Page 62 of The Library

With everything in hand, I make my way back to her apartment. The drive is quick, but the anticipation makes every second drag. I’m practically vibrating with the thought of what’s about to happen. I can already picture her expression when she realizes I’ve taken her fantasy and twisted it into reality.

I park around the back, slipping into the shadows like I’ve done a thousand times before. The cameras give me the perfect view—there she is, sprawled out naked on her bed, the smut book she sent me a picture of lying abandoned beside her, an empty bottle of wine tilting precariously on the nightstand. She’s restless, shifting every few moments, probably pissed that I didn’t respond to her earlier message. It’s exactly how I want her—wound up and waiting.

I stand there, watching for a few more minutes, just taking her in. Her body looks soft, completely exposed to me, vulnerable in the way only she can be. Her skin is pale, untouched by the sun, a stark contrast to the mass of dark hair spilling across the pillow like ink. She’s small, fragile, but I know better now—she can handle more than I originally gave her credit for. She’s already proven that.

But it’s her eyes that always get me. Those deep, unnatural blue eyes that can look so innocent one second and so damn dangerous the next. They draw you in, like heaven calling you closer, but there’s a darkness lurking behind them—a darkness that matches mine, maybe even feeds off it.

I lick my lips as I watch her, the anticipation practically choking me. She has no idea I’m here, no clue what I’m about to do to her. The thought of her waking up, realizing her fantasy is about to come true, makes my cock harden instantly.

* * *

I slipped into the room silently, careful not to wake her just yet. Her breathing was steady, her body soft and sprawled across the bed, completely oblivious to what was coming. I stand over her, watching for a moment, savoring the sight of her before I make my move. Her dark hair is scattered over the pillow, her lips slightly parted as she sleeps—so peaceful. So unaware.

The first thing I do is slide the blindfold over her eyes, tightening it just enough to block out any chance of her seeing what’s happening. She stirs, a small sound escaping her lips, but she doesn’t wake. Not until I grab her wrists, twisting thembehind her back, and bind them together with the rope I’ve brought.

That’s when she jerks, gasping as her body tenses. The scream that rises in her throat is silenced by my hand, covering her mouth before she can even make a sound. Her panic is instant, her body writhing against me, trying to break free. But I’m stronger, and she’s no match for the grip I have on her.

I shove the O-ring gag between her lips, forcing her mouth open as I secure it in place. She’s whimpering now, her body trembling in fear as she tries to make sense of what’s happening. But I don’t say a word. I let the silence hang between us, thick and heavy, watching her squirm, her mind racing, wondering who has her, what’s coming next.

I move my hand slowly down her body, tracing her curves, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers. She’s so soft, so fragile, and completely at my mercy. I can feel her pulse racing beneath my touch, her breathing ragged as she tries to control her panic. But there’s no controlling this.

Her body arches slightly as my hand slides lower, down her stomach, grazing the inside of her thigh. She lets out a muffled moan through the gag, her body betraying her as her hips push toward my hand. She’s terrified, but I can feel the heat radiating from between her legs, the wetness already starting

I move slowly, savoring every second as I expose her to me. She squirms harder, her breathing coming in short, shallow gasps, but I ignore it. My fingers slide between her legs, finding her pussy slick and ready for me. She’s soaked, and she knows it.

Her body reacts instinctively, her hips moving against my hand as I press my fingers against her clit, teasing her with just enough pressure to make her writhe beneath me. I can feel her legs trembling, her breath catching in her throat as she fights against the sensations. But she’s already lost this battle.

I lean in close, my lips brushing against her neck, not saying a word as I watch her come undone beneath me. She’s panicking, desperate to know who’s touching her, but I don’t give her the satisfaction. I want her to feel it all, to experience the fear, the desire, the helplessness, without knowing who’s in control. It’s what she asked for, what she wanted.

And tonight, I’ll give her every bit of it.

I lift her into my arms, carrying her out of the apartment and placing her in the trunk of my car without saying a word. She’s still trying to struggle, but it’s no use. I close the trunk and climb into the driver’s seat, turning on the engine. The familiar beats of “Runrunrun” by Dutch Melrose fill the car, setting the perfect tone for the night ahead. I drive through the quiet streets, heading toward the woods surrounding my house.

In the trunk, I can hear her muffled breaths, sharp and erratic. She’s trembling, her body tensed with both fear and anticipation, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. She’s scared, yes, but I know Lilith. I know that fear excites her just as much as it does me. Right now, as she squirms against the ropes binding her wrists and the gag keeping her silent, I know she’s dripping wet. The line between terror and desire has always blurred for her, and tonight, I’m going to push her past both.

The drive doesn’t take long, but it feels like an eternity, every second amplifying the tension between us. I pull off the road into a secluded clearing surrounded by thick trees. No one will find us out here. I own these woods, all one hundred and thirty-seven acres, but she doesn’t know that. She won’t know where we are. Not yet.

I cut the engine, and for a moment, the world is silent. Nothing but the faint rustle of the wind through the trees and the soft sound of her breathing from the trunk. My pulse quickens with anticipation as I step out of the car and make my way to theback. I pop open the trunk, and there she is—bound, gagged, and completely at my mercy. So fucking beautiful. Her body tenses when the cool night air hits her bare skin, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she realizes we’re about to start this game.

I lift her out of the trunk, setting her down on the forest floor. She stumbles, her bare feet slipping on the damp earth, but I catch her, pulling her back up before she can fall. Her body is trembling, every muscle tight with fear and excitement. She’s trying to make sense of what’s happening, of the darkness surrounding her and the fact that she can’t see a damn thing.

But that’s about to change.

I pull the mask from my bag, feeling the cold glass shards pressing into my skin as I slip it over my face. The blood splatters across the mask gleam under the pale moonlight, adding a twisted touch to the scene. I look down at her—still blindfolded, still trembling—and lean in close, my lips brushing against her ear.

“Lilith,” I whisper, my voice low and menacing. I watch as her body jolts at the sound of her name, her breathing becoming even more frantic. I reach up and, with one quick motion, rip off the blindfold.

Her eyes go wide when she sees me. The mask. The blood. The overwhelming darkness that surrounds us. She tries to scream, but the gag muffles her cries, turning them into soft, desperate whimpers. Drool drips down her chin, trailing across her bare chest as she looks up at me, helpless and exposed.

I stand there for a moment, savoring the sight of her. Her eyes are filled with panic, but there’s something else there too. Something darker, something that matches the fire burning inside me. She’s afraid, yes, but she’s also turned on. I can see it in the way her body responds, her nipples hard, the way her thighs press together despite the fear gripping her.

I step closer, my hand reaching out to trail my fingers down the side of her face. She flinches, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she shivers, her lips trembling against the gag as she tries to form words. I press a finger to her open lips, silencing her attempts, and then slide my hand down her throat, feeling her pulse racing beneath my palm.

“So fucking beautiful,” I whisper to her. My girl deserves to know how beautiful she is bound and gagged.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a knife, dragging the blade slowly across her cheek. “You better run for your life, Lilith,” I murmur, watching as her breath hitches in fear and excitement. “Because when I catch you, I fuck you. And I will catch you. I always do. I’m always one step ahead.”

Her body tenses, and for a moment, she hesitates. Then, without warning, she bolts. I let out a wicked laugh. She takes off into the woods, her feet barely making a sound as she runs. I watch her for a moment, admiring the way her body moves, so graceful yet frantic, desperate to escape.

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