Page 41 of The Library

I smirk to myself as I drive, the tension in my body coiling even tighter. There’s a dark satisfaction in knowing how muchcontrol I have over her already. The way she whispered to herself in there, thinking she was alone, thinking no one could hear her… fuck, the things she said. The way she thought about me fucking her right there against those shelves, the way she’s been waking up soaked with need, dreaming of me, craving me. She doesn’t even realize how deeply I’ve embedded myself into her mind.

I am the only god she’ll ever know.

The words roll through my mind, echoing the promise I made to her earlier, and the dark thrill of it sends a shiver of excitement through me. She may think she’s in control of this situation, but the truth is, she’s been mine since the moment I laid eyes on her.

* * *

As I pull up to my house, I glance at my phone, half-expecting a message from her. I know she’ll come to me tonight, seeking answers, seeking something she doesn’t fully understand yet. And when she does, I’ll be ready. I’ll be waiting.

And when I finally have her…

Fuck, she’ll never be the same.

Lilith

My hands are shaking as I close the door to my apartment behind me, the soft click of the lock echoing in the silence. The entire walk home, I could barely catch my breath, my heart pounding from everything that happened today. From seeing Sebastian at The Library, to the way he touched me and fucked my pussy with his tongue until I came all over it, whispered those dark promises in my ear.The only god I’ll ever know.The memory alone sends shivers down my spine, but not the kind that make you want to run away. No, these shivers make me want to run right to him.

I lean back against the door, closing my eyes, and I can still feel the heat of his breath against my neck, his hand wrapped around my throat—not painfully, just enough to make me weak. Every inch of me is still humming from the intensity of that moment. My skin is on fire, every nerve buzzing with awareness. He walked away, but the ghost of his touch lingers, sending another wave of heat straight through me.

It’s been hours, but I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s in my head, under my skin, and it’s driving me insane. I’ve never experienced anything like this. The way he looked at me, like he was ready to claim me… no, fuck me in the middle of the aisle. Like I was something he owned. Why does that turn me on so much? It’s like he’s left this invisible mark on me, a brand that burns hotter every time I think about his hands, his mouth, theway he made me come. I can still feel the ghost of his fingers, the pressure around my throat, the taste of myself lingering on my lips after he kissed me. God, it shouldn’t feel this good. I shouldn’t want him like this, but I do. I want more.

I kick off my shoes, my mind swirling with thoughts I don’t want to have. Thoughts that make my skin flush and my pulse quicken. I should be scared. Any normal person would be scared after the way he touched me today, the things he said. But I’m not scared. I’m fucking turned on. What the hell is wrong with me?

I walk toward the bathroom, my legs feeling like jelly as I move. My reflection in the mirror shows exactly how messed up I am. My lips are still swollen, not just from where I bit them earlier trying to stop myself from saying something stupid, but from how he kissed me—hard, possessive, like he was claiming every inch of me. My skin is flushed, my hair a mess, and there’s a wildness in my eyes that I don’t recognize. It’s like he’s awakened something inside me, something dark, something dangerous. And I fucking love it. The ache between my legs is still there, a constant reminder of what he did, of how much I want more.

I turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face, hoping it’ll calm me down. But it doesn’t. The second I close my eyes, I see him again. The way he looked at me, the way his hand tightened around my throat, the way his lips brushed against my ear as he whispered, “I’m the only god you’ll ever know.”

Fuck, just the memory makes me wet.

I grab my phone, my fingers trembling as I open our message thread. I know I shouldn’t text him, but I can’t help it. I need to know what’s going on. I need to know what’s happening between us.

My body reacts instantly, heat pooling between my legs as I imagine him touching me again. I close my eyes, and I can see it—his hand on my throat, his fingers tracing the curve of my jaw, his lips ghosting over mine before he takes what he wants. My breath quickens, my skin tingling with need.

I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never wanted anyone like this. But Sebastian… he’s different. He’s dangerous, and I know I should be running in the opposite direction, but all I want to do is run straight into his arms. I want to feel his hands on me, his body pressing against mine, his cock buried deep inside me.

I lean against the counter, my fingers sliding beneath my dress before I can stop myself.God, I’m pathetic.But I can’t stop. I need relief, and the only thing that’s going to do it is imagining him.

My fingers find their way to my pussy, slick with arousal and his tongue, and I let out a soft moan as I start to play with myself. I bite my lip, trying to keep the sounds in, but it’s hard. The more I think about him, the more I imagine his hands on me, the harder it is to stay quiet. I press my fingers harder against my clit, and my body responds instantly, my hips bucking against my hand.

Fuck, I’m so wet.I don’t even care anymore. I need this. I need him.

My fingers move faster, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I imagine him standing behind me, his hand wrapped around my throat as he whispers filthy things in my ear. I picture him fucking me, hard and rough, the way I know he would. I picture the way his muscles would flex as he pounds into me, the way his voice would growl in my ear as he takes what he wants from me.

“Oh god,” I moan, my body trembling as I get closer and closer to the edge. My fingers slide inside me, pumping in and out as I imagine it’s him, imagine his cock filling me. I’ve never been with anyone before, but I’ve fucked myself enough times to know what I like. And right now, all I can think about is him.

I picture him fucking me up against the bookshelves, just like he teased earlier. The thought of it—his body pressed against mine, his hand still around my throat, his cock buried deep inside me—sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I come hard, my entire body shaking with the force of it.

“Sebastian,” I moan, his name slipping from my lips as I ride out the orgasm. My fingers are soaked, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. But even as the waves of pleasure subside, I’m still thinking about him.

I collapse onto my bed, my body still trembling from the intensity of it all. I’ve never come that hard before, and I know it’s because of him. Because of the way he makes me feel—so out of control, so desperate for more.

My mind won’t let go of him. I try to push it away, focus on anything else, but all I can see is his face, the way his eyes burned into mine, the way his voice dripped with promise and threat. I can still hear his words echoing in my head,“I’ll take you to heaven, and drag you to hell.”

A shiver runs down my spine as I sit up in bed, biting my lip. No. I won’t let him have all the control. Two can play this game. If he thinks he’s going to get inside my head and take over my thoughts, then I’ll show him exactly what it feels like to lose control. To have him chasing me instead.

I throw the covers off and stand up, my heart pounding as I walk over to my closet. I know what I need to do. If I’m going to see him tonight, I need to dress the part—something that will get under his skin, make him lose the control he’s so good at holding over me. I scan the clothes hanging in front of me, my fingers brushing over the fabric until I land on a tight black dress. It’s low-cut, revealing just enough skin to make him think about what’s underneath. Perfect.

I slide the dress on, feeling the way it hugs my body, accentuating every curve. I want him to see me, to really see me,and to know that this game isn’t one-sided. I can play with fire too. I run my fingers through my hair, giving it that tousled, just-fucked look I know he loves, then add a little red lipstick for good measure. My heart races as I check myself in the mirror. I look dangerous. Sexy. Ready.

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