Page 22 of Gifted Destiny (Hidden Libraries #3)
Garrett
F uck. Fuck. Fuck.
I didn’t mean to say the words aloud. I shouldn’t have thought them. I woke up in a foul mood after Bren ignored my lecture about being impulsive and called me out for being controlling. When I finally attempted to sleep, my jealous imagination taunted me with the sounds of Zosia and her damn ghost. Imaginary or not, sleep eluded me because my throbbing cock refused to respond to my desperate attempts to ease my need.
The sphinx within the woman scowls at me from eyes turned golden, and my griffin can’t decide whether to submit or continue his show of domination. Her show of power makes him pant with lust, which is uncharacteristic. He knows we fucked up, though, and he seems to be turned on by her righteous anger.
I inhale a deep breath through my nose, drawing on a lifetime of practice. It was necessary to maintain iron control around Addington and his sadistic friends. They reveled in provoking me to the point of shifting until I learned how to deny the beast. If Addington weren’t a bastard, I might have thanked him for the helpful lessons.
“I’m sorry.” I force the apology past my clenched jaw, but the library betrays me.
“No, you’re not,” Zosia points out coldly. Her power makes her glow like the sun, and I swear she radiates heat. I don’t see how anyone could think this woman is weak.
I consider leaving, and it isn’t the first time I’ve entertained the idea since I walked into the fabled library. I could walk out. I could abandon my brother and my mate and search for a different life. I don’t actually want to leave, but my pride is broken and bleeding.
The alpha in me chafes at being considered second, third, or fourth best. I have to share my mate, and I’m going to be her last choice. She chose a vampire first. Her second choice was a creature that wasn’t even alive anymore. She might choose my brother next – someone who’s never really had an interest in women.
I’ve been groomed to lead and take the position of alpha my entire life, but I’m just a bodyguard here – in a library. I can’t even fucking read ….
The revenge I’ve planned for years will be carried out from behind the scenes because I am here. I do not control my destiny.
The insecurities and complaints that have been rising within me for days rush to the fore as we glare at each other. We’re both breathing hard, and I would be sparking with magic if I were Bren. If my griffin didn’t want to make her ours so badly, he’d be demanding that I shift.
Zosia’s power grows as steadily as the silence. As it burns brighter, I start to sweat. “I want to hear everything, Garrett. Get everything out.” Her tone is soft, but it’s as effective as a spell. Mated or not, her command forces compliance.
I barely recognize my voice as I list my thoughts. I don’t hide any details or apologize for hurting her feelings, even though my brutal honesty sometimes makes me wince.
Throughout the entire monologue, I study her for a reaction. Her eyelashes don’t flutter, her lips don’t press together, her jaw doesn’t tighten, and the color of her eyes doesn’t change. The sphinx simply listens as I whine about feeling passed over, trapped, and inconsequential.
The unrestrained flood is a relief at first, but it starts to feel like a curse as I continue. As I near the end, I realize I sound like the entitled brat my father raised me to be. I say this too, my tone mournful and pathetic, before falling silent.
Still, the magnificent Sphinx of the Western Library says nothing. The golden heat of her magic continues to pulse against my skin. It’s not painful, but it finds more truths – words I didn’t have time to think before she accosted me.
“Fuck. Why are you so unbelievingly beautiful? Strong? Brilliant? Amazing? You continue to be good to us, even though my brother is traumatized and scared to bond? Even though I’m a spoiled asshole? I still want you. I can cope with everything else – everything I just said – if you’d just claim me already. The more you wait, the more my griffin and I worry that you’ll decide you don’t want us.” I release a heavy breath. “And we’d understand why.”
My very last admission finally prompts a reaction. Her golden-blue eyes widen slightly, and the heat of her magic softens to a comforting warmth.
I can’t believe I revealed so much. I’ve been conditioned to evaluate every word for its usefulness and potential danger before they escape my lips. I can’t bring myself to regret a single word, however.
Several minutes of silence test the tension between us. She’s realized I’ve exhausted my complaints and is contemplating how to proceed. Her full lips part, and I brace for her reply. Instead of words, though, her tongue slides across the lush pink surface.
My control crumbles into dust. My chair slides noisily backward as I lean over the table to close the distance between us. The second my lips touch hers, a growl vibrates the dishes I pushed aside in my eagerness to get to her. She tastes like decadence – coffee, cream, sugar.
She’s a forbidden indulgence; I want to absorb her. The events that have created me disintegrate as my griffin relinquishes his pride and yields to her sphinx. The pathetic existence my human self has endured responds similarly. I am humbled by the complex juxtaposition of vulnerability and strength that composes this fascinating being.
I might be overcome with lust, but I’m still aware of her cues. At first, her body freezes with uncertainty. After a second, she leans into me and parts her lips. I plunder the depths of her mouth with my tongue and nearly fall apart with suppressed desire. I want … no …, I need to touch and taste every inch of her golden skin. I need to forget the world between her soft thighs. I need to be forged anew in her tight heat.
Just when I believe I might be able to fulfill my semi-poetic lustful needs, Zosia slides her wheeled chair backward. As the distance between us lengthens, I’m grateful for the thick, unyielding wood table. I could leap across it or break it, but I press my aching cock against it instead. I don’t know which is harder, but the contemplation reminds me that jumping directly into bed with this woman has consequences. I can’t think rationally when I’m touching her.
Her labored breaths draw my gaze downward. She has amazing breasts, and I’ve yet to see them uncovered. The rise and fall of her chest reveal their full shape and the hardened nubs of her nipples straining against her thin shirt. The scent of her arousal and the visible evidence is because of my kiss. She was not thinking about the ghost, the vampire, or my brother.
“Do you want to nullify your contract as a library guardian, Garrett Kennard?” The words are clipped and forced, but she feels compelled to ask. The dedication to her duty, enforced by the library or not, is an example of her strength. She’d rather be kissing me, but we can’t indulge in a worry-free hook-up.
The bond could form when we submit to each other, and it’s not something we can undo without disastrous consequences. My grievances will become truths. She doesn’t have to ask me this. She could dismiss my whining as inconsequential and bind me regardless. Her concern, more than her desire or her strength, is the deciding factor. If I left here, I’d leave with only my pride and desire for revenge. Leaving her would make me a fool.
A full-body growl accompanies my decision, and I step around the table to scoop her into my arms. The adrenaline and lust coursing through my veins make her weightless in my arms. All I feel are her soft curves melting into my hard edges.
She manages a garbled protest as her hands reflexively twine around my neck. I won’t be able to steal another kiss without a reply, but I don’t intend to leave her question unanswered. The remaining shreds of my pride insist on privacy for my final submission.
Three strides bring me to her bedroom door, and it opens at my approach. I kick it shut behind us. The scent in the bedroom is Zosia’s alone and the sheets are unrumpled and clean, as if the library has made an allowance and conceded to erase all traces of last night's lovemaking. Once she is mine, it won’t matter that the ghost was here.
Alone and unobserved, I meet her gaze again, unwilling to release her just yet. Holding her gives me strength. I take a deep breath and force aside the more ruthless aspects of my alpha nature. Under Addington, they became a tool for manipulation. This woman, my mate, isn’t my father. I need to express myself in words, even if it defies every lesson I’ve been taught. Love and loyalty shouldn’t be weaknesses or bargaining chips. Offered freely, they become strengths.
“I do not want to nullify my contract or leave the library, Zosia Abram. I want to stay here with you.” My words shake despite my mental pep-talk; a scrap of control is relinquished with each word. “I spoke truly. Part of me chafes at being stuck here and altering the plans I’ve cultivated my entire life, but ….” Her all-knowing golden-blue eyes pull the truth from my soul. “I belong here.”
I release a breath I hadn’t been aware I’d been holding. “Fear has made me resistant to accept this. I keep thinking that you’ll realize you made a mistake or you’re choosing me for Bren’s sake. I don’t feel good enough for you or the library, Zosia. I’m not that smart, and I can’t even read properly. I know you wouldn’t pick me if you could choose anyone. My beast insists that you’re his mate, but I was worried our human sides were incompatible.”
Needing to do something, I set the woman in my arms on the edge of her bed. It physically hurts to release her, but my lust is muted as my brain and heart take over.
She doesn’t say anything, so I risk looking at her face, scared to see her agreement. Instead, I see understanding. Her bright eyes locate my doubts and soothe each one individually.
When she leans forward and wraps her arms around my waist, I nearly lose every scrap of control I’d gathered. I redirect my gaze to the textured ceiling. She has no idea what she’s doing, and her innocence makes her actions more enticing. I try to ignore her beautiful soft breasts pressed against my eager cock and her lips so close ….
I shut my eyes tightly and take a deep breath. We are talking. I concentrate on her words.
“I might not have picked you when I first met you, but I didn’t know you then. I know you now and you are my choice, if you’ll have me. Your fierce protective streak and unconditional love for your brother factor into why I want you, but it’s not for your brother’s sake. You might be an ass sometimes, but not all of the time, and you know when you mess up. Considering who raised you, I’m constantly amazed by these moments of compassion and humility. Your dyslexia doesn’t even factor into the equation. Being able to read quickly or well doesn’t prove someone’s intelligence. I believe that you balance our group perfectly.”
The tender, honest words prompt me to look at her, and I regret it immediately. Her head is tilted back to meet my gaze, her lips are slightly parted, and the movement presses her breasts more fully against me. Can’t she feel me straining against my pants? I’m not a small man.
With deliberate, careful movements, I unwind her arms and drag the chair over to the bed. She watches me curiously.
“I might be intelligent sometimes, but not when you’re pressed against me like that. My brain stops working entirely.”
She cocks her head to the side, clearly disbelieving that she could be that distracting. Deliberately, I adjust my aching cock within the confines of my jeans. I want her to see that my words aren’t said to appease her, and it’s uncomfortable to sit with a raging hard-on. I swear my pants weren’t this tight when I put them on this morning.
Color floods her cheeks and her pink tongue slides across her lips again. How does she manage to undo me without even trying? I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and clutch the chair beneath me until the plastic protests.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I breathe as I swipe a hand down my face and gather my control. “You say you want me, but I have many flaws. One of the most damning is that I’m adverse to change. I’m single-minded and simple, and I crave control. I can blame this on my childhood, but that part isn’t important. The point is that I’ve built my future around revenge and retaliation. When Bren led me here and upended everything, I got mad. I’m sorry if I took that anger out on you.”
My fingers itch to touch her now that I’m not. She opted for a messy bun this morning instead of her usual braid, and I like it. The style compliments her beautiful facial structure and makes her seem less restrained. The strands of gold, red, and auburn shine in the morning light. I want to run my hands through her thick hair and see it loose around her shoulders.
“Your plans for revenge shouldn’t be forgotten, Garrett. We have a common enemy, and we will bring him down.” The power of her sphinx is behind the words, making them sound like a prophecy and a promise. “I also understand that you feel trapped. It’s hard for me too. It isn’t supposed to be this way. We should have the run of the entire campus, but it’s not safe right now.”
I hadn’t considered this possibility. I don’t really want to spend time with the haughty students, but everything might change once we rid the school of Addington’s influence.
I don’t want to burst the bubble of hope she’s cultivated, but the protector in me feels compelled to point out the flaw in her logic. “Addington and his followers aren’t the only threat. You are the last sphinx. There will always be someone who wants control of the library … and you.”
She shrugs. “I know, but I hope those people won’t be on top of us all the time.” Her beautiful eyes glint with wicked intent. “Speaking of being on top ….”
The plastic chair creaks ominously as my biceps strain. “Zosia ….” Her name is a prayer on my lips. I close my eyes to erase the temptation she presents. “I’m sorry.” My apology is difficult to say, but the library reveals its honesty. “What I said was … unforgivable and stupid. I didn’t mean to insult you.” I stammer and babble, but I can’t stop. I should be on my knees and begging for forgiveness, but I can’t move. If I move, it will be toward her, and she hasn’t given me permission.
“Garrett.”
I love the sound of my name on her lips, but I don’t know the meaning. “Yes?”
“I forgive you. Now come here.”
I spring across the distance between us with a speed that would rival a vampire’s, but I don’t throw caution aside. I’m mindful of my size and the power of my beast inside. She’s not weak, but I could hurt her without even trying.
My mouth crashes onto hers with the full force of the desire I’ve restrained since the first time my lips touched hers. The intensity of my attack pushes her down onto the bed. She lays with her legs still half hanging off the bed and my thighs bracketing hers. I’m too heavy to lie on her, and I purposefully maintain distance between our bodies. If I surrender to the urge to press my throbbing cock against any part of her body, I might lose the last ounce of control I’m holding onto.
Instead, I use the power of my core to hold me over her and concentrate solely on the kiss. I devour her while cherishing every taste, imprinting the shape of her lips in my memory so that I can recall it when we’re apart. Her suppressed whimpers of pleasure and the way her panting breaths nearly press her beautiful breasts against my chest threaten the shreds of my control.
Reluctantly, I move my mouth from her lips and suckle at her neck. I want to taste and touch her everywhere, but I only have one mouth and two hands. My griffin has his own agenda. He wants to mark her – not only with a mate tattoo but also with the pressure of our lips. Her fingertips raking through the shorn hair on my head and grasping at my shoulders feel more erotic than they have any right to be.
With irritating insistence, my conscience manages to find my voice. “I should probably be the last,” I hear myself whisper. Wasn’t I just complaining about being last … to the others and to her? Reason insists that Bren is already part of my pack; he doesn’t threaten my beast. What if my brother leaves, though? I’d have to choose between Bren and Zosia. He wouldn’t change his mind willingly, but it’s still a possibility.
“I thought it was time to open the library ….” I scarcely recognize my own voice. Why am I protesting?
I stand back up and stare at the opposite wall, unseeing. My arguments are the last, sputtering responses of my logical brain. It argues that we’ve cleared the air, so we should go open the library. It also says that she must be sore after her two other mates and could probably use a break, but I can’t get myself to leave. My body is consumed by my desire for her and my muscles won’t obey.
Movement flutters at my midsection. I ignore it until soft lips press against the bare skin above the waistband of my jeans.
“Fuck.” The curse word is the only word my mouth and my brain can manage. Addington didn’t like it when we swore because he said it made us sound lower class. I’d taken up the habit just to spite him, but this has nothing to do with him. It’s the only word that seems appropriate, especially when her movements are innocent but bold. She teases the skin she revealed when she lifted the hem of my shirt. My pants are naturally low on my hips, and I groan aloud when she dips her tongue under the waistband.
My fingers catch in the hair gathered at the back of her head. “Zosia,” I croak in a voice I barely recognize. “It will be very difficult for me to stop if you don’t stop right now.” I hate this admission because it implies I would take her by force. I might be half-beast, but I’m not as horrible as that. I feel like I can’t right now, though. My griffin urges me onward, and she has filled me with so much lust that I might burst – perhaps literally. That would be preferable to taking her against her will, though.
The trail of kisses and little nips she’s pelting me with pause for a brief second. My muscles shake with the tension of restraint, and my jaw feels like it might break. I’m rooted so firmly into the ground I might as well be a stone pillar.
“Do you want to be my mate, Garrett? Do you want to fulfill the rest of the contract you signed?” I feel her looking up at me, but I close my eyes tightly. Her question overflows with intention and purpose despite the heat of the moment, and I can’t answer lightly.
The rest of the contract …. It comes back word by word, even though my brain doesn’t normally work in that manner. I knew what I was signing when I signed it, but there were also levels of commitment. She’s asking me if I want to deepen our bond and become fully one with her and the library.
My answer will change the direction of my life, but there’s only one thing I can say and still maintain honesty. “Yes, Zosia Abram. I want to be your mate.” My declaration rings with brutal sincerity. The fundamental truth is that I will be an inferior version of myself without her, the library, and the other guardians – although I hate admitting to the last one. Alone, my revenge will be hollow, my victory worthless, and my purpose wholly selfish. In addition, my future loves and desires will pale in comparison to this woman.
The candidness and determination in my words elicit a satisfied growl. Her sphinx is just under the surface of her skin, judging by the sharpened tips of her fingernails as she undoes the top button of my pants.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I force the protest past my tight jaw with my eyes still shut tightly. If I look down, I am gone; there will be no more thinking.
“You won’t,” she says. I don’t believe she’s completely confident about this, but her trust in me is genuine. I open my eyes but continue to stare at the ceiling, forcing my griffin’s instincts under my human ones. I don’t know how long I can maintain this restraint, but I want to give her control while I still can. My hands clench at my sides because I fear hurting her.
She undoes the last button on my jeans, and my cock springs free with joyful anticipation. It probably smacks her right in the face. I can’t determine whether her faster, louder breaths are caused by fear or desire, so I risk glancing at her face. She’s staring at my eagerness with wide eyes.
“You’re so big,” she gasps with a thread of worry in her voice. It isn’t just her inexperience in this arena that makes her think so – I am larger than average by a lot. To top it off, her praise makes me swell even bigger. The tip of my cock bobs close to her mouth, and she licks her lips. I worry for a second that I’m going to cum all over her face. My thighs are blocks of stone as I dig deeper into the floor, cementing myself in place.
The pink tongue that just traced her lips hesitantly skims the head of my cock. My answering groan is so loud that I’m certain the entire campus would hear it if the rooms weren’t magically soundproofed. Her innocence is so sincere and tempting despite her recent nights with two different men. It flays me.
“Zosia,” I gasp. “I can’t ….” My words die when her lips envelop the thick head of my cock. I no longer know what words are. Her mouth is warm, wet, and inviting as her tongue strokes the underside of my erection.
Fuck ….
She slides as much of me between her lips as she’s able; it’s only about half of my thickened length, but it’s enough. When she slides back off again, my hips shake with the desire to fuck her mouth. Her mouth is perfect, but I tear myself away from her. A whimper of disappointment nearly makes me rethink the decision, but I don’t. I’m afraid I’ll hurt her if she continues, and I don’t want to.
Instead, I grasp her hips and push her fully onto the bed so that she’s no longer half on and half off. Then, I reach down to strip off my socks, grateful that we decided we’d not wear shoes in the apartment.
When Zosia reaches for the hem of her shirt, I stop her with a shake of my head. I don’t give a shit about my clothes, though, and they’re on the floor within seconds. The admiration and awe in her eyes as I kneel naked beside her sends a thrill through me. I focus on grasping the hem of her shirt and not my single-minded lust.
“I could have undressed myself,” she whispers. The rosy tinge of embarrassment stains her cheeks.
“I want to unwrap this present slowly,” I whisper in a rough voice. “You’re so beautiful that I want to see every inch as it’s revealed.” The color in her cheeks increases, but I’ve shocked her into silence, so I do exactly as I said I would.
I lean over her gently and trace the swell of her breasts as they rise above the lace of her bra. The golden ink of the tattoo she’d received last night melds with her bronzed skin, and I include it in the caress of my lips and my fingertips as I explore her body.
It’s pointless to contemplate what my mark will be; the design doesn’t matter. The meaning behind it is what’s important. I don’t belong to her and she doesn’t belong to me, but we belong to each other. It ties our souls together and it solidifies our mate-bond. Being mates doesn’t make a relationship easy, but it implies a commitment to work through any difficulty.
Zosia is everything I don’t deserve and more than I’d dreamed, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe. Her life is in my care, and my heart is in hers.