Obsessor Pt 01

I can't believe I'm here. But then again, I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away. What am I hoping will happen? Honestly, maybe I'd just like another glimpse of the two figures I saw here before. They were absolutely striking- beautiful men that forced the air of the library to change with the demand of their barest presence. I can't be sure, but I think one had long dark hair, and the other must've had a sandy blond thing going on. The first and last time I saw them, I went home and painted what vague details I got from the glimpse I stole. The images of them have haunted me ever since.

The tall dark shelves tower over me as I walk through the aisles. Darker walls with accents of red and brown and black force a dark academia glamour onto my senses, and I can't help but feel transported to another world. There are candles scattered here and there, and I let out an amused huff. Do the librarians here not think of fire hazards? To think of it now, though, I haven't seen an actual librarian. Only those two strangers.

I spend an hour walking through the many aisles, picking up books and barely reading them before moving onto another section. I could never count the number of books in here- it's the biggest library I've ever been to and it seems to never end. The air is stale and full of incense at the same time. It isn't entirely unpleasant. In fact, my head is beginning to get hazy and I feel a little warm.

Eventually, I find a large oak table in the middle of everything. Four chairs with tall backs border its edges, the wood carved with intricate images. Books are strewn about and two are open, as if suddenly abandoned. My heart beats a little faster.

The candles flicker and dance, tossing shadows around me and disorienting me. A scent fills my nostrils. My head is a little fuzzy, I'm a little dizzy. Is it rosemary? It smells incredibly herbal. I suddenly feel amazing; as if I'm floating, as if my limbs have no weight and every stress that ever plagued me has dissipated. I giggle.

I turn to look around me, I slowly spin, spin, spin until my gaze snags on something, but I can't make it out because it disappears behind the large shelves just as fast. It looked like a leather duster with a red interior. The dark walls and shelves around me seem to close in. My heart is beating fast, my chest is heaving-- when did I get so scared? I was just fine, I'm still fine, it's going to be okay, I tell myself. Of course I'll be okay-

I twirl around again and there is a man sitting at the table. The dark-haired one with the curls from before. Tendrils of tattoos splay out from beneath his hairline on his temples, and they border from his skull to his chest and they disappear under his shirt, then finally splay out among his arms to his fingers. His fingernails are painted black. And his gaze, my god, his gaze might bring me to my knees right now, because he is looking at me with so much heat that I feel something inside of me ignite.

I don't know why I do it, but I step toward the table and I take a seat. I'm still feeling fuzzy and my body is telling me to be scared but I can't listen to it right now, not with the delicious stranger so close, only the barrier of the table separating us. I never act so wanton. There is something about him, about his glowing eyes which I can't discern the color, the way he is just staring at me and hasn't said a word--

"How did you get in here?" Oh god, his voice is a rumble made of velvet.

Confidence zings through me as I lean my elbows on the table, giving him quite a glimpse of what's under my blouse. "I walked in."

He shakes his head once. The movement is tense, "No, you did not."

"I did," I assure him. His gaze flicks to my lips, to my neck, lower.

"People don't just walk in here, love."

"Is it not a public library?" I sweetly ask.

"Not as public as is advertised," he rumbles.

I lean back in the chair, "A private library with the guise of being public? How scandalous."

He tilts his head at me. A smirk begins to take hold of his mouth, but his eyes flicker behind me and then thinks better of it.

"I think it's time for you to go," He stands from the table. Comes over to my side, and pulls my chair out for me.

I remain seated and say, "I don't. I haven't even picked a book to take home with me yet. I'm already here; don't I have the right to check out a book or two? I promise to bring them back." I lift my head toward his height and a wicked smile creeps onto my face. What the hell am I doing? I never talk so brazenly to strange men.

He slowly leans down, trapping me into place by putting his hands on either side of my head. He's gripping the back of the chair so hard that I hear it creak. I look up at him, brave, though my body is slightly trembling. His arms are so close to me that I could turn my head and lick his wrist.

"You want to talk about your rights here? Consider this a lawless land where you're concerned," He stands up, "I'd advise leaving now. You don't want to see what kind of rights you do or don't have if you end up staying."

"Maybe I do," the words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

"Oh, let her be," a new voice chimes. It's deep and playful. Full of mischief. "Perhaps she wants to have fun. Don't you, dear?"

The sandy blond steps out from behind a shelf and my gaze travels along his stature, the way he languidly walks, his smirk, and the joke that seems to be behind his eyes.

"I think she should leave," Dark Hair says.

"Mm-mm. Let her stay. We could have fun." Sandy Blond says.

"If I don't leave," I ask, "What happens then?"

Dark Hair leans forward and grasps my chin in his hand, "Ruination."

Sandy Blond laughs and walks up behind my chair, then puts his hands on my shoulders. His fingers are strong and warm and the barest touch from him is making me clench my thighs together. Dark Hair smirks and looks deeply into my eyes.

Things are getting fuzzy again. I can't tear my eyes from his. My head swims in the most delightful way, my limbs are slightly buzzing, and I do my best to stand up. I need to use the table to steady myself, but my hand slips off of the edge. Sandy Blond catches me from behind the moment I stumble.

His arms are strong, warm, and firm. One wraps around my waist, the other wraps under my arm and cradles my neck. I am tucked against his body, and I swear I can feel every single sinew of muscle that is on him.

"What are your--" the words stop tumbling out of me when I feel Sandy Blond inhale against the skin of my neck.

"Names?" Dark Hair finishes for me. He moves to tower over me, over the man behind me, and he tilts his face down to mine.

"You can call me Einar. Him," Einar juts his chin toward Sandy Blond, "you may call Linus."

"Linus." His name breathlessly leaves my throat as I feel him press hard against me. He nips my neck with his teeth, playful, and then grips my throat.

Einar drops to his knees in front of me and pulls the hem of my shirt right above my navel. His lips are hot against my skin, he's licking my hip-bones slowly as he moves up, up, up to my sternum. He plants a gentle kiss there, then speaks. The echo of his voice is captured and subdued by the hundreds of books surrounding us.

"What are you doing here, darling?"

Linus answers before I can so much as open my mouth. "She's searching for ruination."

Einar hums, the note low in his throat, and then says, "Is that it? Would you like to be ruined?"

I want to shake my head, but my brain is foggy and my limbs are thrumming with energy. I also want to nod. I do neither.

"Can you hear the war inside of her, brother? Just listen to that rapid heartbeat." Linus chuckles below his breath. He inhales against my neck again and my knees slightly buckle. His arms keep me from stumbling. A moan escapes me.

"I most certainly can. A delicious, delectable war of the senses."

My head falls back against Linus's chest.

"How do you feel, dear?" Einar asks me.

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. I try and I try to speak, but Linus keeps caressing my waist, my hips, my back, and it steals the breath from me. Einar drags his fingers along my ribcage, up the sides of my breasts, then to my jaw.

He grabs my face and tilts me up to him.

"Answer the question." The words are firm. Demanding.

My head is swimming with confusion, with desire, with need. An insatiable pull is boomeranging me between the two of them.

"I feel... dizzy."

Einar and Linus give each other the same wolfish smile. Are those canines glinting against the soft light casted by the candles?

"Good," Linus purrs in my ear. His hands are all over me and he's pulling me back against his hardness.

Einar watches us with hungry eyes. His teeth graze his bottom lip, the movement captivating me.

I lean into the sweet touches Linus gives me and I crook my finger at Einar, then signal for him to come closer still.

To my slight surprise, he obeys. I watch him as he slowly leans close, closer, closer, until his lips are right above mine and his eyes reflect the beats within. I lean forward.

The moment that my tongue touches his bottom lip, a slight and desperate groan escapes his throat. He presses against me, into Linus, and steps us backwards until we all stop against a bookshelf. Linus grunts when his back makes contact with the wood and tomes bound in leather.

I place my hands on either side of Einar's face and pull him into mine. My lips softly slant against his. I feel the velvet of his skin against me, I breathe in his exhale, and I moan when he presses his body against mine. I am crushed between them. Heat radiates from every angle against my skin. Heaving chests jostle me where I am and deep moans tickle my ears. There is only the noise of us among the burning candles, the books, and the dust.

"Linus." Einar starts.

"Yes, brother?"

"Blind her and take her to the chambers."

I do not have time to ask what the chambers are before Linus places his large hand against my eyes. I don't gasp, I don't breathe, I do nothing but allow Linus to lead me to this mysterious destination.

His legs kick mine forward, forcing me to walk with him in tandem.

He leans into my ear and whispers. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

I grin against the darkness. These two have no idea that I absolutely do.

Moments later, Linus removes his hand from my face and shoves me forward, into a large, dim room. My feet do not falter. A magnificent wooden bedrame with four tall posts houses a mattress and dark purples silk sheets. I can't help but notice that it looks as though it has been slept in, or used, recently.

My eyes wander the room. There's an obscene amount of candles littered about, on tables, the floors, the wall-to-wall wide steps that lead up to the bed. Some that are in sconces against the wall have layers and layers of burnt candles in them. It's a warm atmosphere. It's also daring.

I turn around just in time to see Einar, instead of Linus, standing behind me. A glance back to the bed shows that Linus is leaning on his elbow, the palm of his hand supporting his face, sprawled out like dinner. My gaze follows the black carpet back behind me to Einar's shoes.

"You two really like purple?" I comment on the dark purple sheets, the lavender walls.

"You could say that," Einar answers.

He steps toward me. His hands find my waist and encircle it, spreading warmth and desire across my skin and skittering up my spine.

Einar leans his face toward mine, centimeters from kissing me when I say:

"Get on the bed."

He blinks at me in surprise.

"What?"

"I said," stepping aside for him and pointing to the mattress, "Get. On. The. Bed."

An arrogant chuckle floats beneath his breath. "No, no, no. You don't tell me what to do. It's the other way--"

"I won't fucking say it again. Get on the bed, Einar." Authority rings from my throat.

He gapes. A retort is brewing in his brain, but before I can make good on my warning, Linus speaks up with a smile.

"I fear she knows more than she tells us. Do as she says, brother."

A muscle ticks in Einar's jaw but he moves past me, never breaking eye contact. He even goes as far as walking backwards until his knees knock against the edge of the bed, toppling him onto it.

"You boys," my velvet voice bounces around the room and tangles with the smoke from the candles, "are going to do exactly as I ask you to."

Einar, ever the arrogant one, answers. "And if we don't?"

A devious smile plays across my lips.

I echo his words from just a little bit ago, "Ruination."