Page 30 of The Library

As I walk out of the café, my phone buzzes in my hand. It’s a message from him.

Sebastian:8pm. Don’t be late.

I barely have time to process it before another message follows.

Sebastian:I’ll be waiting.

The simplicity of the words sends a chill down my spine. He’s always one step ahead, always in control.

A chill runs down my spine as I stare at the words, my pulse quickening with a mixture of fear and excitement.

Tonight.

Sebastian

The vibration of my phone pulls me from the darkness of my thoughts. I glance down, the screen lighting up with her name.

Lilith:We need to talk.

Simple words, but they carry the weight of something more—something inevitable. I knew this moment was coming, but still, seeing the words spelled out before me stirs something primal deep inside. The anticipation, the tension, it’s all reaching a tipping point.

I stare at my phone for a long moment, the screen glowing in the dim light of my room. The room is quiet—too quiet. It’s the kind of silence that makes everything feel amplified, like every breath is louder, every heartbeat more pronounced. I can feel the pulse of my own blood in my veins, the slow build of desire creeping up inside me.

I knew she’d reach out eventually. After last night, after Derek, after the way her body responded to mine, there’s no way she could ignore the pull between us. But still, I wonder if she understands the full weight of what’s happening. Does she know what she’s gotten herself into? Does she realize that once she walks through my door tonight, she’ll be mine completely?

I’ve always had control, always been the one calling the shots. I’ve spent my life mastering the art of patience, of manipulation. But with Lilith, that control feels fragile. She stirs somethinginside me that’s darker, deeper than anything I’ve felt before. She makes me want to break my own rules, to lose myself in the chaos of her.

But I won’t. Not yet.

I lean back in my seat, a slow smile creeping across my lips. She’s ready. Maybe not consciously, but on some level, she understands what’s happening. The danger, the thrill—it’s pulling her in, just like I knew it would.

I reply quickly, but not too eagerly.

Where?

There’s a pause. I can almost imagine her sitting there, staring at her phone, debating what to say. She’s probably still confused, torn between the fear of what she suspects and the undeniable pull she feels toward me. She’s smart enough to know something’s wrong, but not smart enough to stay away. Not that she could, even if she wanted to.

The next message comes through a moment later.

Lilith:Your place.

I stare at the words for a moment, savoring them. She’s coming to me. No distractions, no safety net of friends, just her. Alone.

Perfect.

I don’t reply right away. Let her sit with anticipation, let her wonder if I’ll even respond. I want her to feel that tension building, the uncertainty of what will happen when we’re finally face-to-face again. But I can’t help the excitement buzzing under my skin, knowing she’s finally taking this step.

After a minute, I type back, sending her my address.

8 PM. Don’t be late.

I can practically feel her nerves through the phone. She knows this isn’t a casual conversation. She knows that whatever happens tonight will change everything. I’ve waited for this, planned for it, and now it’s falling into place.

I stand up, running a hand through my hair, anticipation surging through me. There’s no going back from this. Once she steps into my place, once she’s in my space, she’s mine. She’ll realize that, one way or another. I take a slow, deep breath, feeling the tension coil tighter in my chest as I type out my reply.

I’ll be waiting.

Simple. Direct. But loaded with the promise of everything that’s to come.

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