The Library

Lilith

I can’t believe I’m letting this happen.

Every fiber of my body is screaming at me to stop, to run, to put distance between myself and the heat radiating off his body. But I can’t. His presence pulls me in, tethering me to him in a way I don’t fully understand. It’s like he’s wrapped his hands around my throat, but instead of fear, I’m craving more.

I should be ashamed. The way I’m melting into his touch, the way my body responds to him without a single thought of resistance. I can barely think, my mind spinning with every brush of his hand, every dark word that falls from his lips. The desire coursing through me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and I’m losing myself in it—losing myself in him .

His thumb rubs over my clit, teasing it in slow circles while his fingers slam into me, fucking my pussy with a relentless rhythm. I can’t hold back the moan that escapes me, my body reacting to every touch, every movement. The wetness between my legs is undeniable, flooding over his fingers as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge.

I want to fight it, to hold on to some shred of control, but I can’t. Not with him. He’s got me right where he wants me, and the way he’s fucking me with his hand, the pressure building inside me, I know I’m about to break.

“Tell me you’ve thought about this,” he growls against my skin, his voice low and rough. “Tell me you’ve imagined my hands on you, touching you.”

“I have,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out. “I’ve thought about it.”

His grip on me tightens, and I can feel the satisfaction radiating from him. He’s playing me like a puppet, pulling the strings, and I’m helpless to stop him. I don’t want to stop him.

He rewards me by pushing his fingers deeper, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my lips. The sound of my pleasure fills the small space around us, and I feel him smile against my skin, reveling in the power he has over me.

“I knew you would,” he breathes, his voice dark and full of promise. “You were always meant to be mine.”

“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, but I know he hears me. I feel the rumble of his dark, predatory laughter against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

His lips hover near my ear, his breath hot against my neck. “Please what, ?” His voice is a low growl, a command hidden beneath the question. “You want more? You have to beg for it.”

My hips move against his hand without permission, my body betraying me as his fingers slam into me harder, faster. The shame I felt earlier is gone, replaced by raw, desperate desire. I need him to take me over the edge, to push me into that oblivion I’ve been chasing.

“Touch me,” I finally manage to say, my voice trembling, nearly breaking. “Please.”

A dark smirk spreads across his lips, victorious. He’s won, and we both know it. His thumb presses harder against my clit, and his fingers fuck me deeper, faster, until my entire body shudders with release. I come hard, my pussy clenching around his fingers, soaking his hand in the flood of my orgasm.

He pulls his hand away, leaving me gasping, trembling from the intensity of it. I watch as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving mine. “Good girl,” he whispers, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I shake my head, unable to speak, my breath coming out in shallow, ragged gasps. My body is still trembling from the intensity of my release, my mind fogged with the aftermath of pleasure. His fingers just pushed me to the edge and over it, and now I’m lost in the sensation, in the way his touch lingers on my skin, the way he commanded my body so completely. It’s overwhelming—too much and not enough all at once. My legs are weak, my heart racing, and the only thing I can focus on is him, the dark satisfaction in his eyes as he watches me fall apart.

The possessiveness in his voice sends a fresh wave of heat through me, and I can feel my body tightening, preparing to fall over the edge again. I’m so close, teetering on the brink, and I know it won’t take much more for him to push me over one more time.

But he stops.

His hand pulls away, leaving me gasping, trembling, desperate for more. I let out a sound of protest, my body aching for his touch, but he’s already pulled back, stepping away from me, his eyes dark and full of shadows.

“Not yet,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “I let you come once already, but next time? You’ll be begging for it.”

I stare at him, my chest heaving, my body still buzzing with the heat of his touch. The frustration and need are almost unbearable, but there’s something about the way he controls the moment, the way he controls me , that makes it all the more intoxicating.

He leans in close again, his lips brushing mine but not quite kissing me. “You’ll beg for it, ,” he whispers, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. “And when you do, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

A soft, desperate moan escapes me, and I manage to whisper, “Sebastian–” before I can finish, he’s gone. I’m left standing there, trembling and breathless, his name lingering on my lips, echoing in my mind.

Sebastian.