27. Lilith
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
I moved through the shelves, straightenin g stacks, running my fingers over the spines, letting the scent of paper and ink soothe the restless itch that was crackling just under the surface of my skin.
Maybe I was tired. Maybe it was the long shifts, the cold weather, the fact that I was surviving on caffeine and reckless decision-making.
Or maybe it was the fact that in just a few minutes, I’d lock up the store, and he’d be there. Waiting for me.
Not that I was looking forward to it. Obviously.
I was just mentally preparing myself for whatever broody bullshit he’d bring tonight. That was it. Nothing else.
I needed to finish up in the stacks, count the till, grab my stuff, turn off the lights. Simple. Easy.
But the bell above the door chimed.
Shit.
“Sorry, we’re closed!” My voice rang out, already prepared for the awkward shuffle of someone realising they’d missed the cut-off.
But no one responded.
The hairs on the back of my neck lifted.
I pressed my fingertips against the edge of the shelf, grounding myself in the feel of solid wood beneath my palms. It was fine.
Then I heard it. Not a response, not a quiet shuffle toward the exit.
Footsteps. Slow, measured footsteps.
Ice slithered down my spine, wrapping tight around my muscles. My pulse stuttered, instincts waking up, ready to make themselves known.
Phone. Where was my— right. In my bag. Behind the counter. Along with my common sense, apparently .
I shifted back, slipping deeper into the shelves. The glow from the streetlights barely reached this far, leaving most of the store wrapped in dim shadows.
Shit .
The floor creaked with slow, unhurried footsteps.
I swallowed hard, my heartbeat climbing straight into my throat.
Another step. Closer. Was I being circled?
I backed up, further, further—
Straight into a wall.
No. Not a wall.
Heat seeped through my clothes as solid hands found my waist, caging me in without force. My pulse jackknifed, body betraying me as I felt every inch of him behind me.
Sage and sea salt.
His voice fanned against my ear. “Close your eyes, Lilith.”
My lids fluttered shut, and a slow, shuddering breath left me.
Fabric brushed against my cheek, slipping into place, plunging me into darkness. His fingers skimmed my skin, tying the knot at the back of my neck.
“We can’t,” I whispered. “Not here.”
His breath fanned across the back of my neck. “Why?”
“The cameras.”
“Hmm. Good job I know how to wipe the feed isn’t it.”
“Oh, of course you—”
He spun me, body crowding mine, pressing me back until my spine hit the bookshelf with a soft thud.
And then he was kissing me. Red-hot, searing, devouring.
A sharp gasp was swallowed between our lips as my fingers twisted in his hoodie, yanking him closer.
Fuck, the way he kissed—like he needed it as much as he needed oxygen.
He gripped my hips, fingers flexing, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his teeth scraped my bottom lip, dragging a shudder straight through me.
My head tipped back against the shelf as his mouth dragged slow, open-mouthed kisses against my jaw and throat, grip tightening at my waist.
I sucked in a breath, thighs pressing together, desperate for friction, for relief, for more.
He kept going. Lower. His lips dragged along the curve of my shoulder before tracing a path down my arm. Goosebumps followed in his wake as his mouth skimmed the inside of my wrist, pressing a lingering kiss there before continuing down, across my palm, all the way to my fingertips.
Oh my God. He was sinking.
I grabbed for something, anything, fingers fumbling as I gripped onto the edge of the shelf.
His hands slid down my legs, fingers squeezing into my thighs before his fingers reached the hem of my skirt, pushing it higher, higher—
I sucked in a sharp breath as he tilted forward, pressing the most devastating kiss against my ankle.
The faint scrape of stubble dragged up my calf, rough and teasing before his mouth found the inside of my knee, lips barely brushing the skin.
“Can I?” he rasped against my already ruined nerves.
“Yes,” I answered, voice trembling.
He exhaled slowly, lips brushing over the fabric covering my pussy. A low, guttural noise rumbled in his chest as he did it again, and again. Slow, teasing kisses over the soaked lace, mouth lingering like he wanted to savour every single second.
Then— fuck.
He pressed his face into me and inhaled like he was trying to drown himself in my scent.
I nearly collapsed .
His fingertips skimmed my thighs, dragging my underwear down inch by painstaking inch.
Then he exhaled against my bare pussy, voice thick with a grin. “Cazzo, sei perfetta.”
Oh my good God. That was—was that Italian?
Was he speaking fucking Italian against my pussy?
“What—” my voice was barely there, breathless. “What did you just say?”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t even give me a second to breathe.
The first flick of his tongue almost killed me.
A strangled noise ripped from my throat, my body locking up as molten heat surged through my spine.
He was on his knees, gripping my thighs like he wanted to leave bruises, spreading me open so he could get closer, taste me properly.
His tongue moved slow at first. Then he switched—sharp, teasing flicks against my clit, followed by hot, wet kisses that had me gasping.
“Fuck, yes.” I reached down, tangling my fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, forcing his face deeper between my thighs.
“Brava,” he groaned against me, breath scorching hot against my skin. “That’s it. Ride my mouth. Let me drown in you. Make a damn mess of me.”
His fingers bit into my thighs harder, and I whined, my whole body tightening at the way he let me take what I wanted, let me use him, let me ride his mouth with no restraint.
He didn’t pull away. Didn’t try to slow me down.
No, he en couraged it—his grip dragging me deeper, his moans filthy and wrecked as he devoured me, licking and sucking like he was about to leave this planet, and I was his last meal.
His hand slipped under my knee, and he hiked my leg over his shoulder. I gasped, hips rolling deeper against his face. The shift in weight sent the bookshelf tilting, and a hardcover tumbled free, landing with a heavy thud.
I jolted at the sound, but his grip only tightened.
“Fuck the books,” he muttered as he flicked his tongue just to make me whimper. “I want to hear you, not them.”
Books crashed around us, slamming against wood, hitting the floor in a cascade of hardcovers and pages, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t pause. Didn’t even flinch. If anything, it only made him hungrier.
“Cazzo—” he groaned. “You want me like this? Want to use me? Then fucking use me, Lilith. Do whatever the fuck you want with me.”
Oh my God. His words. They were filth. Pure, delicious filth.
“That’s it. Soak me. Wreck me,” he groaned against me. “Give me everything.”
A sharp gasp ripped from me as I rolled my hips, dragging myself across his tongue, and he whimpered, hands gripping my ass, guiding me.
His tongue lashed at me, licking, sucking, his nose pressing firm against me as he devoured me whole. “Please, let me have you, let me taste your come.”
“Yes—fuck—yes—” I wasn’t even sure who the words were coming from as my orgasm ripped through me.
He took it all—guiding me through the aftershocks, sucking, worshipping, fucking thanking me.
“Thank you,” he groaned against me, his voice breaking. “Thank you. Thank you.”
I shivered, still pulsing around nothing, the aftershocks rolling through me.
His voice was raspy, barely there. “Was I good for you?”
I hummed, still catching my breath. “Hmmm?”
His hands tensed, flexing against my ass. “Say it,” he pleaded. “Tell me I was good for you. Tell me I made you come the way you needed— cazzo —tell me I can do it again. Please, Lilith.”
Oh. Oh.
Holy shit .
My pulse hammered. I couldn’t see a damn thing, but I felt everything. The ragged rise and fall of his chest, his fingers twitching against my skin like he was barely holding on, the thick heat of his breath ghosting over me.
Something deep in my stomach flipped, tightened, a heat curling low at the way he had just offered himself up so completely.
I licked my lips, voice barely above a whisper. “You were goo d.”
His entire body tensed. “Say it again.”
I smirked. “You were so, so good for me.”
A low, wrecked sound tore from his throat.
Then he moved.
No hesitation. No warning. Just force.
Strong hands gripped and lifted. I was weightless. A gasp ripped from my lips, body jolting from the sheer power of him manhandling me like I was nothing .
The cool press of wood met my bare ass and my body shuddered.
Cold against heat.
Hard against soft.
Him against me.
And fuck— I wanted more.