The Library

Lilith

I step into my apartment, the door clicking shut behind me with a finality that sends a shiver down my spine. The silence feels too heavy, too thick compared to the chaos and heat of the night. But no matter how quiet it gets in here, my mind can’t drown out the echoes of what just happened. My body is still trembling from Sebastian’s touch, from the way he whispers my name like a promise, like he already owns me.

I can still feel his hands on my skin, his lips brushing against mine. His presence lingers in the air, wrapping around me like a dark cloud I can’t escape, and I can’t shake it. I don’t want to. His touch is burned into me, a brand I didn’t ask for but now crave with every breath. It’s as if he’s seeped into my veins, pulsing through me, and no matter how hard I try, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to pull him out.

Worse still—I’m not even sure I want to.

I lean back against the door, my breath shaky, my heart pounding in my chest. My body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve lit up from the way he looks at me, the way his hands feel on my skin.

God, I want him.

It’s dangerous, this pull he has over me. But no matter how much I try to push the thoughts away, they keep creeping back in, like shadows that won’t let me go.

I strip off my clothes, tossing them aside, feeling the cool air hit my skin. My bra and panties feel like too much, like they’re trapping the heat of my body, but I leave them on for now. I glance at my reflection in the mirror, my chest still heaving from the intensity of everything. My nipples are hard beneath the lace, and my skin is flushed from the heat of his touch, the desire still coursing through me.

I reach for my phone, my fingers trembling as I pull up his number. I hesitate for a second, my thumb hovering over the screen, unsure if I should send the message. But I can’t help it. I need him to know how badly I want him, how much I’m thinking about him.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

I hit send before I can second-guess myself. The message is out there now, and my heart races as I toss my phone onto the bed. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but the thought of him knowing what he does to me only makes the ache between my legs stronger. Just the thought of him reading my words, knowing the effect he has on me, sends a pulse of heat through my core.

I step over to the bed, the anticipation building inside me. I sit on the edge, my hands trembling as they move over my body, my fingers grazing the lace of my bra. I may be a virgin, but I’m no stranger to the kind of pleasure that comes from knowing exactly how to touch myself. You don’t get this old without learning how to chase pleasure on your own.

But this is different. This is darker, more dangerous. I know I’m dancing with the devil, but I can’t stop. He’s gotten inside my head, and like the devil does best… he’s now in my soul.

My breath catches as I slip my hand beneath the lace, feeling the hardness of my nipples, already aching from the mere thought of him. I imagine his hands instead of mine, rough and commanding, taking what he wants without hesitation. My hand slides down between my thighs, and I gasp as I press against the damp fabric of my panties, feeling how wet I already am. Fuck.

I spread my legs wider, my body trembling with need as my fingers tease the edge of my panties. It’s not enough—nothing is enough without him. I want him to be the one doing this, to hear him whisper dark promises in my ear while he pushes me to the brink. I want to feel his fingers inside me, stretching me, filling me, claiming me in ways I’ve only ever imagined.

But tonight, I’m alone, left to the mercy of my own desire, the craving for him growing with each touch. My fingers slip beneath the fabric, and I gasp at the sensation, already lost in the fantasy of him, of the things he’d do to me if he were here.

I close my eyes, leaning back on the bed, imagining it’s him touching me instead of me doing it myself. I start to fuck myself, pressing my fingers against my clit, circling it slowly at first, teasing myself, building up the pleasure just like I know he would. My breath catches, and I can’t stop the small moans that escape my lips as I rub myself harder, the wetness seeping through my panties.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” his words echo in my head, and the image of him watching me, telling me how badly he wants to fuck me in every hole, takes over my mind.

The tension builds quickly, my fingers working faster as I fuck myself harder, my hips lifting off the bed, desperate for release. I can feel it, the orgasm rising inside me like a tidal wave, and I bite my lip, moaning his name as I imagine him here, watching me, his eyes dark and full of lust.

“Sebastian, ” I whisper, my voice shaking with need.

I fuck myself faster, my body trembling, every nerve on fire. I’m so close, teetering on the edge, and the thought of him fucking me, owning me, pushes me over. The orgasm crashes through me, and I cry out, my body shaking, my fingers slick with my own arousal as I ride out the waves of pleasure.

“ Sebastian ,” I gasp again, my back arching off the bed as I come hard, the release sending shock waves through me.

I lie there, my chest heaving, my body trembling from the intensity of it all. But even as the pleasure fades, the need for him doesn’t. If anything, it’s stronger now. I want more. I want him.

I roll onto my side, my body still buzzing with the aftershocks of my orgasm, but my mind is racing. The memory of his touch, the way he kisses me so gently when I know he’s a man who isn’t gentle—it’s all I can think about.

I close my eyes, drifting off to sleep with the thought of him still lingering in my mind. Even in my dreams, he’s there, his hands on my body, his mouth on mine. And as I sleep, I moan his name again, lost in the fantasy of what could have been tonight.