Little Love | Chapter VI (Patreon)

“This is a collection that I’ve curated for many years,” Lilith explained, turning another corner. As they traveled the twisting hallway and passed at least six closed doors, Tristan realized more and more how colossal her house was. But he’d still never seen a single window. “Most of it is very old, so I would ask that you treat these books as gently and carefully as you have treated me.”

Heat spread through Tristan’s face as he studied the floor. “Of course.”

Lilith opened a door that looked like any of the many other doors in the hallway, but when she turned on the lights, Tristan was transported. Rows and rows and rows of books stood on rosewood shelves from floor to ceiling. A red, velvet-covered love seat worked as a focal point in the center of the room, and luscious black carpet covered the white tile. Ancient-looking oil lamps that hung on the walls were dim, but afforded just enough light to read by. Lilith moved to an elaborate stereo system at the center of her shelves and switched on gentle, classical music.

“This is amazing,” Tristan breathed, running his fingers over the spines of a few books he knew and dozens he didn’t. Many of them he found bound in leather with elegant tooling etched into their surfaces.

With careful fingers, he pulled one free and flipped through the inked pages. This is actually parchment, he realized, rubbing one of the pages between his thumb and forefinger. He didn’t recognize the language scrawled in a delicate script from beginning to end. The tome looked centuries old, but it was somehow in pristine condition.

“I’ve read them all,” she said, looking longingly amongst her collection.

“But…how?” His eyes widened as he continued looking through the shelves. By his quick count, there were at least a thousand books—even finishing one every day would take years.

“I find myself with a lot of free time. Well, before you arrived, that is.” She giggled and touched his shoulder before sitting on the couch. Tristan blushed and continued down the line of spines before stopping at a particular binding that caught his eye.

“This is what I was reading when we met.” He skimmed the pages carefully to find the copyright, his breath catching when he did. “This is a first edition. That’s really hard to find.”

“Mhm,” Lilith hummed. Lilith didn’t bother to look at him; instead, she traced the embroidery on the couch with her fingertips.

“It’s one of my favorites,” Tristan murmured. He’d worn his copy to the brink. Some of the pages had to be taped back together, and the cover reglued.

“One of mine as well.” She crossed one long leg over the other. “If I recall correctly, I believe that particular edition is signed.”

Tristan turned to the front of the book, and sure enough, the author’s signature was there, bright as day. “But he’s been dead for fifty years.” He couldn’t hide the wonder in his voice. Finding an edition like this in pristine condition must have cost a fortune—it wasn’t exactly a niche book.

“Sometimes good things just fall into my lap.” Lilith always had a way with words. They paired well with her sly smile. “You can have it if you’d like.”

“Lilith, I couldn’t, this is worth more than my kidney—”

“While I would disagree, please accept it as my gift to you. The book is yours.” She swirled her wrist, circling a pointed finger in the air. “I will fill that space with something new.”

“I…I couldn’t possibly…” Tristan’s hands trembled around the cover. He had never received such an expensive gift before.

“You can, and you will,” Lilith said softly.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Tristan hugged the book to his chest. “Thank you.”

She reached over the back of the couch and pulled him close to her, brushing a hand through his hair and kissing the tip of his nose.

“I told you, anything that your heart desires is yours.” Her sultry undertones stirred Tristan’s heart to a furious pounding.

He needed to be closer to her. To feel her. He moved around the loveseat, set the book down on the table, and turned to face her. Before he could decide the best way to sit beside her, she reached out and took his hands, drawing him in, urging him to lie on top of her. His knees dug into the cushions between her thighs, and she straightened her legs, brushing her feet against his as she rested them behind him.

“Lilith… I really want to stay here with you.” His hands went to her face, fingertips tracing the lovely curve of her throat.

“Then stay,” she whispered. Her hands moved to her stomach and slowly untied her robe, parting the silk fabric to expose her breasts. Even after practically living with her nude, Tristan’s breath caught as his hands moved to cup her supple skin in his palms.

“But I… I don’t know…”

“Mmh…Why?” she moaned beneath his touch.

“I just— I have so many questions.” Logical thought was evaporating with each stroke of her fingers through his hair. His arms were bending, his head lowering. The scent of her skin flooded his lungs, begged for his tongue.

“Then let me answer them,” she murmured, her back arching into his touch.

He couldn’t resist her any longer. Later, then. I’ll ask her later. He kissed the top of her breast, her shoulder, her throat, then claimed her mouth. Instead of the careful optimism he constantly approached her with, Tristan let go of his inhibitions. He parted her lips with his tongue and kissed her deeply, massaging her breasts with his fingers.

“Tristan,” she sighed against his mouth, hands creeping beneath his shirt, nails tracing sharp lines down his back. “So eager.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, not wanting to break away from her lips. Parting her robe further, his hands trailed down her stomach and ventured to her voluptuous hips. He sank his fingertips into her skin and held her steady while grinding his hips against hers.

Lilith gasped inside their kiss.

Just one stupid piece of fabric kept him away from the one thing he hadn’t had the courage to do in two weeks. Her heat dampened the barrier, making it harder to control his hips. He couldn’t remember a time when he felt so utterly desperate. Sweat cooled his back, and his hands shook.   

Lilith pulled her mouth away and reached between Tristan’s arms to tug at the top of his boxers. “I’m sure you would enjoy yourself much more without these.” Stretching the elastic, she yanked the shorts down to his thighs.

If his excitement hadn’t been obvious before, it was now.

She wrapped her legs around his back and grasped his throbbing shaft. Tristan groaned and slid his lips to her ear.

“You’re so hard.” Lilith giggled, pumping him until he whimpered into her ear. “I know what it is that you need.” She lifted her hips to meet his, deliberately sliding him inch by inch inside of her hot, wet—

“Lilith, w-wait.” It was unbelievably difficult to hold his hips still. He gasped for air. His body begged him to continue, screamed for her depths, urged him to thrust to his heart’s content. But despite all of the physical pleasures he’d experienced, this was still somehow very different.

“Hmm? What is it, little love?” The languorous tone of her voice assumed nothing but patience, but her eyes searched him hungrily.

He wriggled backward until his shaft was freed from her body, much to the pounding in his ears’ dismay. “Is this safe? I mean… I don’t want you to…you know.” Words failed him, and the familiar hue of embarrassment crept to his cheeks. She laughed, but he knew it wasn’t at him. Regardless of how stupid he felt with his questions, she’d never mocked him.

“Yes, my sweet. You cannot impregnate me.” Her hand returned to his shaft, nurturing his erection with practiced fingers.

I…I can’t…? The thought was drowned in pleasure as she teased his tip at her opening. His legs shook, and the searing heat of her sent shivers down his spine. But… “H-hang on.”

“Tristan? Are you all right?”

For two weeks, he’d tried to tell her, and still, the truth tied knots in his throat. Even with her naked beneath him, with her hand on his cock, he was still sure that it would make her think less of him. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her.

“Would you like to stop?” Lilith asked gently, withdrawing her hips.

“I-I… No, that’s not it.” That’s the last thing I want. Tristan turned his head and nailed his gaze to the couch. He swallowed against the knots. Swallowed again to force them down and opened his mouth to force up the words. “It’s just… T-this is my first time.”

“I know it is,” Lilith said, kissing his cheek.

That wasn’t the reply he was expecting. At all. “W…What?”

“All we have done together was new to you, was it not?”

“Well, yes…”

“It would only stand to reason that this is new to you as well.” She brushed her hand through his hair and nibbled his ear. “We will begin slowly. If you want to stop, simply say, hm, ‘Pineapple.’”

“Pineapple?” He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and laughed at himself. “You aren’t mad, then? Or… Or disappointed?”

“Why ever would I be either? You’ve enjoyed our exploits up until now, haven’t you?”

“Yeah. I have. A lot.”

“Good. As have I. So let us enjoy this, too.” She brushed her mouth against his, tongue peeking out to trace the hard line of his lips. “Trust me.”

Tristan felt the tension seep from his limbs as she guided him inside of her, his fears abated. When their hips met, he gasped in surprise, gripping the loveseat’s fabric with white knuckles. She was a tight, red-hot fit unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

“Does that feel good?” Her expression said she knew, but she wanted to hear him say it.

“God, yes.” He pulled out of her by just a few inches before sliding back in, his entire body quivering with the sensation.

She took hold of his thighs and ground her hips against his, drawing desperate cries from his throat.

“That’s so intense,” he whimpered.

“You feel incredible,” she crooned in reply, nipping at his bottom lip, encouraging his pace with her legs wrapped tightly around him.

Despite the dozens of times she’d touched, teased, stroked, and brought him to orgasm in those two weeks, nothing compared to the feeling of being inside of her. Every nerve in his skin was on fire, all of his senses amplified. The sounds of her quick breaths and subdued moans, the sweet taste of her kiss, the delicate touch of her fingers caressing his skin; everything about her only fueled his craving. In just a few thrusts of his hips, he was already on the edge.

“I-I don’t think—ngh!—I’ll…I’ll last long,” he panted. He couldn’t control himself; his body moved with a much faster momentum than he thought possible.

“Then come for me.” Her smile was wicked, sharp, and beautiful. She raked her nails down the length of his spine, pain blending seamlessly into his pleasure. “Let me feel it.”

Another string of desperate, carnal groans escaped him, and she did nothing to slow him down. Soon, her cries joined his. Her entire being clenched around him, throbbing, pulsing, and he could no longer hold back.

Tristan encircled her waist, and he feverishly bucked inside her as his climax washed over him. Her lips found his, and their tongues danced while she ran her hands through her hair. The throbbing between her thighs stole every drop he had to offer, and while his thrusts slowed, it took some time for him to will them to stop.

At last, his heartbeat slowed, and he stole strained, shaking breaths from Lilith’s lips. Completely spent, he withdrew from her and repositioned himself so that his head lay on her chest in their tight embrace. She rested her legs on either side of his with a contented sigh.

“Did that feel good?” she asked after they’d shared a few moments of comfortable silence.

“That was amazing,” Tristan murmured. “I just wish I…I wish I could last longer, I guess.”

“We have plenty of time to train you.” She laughed quietly, and chills pricked his arms.

Despite having awoken so recently, he felt drained. That was normal, right? He closed his eyes, swearing that it would just be for a few minutes.

“Just relax, dearest one. You’ve nothing to worry about.” Her voice sounded so far away, mingling with the gentle music she’d switched on earlier. The thick heat he’d grown so accustomed to had followed them into the library. The weight of it surrounded him like a heavy quilt and carried him away into a dreamless sleep.