Page 20 of The Library

My mouth goes dry, and my pulse is racing uncontrollably. I step back, trying to regain some control, but I’m a mess. “I need to… clean this up,” I stammer, the words tumbling out before I even know what I’m saying.

His eyes don’t leave mine, the heat between us crackling like electricity. “Bathroom’s this way,” he says, his voice rough with desire, and there’s an unspoken promise in it that sends another wave of heat crashing through me. He grabs my elbow and starts toward the hallway, and I follow, my body moving without thought, like I’m under his spell.

The bathroom feels too small, too intimate. The sound of the party fades into the background as the door closes behind us, leaving just the two of us, the air between us thick with tension. I look at myself in the mirror—my face and chest smeared with blood, my dress clinging to my curves, and the flush on my skin that tells me everything I’m trying to deny.

God, I’m soaked. I can feel the slickness between my thighs, the aching need building inside me, and it’s all because of him. Because of the way he’s looking at me like I’m his prey, like he’s just waiting to pounce.

I look up in the mirror, and I meet his gaze in the reflection. His eyes are burning with desire, dark and dangerous, and the way he’s looking at me sends a jolt of heat straight to my core.

“You have no idea how badly I want you right now,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that reverberates through me. He steps closer, his fingers brushing against the side of my neck, and I gasp at the intensity of the contact. It’s barely a touch, but it feels like a brand, like he’s marking me as his.

His hand trails down my neck, his fingers grazing my collarbone before they dip lower, just teasing the edge of my dress. I’m trembling, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I try to hold on to some semblance of control, but it’s slipping. It’s slipping fast, and I don’t know if I want to stop it.

“Covered in blood… so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his lips hovering just above my skin. His breath is warm against me, and the way he says it, like he wants to taste me, makes my knees weak.

I gulp, my body shaking with need. I’ve never felt like this before—so completely out of control, so overwhelmed by desire. “I don’t even know your full name,” I manage to whisper, my voice trembling as I look up at him through the mirror.

His lips curl into a dark, knowing smile, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Sebastian Ashford,” he says, the name rolling off his tongue like a promise.

The sound of his name sends a wave of heat crashing through me, and before I can stop myself, I lean into his touch, craving more of him—more of this. His hand moves lower, tracing the curve of my breast through the fabric of my dress, and I can feel the ache between my legs grow unbearable.

I need him. God, I need him like I’ve never needed anything before.

He steps closer, his body pressing against mine, and I can feel the hardness of him against my back. It sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my pussy, and I bite my lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. His hand slips down, his fingers grazing the hem of my dress, teasing me, and I’m trembling with anticipation, with need.

“I can’t…” I whisper, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and desire. “I shouldn’t…”

He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear, and I feel like I’m about to come undone. “But you want to,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “I can feel it. I can see it.”

My body is on fire, my mind spinning with the weight of his words, and I know he’s right. I do want this. I want him.

“Sebastian…” I whisper.

And right now, nothing else matters.

Sebastian

The moment she says my name, something primal snaps inside me. Hearing it fall from her lips—soft, breathless, like a plea—ignites a fire I’ve barely been holding back. I’ve been patient, more patient than I thought possible, but the way she looks at me, her lips trembling, her body practically begging for my touch, I know I can’t hold back much longer.

Her dress clings to her body, the fake blood dripping down her chest, accentuating every curve I want to claim. She’s a vision of raw temptation—dark, dangerous, and entirely unaware of the power she holds over me. But that’s the thing—she doesn’t hold power over me. I hold it over her.

The air between us feels thick, charged with something electric, and I see the way her body responds to me. Her breath quickens, her eyes wide with a mix of desire and fear. She’s pretending to resist, but her body tells me everything I need to know. She wants this. She wants me.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” I whisper, my voice low, rough with the control I’m barely hanging onto. My hand moves to her waist, my fingers pressing into her soft skin through the fabric of her dress. I want to rip it off her, see every inch of her laid bare, but I hold back, savoring the tension, the anticipation.

She shivers under my touch, her body leaning into me despite herself. I can feel the heat radiating off her, the pulse ofher heart pounding in time with my own. Her lips part, like she wants to say something, but no words come. Just a soft gasp as I let my thumb trail up, brushing the edge of her breast, teasing her.

“Sebastian…” she whispers, and fuck, the way she says my name—it’s like a drug.

I lean in closer, my lips hovering just over her ear. “I’ve been watching you, Lilith. I’ve been waiting for this.” I growl, my breath hot against her skin.

She trembles beneath me, and I can see the way her chest rises and falls, her breath shallow. Her eyes flutter closed as my fingers move lower, tracing the curve of her waist, down to the hem of her dress. I want to push her, to see how far she’ll let me take her. How much she’ll beg before she realizes she’s already given in.

But I’m not going to fuck her. Not yet.

I smirk, leaning back just enough to watch her face as she opens her eyes, those dark, desperate eyes that are silently pleading for more. “You want this, don’t you?” I ask, my voice low and dangerous. “You want me.”

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