The Library

Sebastian

I watch her slip out of the classroom like a rabbit running from a fox. She knows I’m watching, though she’s not ready to face it just yet. I see the way her body tenses, the way she tries to avoid looking back at me. It’s instinctual—she’s aware, deep down, that I’m always nearby. I am the predator and she is the prey, and she knows it.

I don’t leave the room right away. I let her get a head start, give her time to think she’s escaped. She’s predictable in her movements, and I know exactly where she’s headed. The Library. Her sanctuary. It’s conveniently close to campus, just far enough from the hustle of downtown to avoid the chaos, yet close enough to the college and city life to still feel connected. A place where she believes she can hide from the world, lose herself in stories that dull the sharp edges of reality. But she can’t hide from me. Not in there. Not anywhere.

I take my time walking through campus, feeling the crisp air against my skin. It’s funny how easily she’s fallen into my world without even realizing it. This isn’t a game to me—it’s something far more intricate. Lilith is a puzzle, and I’m the only one who knows how to put her pieces together. She’s trying so hard to keep control, to pretend that everything in her life is normal, but that illusion is crumbling fast.

And I’m going to be the one to tear it apart.

When I reach The Library, I step inside quietly, my movements deliberate. I scan the rows of shelves, the quiet rustle of people browsing for their next escape filling the space. It’s almost too easy. She’s here somewhere, hiding between these walls, believing that the outside world can’t touch her. But I’m already inside her world. I’ve been inside it for longer than she knows.

I find her in the far corner, tucked away in one of those oversized armchairs, her legs curled up beneath her as she reads. Her dark hair falls around her face, shielding her from everything around her. She’s trying to disappear into those pages, to escape into another world, but there’s no escaping me.

I can’t help but smile at the sight of her. She looks so innocent, so vulnerable sitting there, her guard completely down. She has no idea that I’m here, watching her, that I’ve already seen more of her than she’ll ever realize. Her apartment… the cameras I’ve hidden… I know every inch of her space, every intimate detail of her life.

But it’s not enough. Not anymore.

I move silently through the rows of books, my eyes never leaving her. The closer I get, the more I can feel the pull between us. She’s oblivious to it, lost in her world, but I can sense it. The tension, the anticipation. It’s thick in the air, and it’s only a matter of time before she feels it too.

I stop just a few feet away, leaning against one of the shelves, watching her. She’s reading one of those smutty romance novels again, her cheeks slightly flushed as her eyes dart across the pages. I wonder if she even realizes what those stories are doing to her, how they’re feeding into the fantasies she’s too scared to admit out loud that she loves. She craves control and danger all wrapped up in one, a dark fantasy that she thinks can only exist between the pages of a book.

But I’m here to show her just how real it can be. Those fantasies don’t just belong in her head or in those books. They exist when my face is buried between her legs, when my cock is deep inside her pretty pussy and ass. She wants that darkness, that hunger, and I’m the one who’s going to give it to her, every twisted desire she’s too afraid to speak.

My fingers brush the spines of the books on the shelf, and the sound is enough to catch her attention. Her head snaps up, her wide eyes meeting mine across the small space. I see the flicker of surprise, the recognition. She wasn’t expecting me. Good.

Her gaze drops to the floor for a moment, as if she’s trying to steady herself, but when she looks back up at me, I see it. That little spark of fear. And something more. Deeper, darker. Desire.

I don’t move. I let her take me in, let her process the fact that I’m here, watching her again. Her fingers grip the edge of the book a little tighter, like it’s her lifeline, the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. But she’s already slipping. I can see it in her eyes. She doesn’t want to feel this way, doesn’t want to acknowledge what my presence is doing to her, but she can’t help it.

I give her a small, knowing smile. It’s a game, after all. And I’m patient. Sure, it may be more than just a game—something twisted, more dangerous—but the game is still part of it. The thrill of watching her unravel, step by step, until she’s right where I want her.

She swallows hard, her gaze darting around the room as if she’s considering making an escape. But I know she won’t. She’s too curious, too intrigued by the danger I bring with me. Slowly, she stands from the chair, the tension between us palpable. I can practically feel her pulse quickening from where I stand.

“Hello, Lilith,” I murmur, my voice low, just loud enough for her to hear.

She flinches at the sound of her name rolling off my tongue, and I see the way her body reacts, her breath catching in her throat. It’s subtle, but I notice everything. She’s terrified, and yet, there’s that part of her that’s drawn to it, that craves the darkness I offer.

I take a slow step forward, closing the distance between us. Her eyes never leave mine, like she’s trapped in my gaze, unable to break free. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I say, my voice smooth, casual, like this is just another ordinary day.

But there’s nothing ordinary about this. Not for her.

She shifts slightly, clearly trying to find her footing, her voice shaky when she finally responds. “I—uh—didn’t expect… you.”

I smile again, letting my gaze linger on her, taking my time. “I seem to have that effect.”

Her eyes flicker with something—nervousness, maybe, or maybe it’s something more primal.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” I say, watching the way her breath hitches at my words. And I know she’s been thinking about me too because I’ve seen her in her bed, moaning my name as she fucks her pussy with her fingers. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t have to. I can see it all over her. She’s unraveling, piece by piece, just like I planned.