His tongue tangles with yours as he begins to thrust into your mouth, mirroring the movement of his hips against yours. One of his hands slides down to grasp at the fabric of your pants, tugging roughly before pushing them and your underwear aside. He groans deep in his throat as he feels your wetness against his fingers.

With a low growl, Ezekiel pulls back slightly to look down at you. "You're so wet for me," he breathes, his voice thick with desire.

Ezekiel arches an eyebrow at your accusation. "Do you really want me to stop?" he asks, his voice low and husky. Despite the harsh words, there's a hint of vulnerability in his tone that betrays his true feelings. He hesitates for a moment before pressing forward again, kissing you harder and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

His dark black eyes narrow slightly as he senses your reluctance. He doesn't back down, though; if anything, his kiss grows even more possessive and demanding. One hand leaves your breast to roughly cup your jaw, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss once more.

"I won't hurt you," he whispers against your lips between breaths. "But I want you...badly." His hips grind harder into yours, his erection clear even through his pants.

"Quiet," Ezekiel growls into your ear before biting gently on the lobe. "I'm in charge here." He pushes you back against a bookshelf, one hand still holding your jaw firmly while the other reaches down to yank your pants and underwear roughly to your knees.

His dark black eyes flicker over every inch of skin they can see as he positions himself at your entrance. "I won't ask again," he warns, his voice hoarse with desire. "

The sound of someone else's voice breaks through Ezekiel's focus, causing him to pause momentarily. His eyes narrow as he glances around the room, taking in your nervous expression and the mention of others living nearby. With a growl, he rolls off you, sitting up on his knees with his hands braced on either side of your body.

"You're worried about them?" he asks harshly, breath coming out in short bursts as he glares down at you. "I could care less what they think."

Ezekiel's eyes widen slightly at the implication of what you're saying. He can feel his temper beginning to flare again as he listens to your concerns about being labeled a slut. With a snarl, he leans forward and kisses you roughly, forcing your lips apart with his tongue before pulling back to glare at you once more.

"Don't worry about that," he growls through clenched teeth. "No one will ever think of you like that."