The Library

Lilith

H e steps closer, his gaze lingering over me like he’s savoring every inch, and I can feel the air between us thicken. His presence is suffocating, yet intoxicating. The fake blood is still splattered across my chest, seeping into the fabric of my dress, making it cling to my skin, and all I can focus on is how his eyes darken with hunger beneath that mask.

The mask. It covers his entire face, white like a ghost, with blood splattered across it as if he’s just come from some macabre scene. His eyes, the only thing visible, gleam with a dark intensity that makes me want to drop to my knees. My pulse quickens, and my breaths grow shallow. I’ve never told anyone about this, not even him, but something about the mask stirs something deep inside me, igniting a desire so primal I can barely control it. The anonymity, the danger it suggests—it only adds to the thrill, the intoxicating pull he has over me. I shouldn’t like it this much, but I do.

He’s staring at me like I’m something he’s about to devour, and the intensity in his gaze sends a shiver straight to my core. It’s too much, the way his eyes roam over my body, as if the mask gives him permission to look at me in ways no one else would dare. My legs tremble, the heat between them building to an unbearable point. My body betrays me in ways I can’t control, every nerve on fire with a craving that’s both thrilling and terrifying.

My nipples harden under the thin fabric, the cool air brushing against them, only making me more aware of his eyes on me. I know he sees it—the way my body reacts to him, the way I’m practically offering myself up to him without a word. My breath comes in shallow, ragged gasps as I try to make sense of the pull he has on me, the way my body responds to him like I’ve never experienced before. It’s more than just attraction; it’s the need to submit, to give in completely to whatever dark, twisted game he wants to play.

I can’t stop staring at that mask. It shouldn’t affect me like this, but it does. There’s something dangerous about him in it—more dangerous than usual—that makes me want him even more. I’m barely holding on to my sanity, barely resisting the urge to give in to the tension crackling between us.

His voice is low, a dark rumble that vibrates through me as he steps even closer. “You like this, don’t you?” His hand brushes against my arm, a feather-light touch that leaves my skin burning in its wake. My breath hitches as his fingers drift lower, teasing the chain of my necklace. He lifts the upside-down cross between us, playing with it, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Interesting choice,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing the pendant as his eyes lock onto mine. The dark gleam in his gaze sends a shiver down my spine. “A little twisted, don’t you think?” He lets the necklace drop back against my chest, the cold metal resting between my breasts. The way he looks at me, the way his voice rumbles through me, makes it impossible to breathe. It’s as if the simple act of touching that symbol was a promise of everything dark and forbidden that’s yet to come.

His smirk deepens as he drops the necklace, letting the chain fall back against my chest. “But I like it. Suits you,” he says, his voice laced with something dark, something twisted. The way his fingers lingered on the necklace sends a wave of heat straight through me, and I can’t stop my mind from wandering. I’m thinking about the way those same fingers played with me in The Library, the way he made me come all over his hand, his touch precise and relentless. The way his thumb rubbed my clit just perfectly, while I was coming all over his fingers that were buried inside my pussy.

My breath hitches as the memory hits me, vivid and undeniable. The necklace feels cold against my heated skin, but all I can think about is how those fingers felt—slick with my arousal, teasing me, taking control. He has that same look in his eyes now, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, like he’s remembering it too. The hunger in his gaze makes my pulse race, and I can feel myself trembling with the need for more.

I don’t answer, but I don’t need to. He already knows. He always knows.

“You look… enticing,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with desire. His words send a shudder through me, and I can feel the wetness pooling between my thighs, my body aching for something I can’t even name.

I try to respond, but my throat is dry, my mind blank. All I can manage is a shaky stammer. “It’s, uh… fake blood. One of the drinks…”

He smirks, and it’s a dark, predatory grin that makes my pulse race even faster. His hand grazes against my arm, and I swear my skin ignites from the brief touch. His fingers linger there, trailing up, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His breath is hot against my ear, sending a wave of heat crashing through me as he leans in closer.

“Doesn’t matter. It suits you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, and I feel like my legs might give out from the intensity of it all. Every part of me is on fire, every nerve tingling under his gaze, under his touch.

I can’t think. I can’t breathe. All I can feel is him—his presence overwhelming every other thought. The way he looks at me, like I belong to him already, like he’s about to claim me right here and now. It’s wrong, but the way my body reacts to him… it’s undeniable.

My mouth goes dry, and my pulse is racing uncontrollably. I step back, trying to regain some control, but I’m a mess. “I need to… clean this up,” I stammer, the words tumbling out before I even know what I’m saying.

His eyes don’t leave mine, the heat between us crackling like electricity. “Bathroom’s this way,” he says, his voice rough with desire, and there’s an unspoken promise in it that sends another wave of heat crashing through me. He grabs my elbow and starts toward the hallway, and I follow, my body moving without thought, like I’m under his spell.

The bathroom feels too small, too intimate. The sound of the party fades into the background as the door closes behind us, leaving just the two of us, the air between us thick with tension. I look at myself in the mirror—my face and chest smeared with blood, my dress clinging to my curves, and the flush on my skin that tells me everything I’m trying to deny.

God, I’m soaked. I can feel the slickness between my thighs, the aching need building inside me, and it’s all because of him. Because of the way he’s looking at me like I’m his prey, like he’s just waiting to pounce.

I look up in the mirror, and I meet his gaze in the reflection. His eyes are burning with desire, dark and dangerous, and the way he’s looking at me sends a jolt of heat straight to my core.

“You have no idea how badly I want you right now,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that reverberates through me. He steps closer, his fingers brushing against the side of my neck, and I gasp at the intensity of the contact. It’s barely a touch, but it feels like a brand, like he’s marking me as his.

His hand trails down my neck, his fingers grazing my collarbone before they dip lower, just teasing the edge of my dress. I’m trembling, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I try to hold on to some semblance of control, but it’s slipping. It’s slipping fast, and I don’t know if I want to stop it.

“Covered in blood… so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his lips hovering just above my skin. His breath is warm against me, and the way he says it, like he wants to taste me, makes my knees weak.

I gulp, my body shaking with need. I’ve never felt like this before—so completely out of control, so overwhelmed by desire. “I don’t even know your full name,” I manage to whisper, my voice trembling as I look up at him through the mirror.

His lips curl into a dark, knowing smile, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Sebastian Ashford,” he says, the name rolling off his tongue like a promise.

The sound of his name sends a wave of heat crashing through me, and before I can stop myself, I lean into his touch, craving more of him—more of this. His hand moves lower, tracing the curve of my breast through the fabric of my dress, and I can feel the ache between my legs grow unbearable.

I need him. God, I need him like I’ve never needed anything before.

He steps closer, his body pressing against mine, and I can feel the hardness of him against my back. It sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my pussy, and I bite my lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. His hand slips down, his fingers grazing the hem of my dress, teasing me, and I’m trembling with anticipation, with need.

“I can’t…” I whisper, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and desire. “I shouldn’t…”

He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear, and I feel like I’m about to come undone. “But you want to,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “I can feel it. I can see it.”

My body is on fire, my mind spinning with the weight of his words, and I know he’s right. I do want this. I want him.

“Sebastian…” I whisper.

And right now, nothing else matters.