Page 47 of The Library

I lean down, my lips brushing her ear. “You’re mine, Lilith,” I whisper, my voice rough with satisfaction. “No one else will ever touch you like this. No one else will ever have you.”

She nods weakly, her body still shaking from everything I just put her through, and I can see it in her eyes—she knows it. She knows she belongs to me, and there’s no going back.

We lay there in silence for a while, my cock still buried inside her, her body trembling in the aftermath. When I finally pull away, I kiss her once more and slide my jeans back on. She’s still lying there, naked, her pussy filled with my come.

“Come here,” I murmur, softer this time, pulling her close as she lies beneath me, her breath still ragged. I get a damp cloth and gently wipe away the tear-streaks and smudged makeup from her face, my thumb brushing her swollen lips. The tenderness is a sharp contrast to the way I just fucked her, claiming every inch of her body.

“You can stay the night if you want,” I offer, my voice low but firm, giving her a small bit of control after everything. “It’s up to you.” I watch her eyes widen slightly, the flicker of confusion still there, but now there’s something else—a glimmer of understanding, perhaps even gratitude.

She moves slowly, her body still trembling, and grabs her dress from the living room floor, but there’s no rush. She pauses for a moment, glancing back at me, as if waiting for permission or maybe an excuse to stay. Her lips part as if to say something, but instead, she just pulls the dress over her head, though it’s inside out—she doesn’t even notice.

I let her have that moment, a rare gesture of control in a situation I’ve dominated completely. “The choice is yours, Lilith. But either way, I’ll still have you.”

I watch her leave, the sway of her hips as she walks away, knowing she’ll come back. She has no choice. I’ve already taken root in her mind, and soon, I’ll take everything else.

As the door closes behind her, I lean back against the wall, my heart still racing. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her, and the thought of what’s to come only makes the anticipation sweeter.

I smirk to myself, running a hand through my hair. She’ll be back. She’ll come crawling back to me, begging for more, and when she does, I’ll give her everything. But not before I make her realize what it means to be truly mine.

The moment she fell to her knees before me, it’s like every twisted fantasy I’ve ever had about her is coming to life. The way she looked up at me, her eyes wide, filled with desire and uncertainty—it was enough to make my cock throb painfully in my jeans even after I had just came down her throat. She’s never done that before, but fuck if I won’t be the only man she ever does it for.

This isn’t just about pleasure. It’s about possession.

The moment she walked back into my house, I knew she was ready to be tested. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes were pleading, her body practically vibrating with need. She’s been mine since the moment she first laid eyes on me, and now it’s time to show her exactly what that means.

Lilith

My legs are still trembling as I step out of his house, my mind spinning with everything that just happened. The feel of him, the taste of him—it’s all still so fresh in my head. I can’t believe what I just did, what he made me do. And the worst part? I loved every second of it.

The way he fucked me, slowly at first, letting me feel every inch of his cock stretching my tight, virgin pussy, before slamming into me with a force that had me seeing stars—it’s etched into my body, my mind, my soul. He took me hard, rough, but with just enough control to keep me grounded, talking me through the pain, guiding me into the pleasure that followed.

I can still feel the ache in my jaw, the raw burn in my throat from choking on him, and the lingering taste of his come on my lips. The way he looked down at me, his cock deep in my mouth, telling me I was his good girl as tears streamed down my cheeks—it was twisted, dark, and I fucking loved it. My body is on fire, still trembling from the way he took me, the way he claimed me in every possible way. He didn’t just fuck me, he owned me—pinned me down and made me come over and over again until I was nothing but a writhing mess beneath him, begging for more.

I know I should be ashamed, especially since he just took my virginity—ripped it away like it was nothing, like it was his to take all along. But I’m not. There’s no room for guilt in the hazeof lust and need that’s consuming me right now. Instead, I feel alive, raw, aching in ways I’ve never known before. His come is still inside me, marking me, as if it’s a reminder that I’ll never be the same again. And maybe I don’t want to be.

All I can think about is him. How his cock filled me, how he stretched me, how he was gentle for me, but I saw it in his eyes—this was the last time he’d ever be gentle. He didn’t say it, but I could feel it in the way his hands gripped me, in the way he held back. He won’t hold back again. Next time, he’ll take me like the monster he really is, and I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want it.

I can still feel the ache between my legs, a reminder of how Sebastian just fucked me. But it’s not just wetness—it’s his come, leaking down my thighs with every step I take to my car. He filled me completely, his cock so big I could barely take it all. My body is still throbbing from the way he stretched me, ruined me, and yet, I can’t stop thinking about how much more I want.

Every time I shift, I feel the soreness deep inside me, a raw, aching reminder of how hard he pushed into me, how he made me take him, inch by inch, until I was nothing but a trembling mess underneath him. He knew exactly what he was doing, making sure I felt every part of him, and now I can’t stop feeling it. My pussy is still swollen, tender from the way he fucked me, the memory of his cock driving into me over and over again branded into my skin.

I knew his cock was big—felt it when he pressed into me, inch by inch, stretching me until I thought I might tear. But it wasn’t just the size—it was the way he used it, the way he looked at me as he fucked me, watching every reaction, every moan, every gasp of pain and pleasure. And even though he was gentle at first, I can already feel the sting of it. The kind of sting that will stay with me for days, a constant, throbbing reminder of just how much of me he took. How much I let him take.

But the way he came inside me—no condom, no hesitation—was another form of his control. He knew exactly what he was doing, laying claim to me in the most primal, possessive way possible. He didn’t ask, didn’t wait for permission, just filled me completely with his come like I was already his. And god, I fucking loved it. The way he laid claim to me, marking me with his seed, owning me in every way. It wasn’t just about sex—it was about power, control, and the fact that I let him have all of it.

And the worst part? I want more. Even now, as I feel his come trickling down my thighs, marking me as his, I know I’d let him do it all over again. Let him fuck me until I’m broken, ruined, until there’s nothing left of me but his to claim.

I know this was just the beginning. He was careful with me, holding back, and I can’t stop thinking about what it’s going to feel like when he doesn’t. When he gives me everything, without restraint. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, even through the soreness, because I want it. I crave it. It’s like my body doesn’t belong to me anymore. It’s his. He made sure of that when he fucked me, when he filled me so completely, leaving no part of me untouched.

I can still feel the weight of him, the way he looked down at me like I was something to be devoured, conquered, and even though he took so much, I know he wants to rip more away from me. I know he’s going to push me further, break me in ways I can’t even imagine yet. And the terrifying part? I’m ready for it. I want him to take it all. My body, my mind, my soul—whatever he wants, it’s already his.

I never thought I’d want someone like this—never thought I’d crave someone so much after the way he used me. But I do. God, I do. I want him again. I need him again. The way he fucked me… it’s all I can think about. Every inch of my body still feels him, still wants him. I can barely walk without rememberingthe way he stretched me, the way his cock filled me, the way he looked down at me like I was his possession.

And now, I am. I’m his, and the terrifying thing is, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Fuck, what is he doing to me?

I can barely focus as I make my way back to my apartment. My mind keeps drifting back to the way he looked at me, the way he commanded me, took control of me. The way he told me that I was his. It’s intoxicating, the way he owns every part of me without even having to try.

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