's slow and tender, filled with all the things we've been through. It's not rushed or desperate—it's a kiss that speaks of trust, of a connection that goes deeper than anything physical. Pope's hands slide down to my waist, pulling me closer as if to remind me that I'm his, and he's mine.

The warmth of his body against mine, the strength in his touch—it's everything I've ever wanted but was too afraid to admit. Now, standing here in front of the library we built together, I know without a doubt that this is where I belong. This is home.

We step into the library, walking to the newly built circulation desk that's built into the farthest corner. He presses me against the edge of the polished wood and our lips press together in a demanding kiss. My pussy aches with a deep, throbbing need, my nipples hard and sensitive under my dress. His icy blue eyes have darkened to navy, pupils dilated as they slowly take in every inch of me. Normally, I'd be offended by a look like that from any man—objectified—but with him, it only ignites something primal inside me. I'm desperate for him, more than I've ever wanted anyone.

My lips part, and I suck in a breath, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as my eyes widen. The heat between us is unbearable, so I unbutton my dress and let it fall to the floor, watching his gaze drop to my breasts. The black lace of my bra barely covers my breasts, which are swollen with desire, flushed for him. I twist my arms behind my back and unhook the clasp, feeling his eyes burning into me the entire time. I don't break eye contact as I let the straps fall and drop the bra to the floor.

Instinctively, I cover my breasts with my arm, standing there, exposed, vulnerable, but on fire for him.

"Move your arm. Let me see you."

My gaze flickers down to where his hand is palming the massive erection straining against his jeans. The sight alone makes wetness flood between my thighs, and I reach for the strap of my panties to push them down my thighs. But before I can get them off, one of his rough hands molds around my breast, his fingers expertly tweaking my nipple. A gasp escapes me as he massages, presses, and teases, his hands everywhere at once, pushing my sensitive breasts together, creating a line of cleavage that he can't seem to resist. His lips dive between them, trying to take in both nipples at once, his tongue swirling and teeth nipping just enough to make me gasp.

"Could stare at your tits all fucking day, precious," he growls, his voice dripping with lust as his thumbs flick hard over my nipples, making me whimper. "Panties. Off. Now."

My body responds before I can think. My panties hit the floor in seconds, kicked to the side, and I stand there in nothing but the heat of his gaze. He pulls his flannel off, and the sight of his bare chest makes my breath catch. He's all muscle, hard and lean, every inch of him a temptation I can't resist.

His eyebrow quirks up, interest sparking in his eyes.

I smile, unable to speak, my throat tight with anticipation. My brain is fogged, lost in lust, my body aching to be touched.

"You should get on your knees," he commands, his voice rough and deep.

I drop to the floor without hesitation, looking up just as he unzips his jeans and frees his thick, pulsing cock. My mouth waters, and I can hardly breathe as he wraps his hand around the base, the other weaving into my hair and guiding my head closer.

"Take me," he orders, and I don't waste a second.

I trail my tongue up his length, feeling the heat of him before taking him into my mouth. His hand tightens in my hair as I take him deeper, my throat stretching to accommodate him. He growls, his hips rocking forward as I swirl my tongue, trying to take all of him. His cock throbs against my tongue, the taste of him making me moan. I look up, seeing the strain in his neck, his muscles tight as his abs flex in perfect, rigid lines.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he groans, his voice rough with need. "You like having my cock in your mouth, don't you?"

I moan around him, my fingers trailing down my body, desperate for relief, but before I can touch myself, he yanks my head back.

"Don't touch yourself," he growls, eyes dark and intense. "I own all your orgasms now."

His grip tightens in my hair, and he thrusts into my mouth again, setting the pace, controlling every movement as I suck and swallow him down. My pussy drips with arousal, need clawing at me. I've never been so turned on, so desperate to have him inside me, and the way he commands me only pushes me further. I'm lost in him, in the way he takes control, unapologetic and unyielding.

When he finally pulls me off his cock, I'm gasping for breath, my lips swollen and slick. He stands me up, yanking me to my feet before lifting me effortlessly and planting me on the circulation desk. My back hits the cool surface as he steps between my legs. His cock stands thick and heavy, and I can't take my eyes off him.

"You want me inside of you?" His voice is a teasing growl, his hand stroking his length as he watches me.

"Yes," I breathe, my voice shaking with need. I can't even look him in the eyes, too mesmerized by the sight of him.

"Not yet," he says, grinning wickedly. He spreads my thighs wider, his gaze hungry as he takes in the sight of me, exposed and ready for him. His head dips between my legs, and I nearly scream when his tongue presses against me, licking and swirling, teasing me with the promise of more. He eats at me, his fingers slipping inside, filling me as his mouth pulls at my clit. My body arches, desperate for release, but he keeps me on edge, his tongue flicking and teasing, keeping me just on the brink.

"Don't come," he growls, thrusting his fingers deeper inside me, pulling against my walls.

I'm shaking, my entire body trembling as he pushes me further and further, and I'm losing control. I want him, need him, more than I've ever needed anything.

"Longer you hold it, the better it'll be," he says, his voice a low rumble as he pulls his fingers out and presses the head of his cock against me. "Wait for me."

And then, he thrusts deep inside me, filling me completely. I scream his name as he sinks fully into me, owning every inch of my body. My orgasm hits me hard and fast, crashing through me like a tidal wave, and he doesn't stop, doesn't slow. He pulls me up, carrying me to the loveseat in the new reading nook, where he bends me over the armrest, his cock still buried deep inside me.

"Ass in the air, precious," he growls, slapping my cheek as he drives into me harder, rougher, until I'm nothing but a quivering mess beneath him.

I've never felt anything like this. He's taking me apart, piece by piece, and I'm loving every second of it. He grips my hips, slowing his pace before his thighs begin to tremor and his breathing grows ragged. "I'm gonna come, baby."

And for the next thirty seconds we hand suspended by our need, thick jets of his come filling me and urging my own orgasm to break through. My pants come out heavy, my veins alive with arousal. Once he's finished, he pulls out of me slowly and spins me in his arms, wrapping me in a deep kiss.

As the kiss ends, I rest my forehead against Pope's, my heart full and steady. We stand there, together, looking at the library we've worked so hard on. But it's more than just a building—it's a symbol of everything we've built together. Our relationship, our love, our future.

"Ready to open this place up for everyone else to enjoy?" Pope asks, his voice filled with warmth.

I smile, feeling lighter than I have in years. "Yeah," I say, squeezing his hand. "I'm ready."

And as we walk toward the doors a few minutes later, hand in hand, I know that this—Pope, the library, our love—is built to last.