The Library

Sebastian

T he vibration of my phone pulls me from the darkness of my thoughts. I glance down, the screen lighting up with her name.

Lilith: We need to talk.

Simple words, but they carry the weight of something more—something inevitable. I knew this moment was coming, but still, seeing the words spelled out before me stirs something primal deep inside. The anticipation, the tension, it’s all reaching a tipping point.

I stare at my phone for a long moment, the screen glowing in the dim light of my room. The room is quiet—too quiet. It’s the kind of silence that makes everything feel amplified, like every breath is louder, every heartbeat more pronounced. I can feel the pulse of my own blood in my veins, the slow build of desire creeping up inside me.

I knew she’d reach out eventually. After last night, after Derek, after the way her body responded to mine, there’s no way she could ignore the pull between us. But still, I wonder if she understands the full weight of what’s happening. Does she know what she’s gotten herself into? Does she realize that once she walks through my door tonight, she’ll be mine completely?

I’ve always had control, always been the one calling the shots. I’ve spent my life mastering the art of patience, of manipulation. But with Lilith, that control feels fragile. She stirs something inside me that’s darker, deeper than anything I’ve felt before. She makes me want to break my own rules, to lose myself in the chaos of her.

But I won’t. Not yet.

I lean back in my seat, a slow smile creeping across my lips. She’s ready. Maybe not consciously, but on some level, she understands what’s happening. The danger, the thrill—it’s pulling her in, just like I knew it would.

I reply quickly, but not too eagerly.

Where?

There’s a pause. I can almost imagine her sitting there, staring at her phone, debating what to say. She’s probably still confused, torn between the fear of what she suspects and the undeniable pull she feels toward me. She’s smart enough to know something’s wrong, but not smart enough to stay away. Not that she could, even if she wanted to.

The next message comes through a moment later.

Lilith: Your place.

I stare at the words for a moment, savoring them. She’s coming to me. No distractions, no safety net of friends, just her. Alone.

Perfect.

I don’t reply right away. Let her sit with anticipation, let her wonder if I’ll even respond. I want her to feel that tension building, the uncertainty of what will happen when we’re finally face-to-face again. But I can’t help the excitement buzzing under my skin, knowing she’s finally taking this step.

After a minute, I type back, sending her my address.

8 PM. Don’t be late.

I can practically feel her nerves through the phone. She knows this isn’t a casual conversation. She knows that whatever happens tonight will change everything. I’ve waited for this, planned for it, and now it’s falling into place.

I stand up, running a hand through my hair, anticipation surging through me. There’s no going back from this. Once she steps into my place, once she’s in my space, she’s mine. She’ll realize that, one way or another. I take a slow, deep breath, feeling the tension coil tighter in my chest as I type out my reply.

I’ll be waiting.

Simple. Direct. But loaded with the promise of everything that’s to come.

I hit send, watching the screen dim as my message is delivered. There’s a sense of satisfaction in knowing she’s already on her way, already making the choice to come to me. It’s what I’ve been waiting for, what I’ve been planning for since the moment I saw her.

I stand up, running my hand through my hair as I pace the room. The house feels too small, too quiet, like it can barely contain the energy buzzing inside me. I’ve spent years learning to control these urges, to keep them at bay. But with Lilith, it’s harder. She’s the first woman who’s ever made me want to break my own boundaries. She’s the first one who’s ever pushed me to the edge of losing myself.

Last night was proof of that. The way she looked at me in the bathroom, her body trembling with need, her breath hitching every time I touched her. She wanted me then, I could see it in her eyes. But I held back. It wasn’t easy—it took everything in me not to fuck her right there, covered in that fake blood, her skin flushed with desire. But I want more than just her body. I want her mind, her soul. I want every part of her, and I want her to give it to me willingly.

Because once I have her, there’s no going back. She won’t be able to escape me, even if she wanted to.

I glance at the clock. I still have time before she arrives. I need to prepare, to make sure everything is ready for her. This isn’t just a meeting—it’s the beginning of something much bigger. It’s the moment where she steps fully into my world. On her terms.

The thought of her walking through my door sends a wave of heat through me, and I feel the familiar pull of desire low in my gut. But I push it back, forcing myself to stay focused. This isn’t just about sex. It’s about control. It’s about claiming what’s mine, on my terms, in my way.

I grab my keys, heading for the door. There’s work to be done, and I won’t leave anything to chance. By the time she arrives, everything will be in place. And when she steps through that door, she’ll know. She’ll understand that she belongs to me now.

* * *

I start the engine of my car, the low rumble vibrating through the silence of the afternoon, like a pulse under my skin. As I pull out onto the street, a dark calm washes over me, settling deep into my bones. This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for.

Every twist of the wheel, every mile I drive, it’s like the world fades away, leaving only one thing in focus—her. My blood hums, thick and hot, with the promise of what’s to come. Anticipation courses through me, dark and primal, the kind that makes a man feel alive, dangerous. The kind that makes me want to tear the world apart just to see how far I can push her. How far she’ll go for me.

I grip the wheel tighter, the leather creaking under my hands, and I can feel it—the power, the control. She thinks she’s playing the game, but the truth is, I already own her. And tonight, she’ll start to understand just how deep this goes. How far I’ll drag her into my world, until she’s drowning in it.

There’s no turning back now. Not for her. Not for me.

My mind is laser-focused, every thought consumed by her. By the way she tasted last night, the way her body reacted to my touch. I replay it over and over again, the sound of her breath hitching, the way her skin flushed under my fingertips. She was mine in that moment, even if she didn’t realize it yet.

But tonight, I’ll make sure she understands.

I drive with purpose, my hands gripping the steering wheel as I navigate through the streets. I think about Derek, the way he thought he could touch her, the way he dared to think he could have what was mine. It was almost laughable, really. The audacity of it. But he’s gone now, and she’s one step closer to being fully mine.

As I drive, I think about all the ways I’ll make her beg for me, all the ways I’ll make her realize that no one else will ever touch her again. No one but me.

The rest of the day passes in a haze of preparation. I cleaned up the evidence from last night—Derek’s blood has already been scrubbed from my hands, his body disposed of—but there’s still a sense of finality in the air. I’ve set the stage for tonight. Everything will be perfect.

I make sure the house is just right. The guards and housekeepers are here, but rarely seen unless needed. Low lights, the air thick with the scent of wood and leather, a mix of dark and warm. It’s a reflection of me, of the world she’s stepping into. She’ll feel it as soon as she walks in—the weight of something far bigger than herself, something dangerous, something she can’t escape.

When I finally pull back up to my house, I feel a surge of anticipation run through me. The night is still, the air heavy with the promise of what’s to come. I step out of the car, my footsteps echoing on the pavement as I head inside. The house is ready, and so am I.

I pour myself a glass of bourbon, leaning against the counter as I wait for her to arrive. My mind is already racing with thoughts of her, of the way she’ll look at me tonight. The way she’ll try to fight it, try to pretend that she’s still in control. But I know the truth. I’ve always known.

By the time 8 PM rolls around, I’m sitting in the dimly lit living room, a drink in hand, waiting. Lighting up a cigarette, the anticipation is like a live wire, buzzing under my skin. I know she’ll come. I know she won’t be able to stay away. She thinks she’s going to hold her own with me tonight—that much was clear from the way she sent that text. Like she’s the one calling the shots now, stepping into my world with some illusion of control. I take a slow drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke curl around me, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

It’s fucking adorable.

She thinks she can play this game, can put her foot down and pretend she has the upper hand. But I know better. The second she walks through that door, she’ll realize just how little power she really has. She’s been running from this—running from me—and now she thinks she can face it on her own terms. It’s laughable, really. She has no idea what’s waiting for her, no idea what kind of darkness she’s stepping into.

I take a sip of my drink, the burn of alcohol grounding me, reminding me of what’s to come. Tonight isn’t just about being around her. It’s about showing her who she really is, tearing down that facade of control and making her see the truth. The darkness she’s been running from? It’s the same darkness that’s going to set her free.

And I’m the only one who can give it to her.

I hear the sound of her car pulling up outside, and I set my glass down, a slow smile spreading across my face.

And then, like clockwork, there’s a knock at the door.

I take my time answering, letting her wait just a little longer. She’s probably standing out there, her heart racing, wondering what the fuck she’s about to walk into. And she should be nervous. She should be scared.

Because after tonight, nothing will ever be the same.

When I finally open the door, she’s standing there, looking more beautiful than ever. Her dark hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and her blue eyes are wide with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. She’s dressed simply—a tight sweater and jeans—but it doesn’t matter. She could be wearing anything, and I’d still want to rip it off her.

As I lean against the door frame, I take her in, and my pulse quickens. She looks the same—perfect, delicate—but there’s something in her eyes tonight, a combination of fear and resolve that sends a thrill coursing through me. It’s exactly what I wanted. That flicker of defiance she’s trying so hard to hold on to, the illusion of strength, the way her body betrays her even now. She doesn’t even realize how much this moment excites me, how badly I want to tear that resolve to pieces and see her unravel.

The way she’s standing there, trying to look confident, like she’s walking in here on her own terms—it’s almost fucking comical. She’s scared. I can see it in the way her hands tremble slightly, the way her breath catches when my eyes lock on hers. But that fear is only part of it. Beneath the fear, there’s something else. Desire. A need she doesn’t fully understand yet, but soon will.

She thinks she’s still in control, still holding onto some shred of power. She has no idea that she’s already lost it the second she stepped through that door.

“Lilith,” I say, my voice low, letting her name roll off my tongue with the weight it deserves.

She shifts nervously, her gaze flicking from me to the room, then back to me. “We need to talk,” she repeats, trying to maintain control, but I can see her hands trembling.

“So you said.” I step aside, a smirk tugging at my lips as I motion for her to enter. I do it purposefully, knowing exactly how much it’ll piss her off, how much it’ll chip away at that little facade of confidence she’s clinging to. I can see the flicker of annoyance in her eyes, and it only makes me want to push her further, to see how far I can stretch her before she snaps.

“Let’s talk,” I add, my voice dripping with mockery, because we both know that’s not why she’s really here.

I shut the door behind her, locking us in together, and the soft click echoes in the quiet room. The tension between us hangs heavy, palpable, like the air thick with an approaching storm. I watch her as she walks into the living room, her eyes flicking around the space. She’s nervous. I can see it in the way her fingers twitch, in the way her chest rises and falls just a little too quickly. But she’s here, and that’s all that matters.

“Drink?” I offer casually, walking toward the bar as if this were any ordinary evening. But I know she’s anything but calm right now.

She shakes her head. “No… No, I’m fine.”

I watch her closely, the way she stands there, vulnerable yet defiant. She’s here for answers, but deep down, she already knows them. I move closer, circling her like a predator sizing up its prey. She hasn’t realized it yet, but the game is over. I’ve already won.

“Why did you come here tonight, Lilith?” I ask, my voice soft yet commanding, pulling her attention away from her nerves. “You could’ve stayed away, but you didn’t.”

She doesn’t waste any time. “Did you… Did you kill him?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it holds a kind of bravery I admire.

She comes right out with it. No hesitation. I like that. A girl who isn’t afraid to say what she wants.

I take a step closer, enjoying the way she holds her breath as I do. “Yes,” I say simply, my voice calm, unwavering. I won’t lie to her when she asks me things. I’m not going to just come right out and tell her things unless she asks. But I will never lie to her.

Her breath catches, and I see the shock ripple through her, the way her body tenses. But she doesn’t back away. If anything, she seems… conflicted. I can see the battle in her eyes—the fear of what that answer means, mixed with the undeniable pull she feels toward me. She wants to understand, but she’s already known the truth all along.

“Why?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

I step even closer, closing the distance between us, and I can feel her body tense in anticipation. My fingers brush her arm, and she shivers at the contact. “Because he was going to hurt you. Because no one touches you but me.”

Her lips part, her breathing uneven, and I can see the struggle in her eyes. She’s scared, yes. But she’s also drawn to me, to this dark, twisted world I’ve pulled her into. And that’s exactly what I want.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you, Lilith,” I breathe, my hand trailing down her arm, down to her waist, pulling her closer. She gasps at the possessiveness in my voice, her body trembling against mine. I lean in, my lips brushing against her ear as I whisper, “You knew this was coming. You knew the moment we met.”

Her breath hitches, and I feel her melt into me, her body responding even as her mind fights it. She wants me, even if she won’t admit it. She craves this—craves me. And I’m more than willing to give her everything she’s been searching for in those books.

“You can’t… do this,” she whispers, but her voice is weak, her resolve crumbling. I can feel it. I can see it.

“I already have.” My hand tightens on her waist, pulling her flush against me, and I can feel the heat of her body, the way she trembles in my arms. “And I’ll do it again. For you.”

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t push me away. Her breathing is ragged, her chest rising and falling in time with the thundering beat of her heart. She’s conflicted, torn between the fear she should feel and the desire that’s been simmering under the surface all along.

But I know how this ends.