The Library

Sebastian

I watched the change in her. It’s like this is who she’s always been, but she needed someone to rip it out of her, to show her the truth. And that someone is me. She’s always belonged to the darkness, always been mine. But watching her kneel there in front of that cross, seeking forgiveness from something that doesn’t even exist—it’s intoxicating. My cock is hard just looking at her like this. It’s been a while since I’ve done this with her, watching from the shadows, letting her slip into that place where she thinks she has control. But this moment, this dark reverence, this is who she is. Who she will always be.

I followed her into the cathedral.

She doesn’t know it, but I’m never too far away. I only let her think she’s got space, like she’s free to roam wherever she pleases. I’ve always kept her close, ever since I made her mine. Today was no different. She went out shopping, thinking she was alone. I had business to take care of with Ty, the kind of work I couldn’t bring her into, not yet, not fully. But the second I was done, I tracked her down. The location pinged on my phone, the small tracker in her neck giving me her exact coordinates.

I’ve told her before—she can’t hide from me. And it’s not that I don’t trust her. It’s that I can’t trust the world around her.

So when I saw her walking into the cathedral, I parked and followed. Something about the irony of listening to “Take Me To Church” by Hozier playing in my car as she walked into a church stirred something inside of me. Something about seeing her head toward that ancient, holy building made my blood run hot. She had no idea I was behind her, watching, as I always do. Letting her think she has some sliver of freedom. But she doesn’t. She belongs to me.

As I stepped inside the cathedral, I kept to the shadows. It’s where I thrive, where I watch, where the darkness coils around me like a second skin. And now, I’m watching her again. She kneels at the front, beneath the looming cross, her head bowed like she’s seeking something—peace, clarity, maybe even forgiveness. But all I see is how fucking hard my cock is at the sight of her on her knees.

I look at the cross, then back at her. She’s on her knees, praying, her head bowed, fingers clutching those beads like they might save her. The innocence in her posture makes my blood run hot. It’s twisted, really—how she thinks praying to some made-up god will grant her forgiveness for whatever transgressions she thinks she’s committed. But she’s wrong. So fucking wrong. Forgiveness isn’t what she needs.

No, she needs to be fucked so hard it either sends her to Heaven or drags her straight to Hell.

She thinks this will give her answers, this little moment of quiet prayer. But nothing she prays to in here will save her. No god, no saint. The only one who can give her what she needs is me.

The moment I saw her slip into this church, something primal took over. She didn’t even notice me at first, too caught up in whatever she was doing, clutching those rosary beads like they’d help her find peace. But there’s no peace for her, not with me. I’m going to make sure of that. I’ll remind her of who she is, who I am, and where she belongs. Which is bent over while I fuck her until I tell her she can come.

The only prayer she’s going to cry out is my name.

As I step closer, I can see her body tense, like she knows I’m here. She always knows, even when I give her space, even when I let her believe she has distance. She never does. I’ll always find her. And now, here in this cathedral, I’ll show her exactly what that means.

I look at the cross that towers over her and then back at her, my gaze lingering on the way she kneels, the way her back curves, her lips moving in silent prayer. A dark smile tugs at my lips as I watch, a fire burning in my chest.

Did she really think she could find salvation here? In a place like this?

The sound of her whispers, her prayers, only fuels me more. I’m already hard just watching her, my mind spinning with all the things I’ll do to her, right here, right now. She thinks this will cleanse her soul, but what she really needs is for me to drag her down into the darkness. And that’s exactly what I’m about to do.

With a few strides, I close the distance between us, standing right behind her as she kneels. Her fingers are still wrapped around those beads, but I know what she really needs—something far darker, far more sinful. Something only I can give her.

“Lilith…” I whisper, my voice low, filled with dark amusement. “I thought you knew that when you cried out for a god to save you, I’d be the only one who answered, darling.”

She stiffens, her back straightening as my voice wraps around her like a noose. I lean down, my lips brushing her ear as I take the rosary beads from her hand, gently, feeling the tension radiating off her. She’s not scared. She’s turned on. And fuck if that doesn’t make me even harder.

“There’s only one way these beads will make you feel good, Lilith,” I murmur, my voice a dark growl as I let the beads slip through my fingers, their smooth surface gliding against her skin. “And it doesn’t involve praying. But you will be begging… begging for someone to save your soul.”

She doesn’t say a word, but the way her breath hitches, the way her body responds to my touch, tells me everything I need to know. She’s mine, even more so now that she’s on her knees in this church, thinking she needs salvation. But I know what she really needs.

She kneels before me, her eyes wide and searching, and for a moment, I simply stand there, taking her in. The way she looks at me, as if I were some kind of god in this place that reeked of judgment and piety, only makes me want her more. She doesn’t belong in a church, not any more than I do, but there she is, kneeling like a sinner confessing to the one who already knew all her sins.

“,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly as she gazes up at me.

The sound of my name on her lips, in this place, hits me hard. She was praying to me, whether she realized it or not. And that’s exactly how it should be. I can see the realization flicker across her face—the way her body shifts, like she finally understands. She doesn’t worship gods, not here or anywhere else. She worships me. Not in the way people pray to something distant and untouchable, but in a way that was real, raw, and unbreakable. She’d confess her darkest thoughts to me, knowing I’d take everything from her and still demand more.

I crouch down beside her, my fingers brushing over her soft cheek. The warmth of her skin sent a familiar heat coursing through me, that primal need to claim her, over and over again. I lean in, letting my lips hover just above hers, teasing her with the closeness, the tension between us thickening.

“You don’t need clarity, Lilith,” I whisper, my voice low, dark. “You need me.”

Her breath hitches, and for a second, I can feel her uncertainty—just a flicker of it, a moment of hesitation. And then she speaks, her voice soft and breathless. “, you followed me into a church?”

I chuckle, the sound dark and full of amusement. She’s surprised? Thrilled? It doesn’t matter. She is mine, wherever she goes, even into a place like this.

“Oh, darling,” I say, my voice smooth as I rise to my full height, towering over her, “don’t you know the devil was an angel first?”

I can see the way my words sink into her, the way her body responds to the weight of them. Her heart was pounding—I can practically hear it in the quiet of the church. She knows. She always does. I’m not bound by the rules of this world, or the next. I’m not some god confined by stained glass and ancient prayers. I am the man who claimed her, over and over, and I don’t need a church to remind her of that.

I tilt her chin up gently, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I don’t do churches, Lilith,” I murmur, letting the intensity of my words settle over her, watching the way her eyes widen just slightly.

I lean in, brushing my lips against her ear as I whisper the truth she needs to hear. “But I do you.”

Her pulse quickens, and I can feel her tension, her need. It is the same pull that has always been between us—impossible to ignore, stronger than anything these walls could ever contain. She is mine, no matter where we stood, and I’d follow her into the darkness, into the light, into the spaces in between. There isn’t a place I won’t claim her. And as I stand over her, my lips close to her skin, I know that this—us—is the only thing that matters.

“Get up,” I order, pulling her to her feet, leading her toward the confessional booth. She stumbles slightly but doesn’t resist, doesn’t fight me. She knows what’s coming. She’s been waiting for it.

Inside the booth, the space is tight, dark, filled with the scent of old wood and incense. It’s intimate, suffocating, the perfect place to remind her of who I am. Of who she is with me.

I push her up against the wall, her body pressed flush against the wooden panel, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as I run my hand up her thigh, slipping beneath her dress. She’s already wet, soaked for me, and it makes me grin, the thrill of knowing how badly she needs this sending a jolt of lust straight through me.

“Confess to me, Lilith,” I growl in her ear, my fingers teasing her pussy as I press her harder against the wall. “Tell me your sins.”

Her whimper is barely audible, her voice breaking as she whispers, “I need you.”

That’s all I needed to hear.

In one swift motion, I lift her dress and rip her panties off and shove them into my pocket, I’ll be keeping those for later. Red marks are already on her beautiful, delicate skin where I just ripped them off. Positioning myself behind her, my cock already throbbing with the need to claim her again, to remind her of who she belongs to.

Before I thrust into her, I glance at the rosary beads in my hand. A dark idea flickers through my mind. I smirk as I bring the beads to her pussy, sliding them against her slick folds, teasing her with the sensation. Her body jerks in response, a gasp escaping her lips as the cold beads make contact with her heated cunt.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” I murmur darkly, my voice dripping with amusement. “You thought these were for praying, but this is how they’ll bring you to salvation.”

I slowly push the rosary beads into her, watching her body arch as the sensation sends shock waves through her. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, as I fuck her with the beads, each movement making her cry out in pleasure.

“…” she gasps, her voice trembling as her body shakes beneath my touch.

“You’re going to come like this, Lilith,” I growl, my lips brushing her ear as I thrust the beads deeper inside her. “You’re going to come with these beads inside you, and then I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name like the prayer it is.”

Her body trembles, and I can feel her teetering on the edge. I pull the beads out slowly, teasing her, making her whimper in protest. Then, without warning, I slam into her, my cock filling her completely as her cry of pleasure echoes off the walls of the confessional.

“You think some god is going to save you?” I hiss, my lips brushing against her ear as I slam into her again and again. “You think praying will make you whole? I’m the only one who can do that. I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.”

Her cries grow louder, her body arching back into me as I fuck her harder, the force of it sending waves of pleasure through both of us. I slide my hand between her legs, rubbing her clit as I drive into her, feeling her body tighten around me, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You’re mine, Lilith,” I growl, my hand wrapping around her throat, pulling her back against me as I fuck her deeper. “You belong to me. And you’ll always fucking belong to me.”

With one last hard thrust, I come, groaning as the pleasure surges through me, my body shaking with the intensity of it as I come inside her tight cunt. She falls apart around me, her body trembling as she cries out, the orgasm ripping through her.

We don’t have as much time here as I would have liked. I would have taken my time, fucked her slowly, let her beg for it. But this is enough. Enough to remind her of who she is. Of who we are.

As I pull out and adjust myself, I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. “Don’t ever forget, Lilith,” I whisper in her ear. “I’m the only god you’ll ever need. The only one who can save you. Or destroy you.”

With that, I leave her there, still shaking, her breath ragged as she pulls herself together. I step back into the shadows of the cathedral, watching her, knowing that she’ll never escape me. She’s mine. Forever. Here I am, back in the dark. That’s where the monsters stay, and that’s exactly what I am. A fucking monster. I lean against the stone wall of the cathedral, the shadows wrapping around me like an old friend, my gaze locked on her. The cross looms over her like a silent witness, but it’s not god she needs. It’s me.

I step back into the shadows of the cathedral, my eyes still locked on Lilith, her body trembling, trying to piece herself together. She’s beautiful, broken, and mine—just the way I want her. The dim light casts the large cross in stark contrast to her figure, but I know, deep down, it’s not god she’s seeking. She was looking for a sign— that this was the life she was meant for. And I just gave her that sign. The thought sends a shiver of satisfaction down my spine.

I linger a moment longer, watching her, knowing she’ll never be able to escape me. I’ve bound her soul to mine in ways she doesn’t even fully understand yet. And she’ll always come back. Because I’m not just her lover—I’m her savior. Her god. The one who can ruin her, save her, or destroy her in the blink of an eye.

Slipping out of the cathedral, I pull my jacket tighter against the chill of the night air, my mind already shifting from the pleasure we just shared to what comes next. There’s a spot on my body that’s still bare, still untouched by ink. A space I’ve kept empty, waiting for the right moment. And tonight, it’s time to fill it.

As I make my way through the quiet streets back to my car, my mind flickers back to the image of her—on her knees, wrists tied in front of her perfect tits, tears streaking down her face as she stared up at me with that mixture of lust and desperation that only I can pull out of her. It’s burned into my memory, that look. The perfect fucking reminder of who she is to me. Who I am to her.

I pull out my phone, scrolling through the photos I’ve taken of her until I find the one I’m looking for. It’s a photo from that night when I had her on her knees in front of me, completely at my mercy. Her eyes are red from crying, her wrists bound tightly, the perfect image of submission and defiance all wrapped up in one. The picture alone sends a surge of heat through my body, but I’ve got something more in mind.

The tattoo shop comes into view, the familiar neon sign flickering in the window. I push open the door, the scent of ink and sterilized metal hitting me as I step inside. My guy, Marcus, looks up from behind the counter, his face splitting into a grin.

“,” he says, nodding toward me. “What brings you in tonight? Got something new in mind?”

I walk up to the counter, sliding my phone across the glass. “Yeah. I need this tattooed. On my stomach. And I want you to add a rosary to her hands.”

Marcus picks up the phone, his eyes scanning the image. He whistles low, shaking his head as he looks at the photo. “Jesus, man. That’s intense.”

I smirk, leaning against the counter. “It’s perfect.”

Marcus studies the photo for a moment longer before nodding. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

I strip off my shirt as he preps his tools, the cold air biting at my skin. My body is already covered in tattoos—each one a mark of something significant, something I needed to remember. But this one… this one is different. This one is for her.

As Marcus starts the outline, the needle buzzing against my skin, my mind drifts back to Lilith. To the way she looked tonight, standing beneath that cross, her body shaking with the aftermath of what I’d just done to her. The rosary added to her hands? That’s not just for show. It’s a reminder. A symbol that no one—not even god—can save her now. She’s mine, body and soul.

The pain of the tattoo is nothing compared to the fire burning inside me. With each stroke of the needle, I feel that sense of ownership grow stronger. She’s imprinted on me, not just in ink, but in blood. In every twisted part of who I am. And now, I’ll carry her with me, on my skin, as a permanent reminder that no one will ever come between us.

When Marcus finishes, I look down at the fresh ink, my lips curving into a satisfied smirk. The image of her is perfect—her tied wrists, the tears, and now the added rosary wrapped around her hands, completing the vision I had in mind.

Marcus steps back, wiping down the fresh ink. “You happy with it?”

I nod, standing up and stretching, feeling the sting of the fresh tattoo on my skin. “More than happy.”

As I head for the door, I can’t help but think of what Lilith will say when she sees it. Or how she’ll react when she realizes I’ve branded her into my flesh. Forever.

Because no matter what happens, no matter where she runs or how far she tries to go, she’ll never be able to escape me.

I’m her god. And I’m the only one who can save her—or destroy her.

And that, more than anything, is what makes this perfect.