The Library

Sebastian

I t hasn’t even been one day since I touched her, and already, the need to do it again is consuming me. I can still feel the heat of her body under my fingertips, her scent lingering in my mind like a drug. The moment she steps into The Library, that same pulse of hunger races through me, stronger than before, impossible to ignore. She’s my addiction now, the one I can’t quit, and I’m not even trying to fight it.

“How ironic that the place we first met will be the first place I fuck her,” I whisper to myself, my lips curling into a smile. It won’t be with my cock, but she will come for me again. The irony isn’t lost on me. This place, her precious sanctuary, will become the scene of her undoing. I’ve been patient, but it’s only a matter of time before she realizes what’s happening. I’ve already claimed her in every way that matters; now, I’m just waiting for the right moment to take what’s mine.

She moves gracefully through the aisles, completely oblivious to me. Her body is humming with energy, and even from a distance, I can feel her pull. I follow her, staying just far enough behind that she won’t notice, but close enough that I could reach out and grab her if I wanted to. Every step she takes draws me in deeper, and I’m already imagining what’s going to happen next.

Her fingers skim the spines of the books as she walks down the aisles, and I make a mental note of every title she pauses to look at. Dark romances, stories filled with forbidden desire, control, and power. She’s drawn to them like a moth to a flame, and she doesn’t even know it yet. These books? They’re her fantasies laid bare, and I’m going to make sure she experiences every single one of them.

Fuck, the things I’ll do to her.

When she finally makes her way to the back corner of the store, to the section filled with the filthiest novels, I have to bite back a laugh. That’s my girl. Always drawn to the darkness, always hiding it behind that sweet, innocent exterior. I watch her fidget with the hem of her dress, her eyes scanning the titles like she’s trying to choose the perfect sin.

She’s nervous. I can see it in the way her fingers twitch as she reaches for one of the books, hesitating before picking it up. She flips through the pages, and her lips part slightly as she reads, her breath quickening just a fraction. She’s already getting lost in the fantasy, imagining herself in the place of the heroine, being claimed, dominated, used.

My cock throbs, hard and ready just from watching her. It’s stupid how much control she has over me without even realizing it. The sight of her standing there, innocent and unknowing, with that book of dark desires in her hand… It’s almost too much.

She looks so fucking pure. Like she doesn’t belong in this world of shadows and sin. But I know better. She belongs to me, and I belong to the darkness. And soon, she’ll understand that, too.

She looks like something holy, something only a god would craft with his own hands—if there were a god. But there isn’t. There’s only me, and I’m the one who’s going to tear that innocence apart, piece by piece. She may look untouched, like a divine creation made for worship, but she’s meant to be devoured, corrupted. And I’m the one who’ll do it.

I lean against the bookshelf, my eyes never leaving her. She places the book back on the shelf, her fingers lingering on the cover for a moment too long. I can tell she’s aroused, even from here. The way she shifts her weight, biting her lip as if trying to control her thoughts. It’s adorable how she tries to suppress the desire building inside her, but I see through her. She wants it. She wants me.

Fuck, the way she looks… so sweet, so innocent. And yet, she’s reading those filthy books, filled with the kind of things that would make a good girl blush. I wonder if she blushes when she touches herself, if she thinks about the things she reads while her fingers slip between her thighs. I know she’s thought about me while fucking herself. I want to be the one who brings those dirty fantasies to life for her, the one who makes her feel things she’s only ever imagined.

She has no idea how much I’ve watched her. From the comfort of my own home, watching her on my monitors through the cameras I put in her apartment. How many nights I’ve spent outside her apartment, slipping in when she wasn’t home, learning everything about her. I know her routine, her friends, her family. Hell, I even know how she organizes her bookshelves.

Last night, I watched from my phone as she fucked herself in her room, thinking she was alone. Crying out for me like I was the only thing that could save her. I smirked, knowing that was a false hope. I won’t save her—salvation isn’t what I offer. But I will make her cry out for me again, begging for mercy, as I fuck her so hard that she’ll forget what it ever felt like to be untouched.

That night in here, when she bumped into me, was no accident. I’d been watching her long before she ever saw me. I knew she would be there. I always know where she is. But that night, something happened. I wasn’t supposed to get so close. I wasn’t supposed to let her see me yet.

But the way she bit her lip as she scanned the shelves, the way her eyes sparkled with excitement when she found the book she was looking for… I couldn’t help myself. I got closer than I should have. I wanted to be near her, to feel the spark between us. And when she turned around, startled, and met my gaze for the first time, I knew she felt it too.

I wasn’t ready for her to notice me then. But now? I’m more than ready.

The tension between us is almost unbearable, the pull stronger than ever. She’s right there, so close, and all I want to do is fuck her, to finally claim what’s mine. But I’m not going to rush it. Not yet. The anticipation is half the fun.

She moves to leave the aisle, and I watch her go, my eyes tracing the curve of her perfectly round ass as she walks away. I’ve waited this long. What’s a little more time?

But soon, I’ll make her mine in every way possible.