The moment I opened my mouth, I regretted it. The man turned and glared down at me as though I was a small child who had stolen something from him or touched something I shouldn’t have. I swallowed thickly and tried to keep my hammering heart under control. His ghostly pale eyes were cold, and they held me prisoner.

“What?” It was almost a shout, and I fought the urge to flinch. It only took a second for the chorus of “Shhhh!” to follow the outburst, and I couldn’t help but smirk just a little. If nothing else, our patrons were predictable.

“What do you want?” he snapped. I knew he wanted me to be afraid of him. I imagined he was used to people being afraid. But I wasn’t. If anything, I wanted to know more about him. The remnants of my dream rushed back into my mind unbidden—the way his lips had felt on mine, and the feeling of a gathering storm that had coursed through my veins when we touched.

Get it together, you pervert; you have a job to do, and he’s already pissed off.  

I cleared my throat and pushed my glasses back into place. “Signore de Sarno sent me to bring this to you,” I stammered. “You requested this specific copy of the Divine Comedy. I’ve completed its restoration and—”

“Give it here,” he said sharply. I held his gaze and wondered what he was thinking as I held the book out to him. When our fingers touched, I felt something jolt through me, a taste of the same feeling I’d had in my dream, and I flinched ever so slightly. The stranger smiled, just a little, and I swallowed thickly.

He unwrapped the book and touched the leather cover reverently before opening it to examine my handiwork. I had spent long hours repairing the spine and re-stitching the binding as Signore de Sarno had shown me. I had come to the Vallicelliana as an archivist, but Signore de Sarno was quickly turning me into an antiquarian and restorer of old manuscripts. He had promised to teach me about illumination soon, a skill I was eager to learn.

“Signore de Sarno never told me your name,” I said haltingly. The man looked up, as though he had forgotten I was there. He regarded me thoughtfully for a moment and then shook his head.

“Aiden, I suppose,” he said.

“You suppose?”

“You wanted a name,” he replied.

“But will you answer to it?”

“I don’t answer to anyone.”

Great job, Gideon. Greeeat job.

“I’m Gideon,” I said suddenly. Unwilling to let more silence fall between us. I wanted to talk to him, I wanted to know why he had requested this book…

“I know.” He didn’t look up from the page this time.

“Oh… right.” I remembered the conversation I’d overheard him having with Signore de Sarno in the mezzanine. They had been talking about me.

“So. Why this particular manuscript? We have several copies of Dante’s entire catalogue available in the main library.”

“I am aware,” he said, still not meeting my eyes.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, knowing that I was pushing against an invisible boundary. Finally, he looked up at me, his pale eyes burning coldly into mine.

“How well do you know this work?” he asked.

“Well enough. Dante completed it a year before his death; I believe he wrote it as a way to reconcile the approach of the inevitable. How wonderful would it be to believe that this version of an afterlife existed? I would take comfort in something similar.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Would you, now?”

“I don’t see why not. Mankind has taken solace in similar fictions for centuries, why not this one?”

“What do you believe?”

I’d never been asked that before. Living in Rome, surrounded by the power of religion and belief, it was still difficult to explain. I’d been raised Catholic, but when I’d been able to decide for myself I wasn’t entirely sure which path to take. The Church’s position on what I was and how I chose to live my life didn’t help matters… it was easier just to be undecided.

“I’m not sure,” I said carefully. “It seems to be a very personal exploration, one I’m not sure I’m completely qualified to make yet. Alighieri was convinced that there was something more, but not a heaven, per se.” I paused for just a moment, and the man’s gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t know that I agree with him fully, and I don’t know that I believe in a heaven either. I hope there’s something more waiting for us when we die, but if there isn’t, I think I’d be fine with that too. What matters is what we do with our time… It seems a bit selfish to believe that things will be better after we die, or that we will be able to keep doing whatever it is we were doing on earth before we’re six feet under it. I don’t think I’d want to do the same thing for eternity…”

I didn’t know this man, how was I standing here spilling my guts to him?

“It is but Nature's way; and in the ways of Nature there is no evil to be found.”

“That’s Aurelius,” I said with a smile. “All of the greatest leaders, even those who seem like they will never die, will, in the end, lose their lives. To believe otherwise is irrational.”

“Indeed.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Haven’t I?”

“No. Why this particular manuscript and not one of the ten others one of the volunteers might have brought you?”

Aiden, if that was really his name, turned another page and brought it to his nose. He inhaled deeply and his eyes closed. “Because this one smells real. Like ink, sweat, and age. This book represents almost seven hundred years of speculation and discourse all inspired by a collection of words arranged in a particular order.” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “How do you think Signore Alighieri would feel to know how his words had affected mankind?”

I blinked at him, suddenly feeling a little dizzy. “I don’t know. It’s a pity you can’t ask him, I imagine he’d have a lot to say about it. Unfortunately, he’s dead, so all we can do is guess.” Aiden seemed to find that funny, which, for some reason, annoyed me.

“Indeed. And what of Virgil, do you think he would have wanted to be involved in all of this? A guide through an underworld informed by a doctrine he had never experienced? How pleased do you think he would have been to be objectified this way?”

This had taken an odd turn. He was speaking about these long dead poets as though he actually knew them. As though he could actually ask their opinions. Was he mocking me? I was used to being ridiculed for being a book nerd, but in the library I should have been safe from all of that. I never expected to be challenged this way by someone I had assumed was a fellow scholar.

“I always thought Virgil was a personification, a metaphor,” I said stiffly. “If this is an idealized version of the underworld, I would think that Alighieri would want one of his idols to act as a guide. A perceived kindred spirit, I suppose.”

“A metaphor,” he snorted. “More like an expression of artistic arrogance.”

“You aren’t a fan?”

“Death has a funny way of bringing all mankind down to the same level,” he said darkly. “After all the evils that humans visit upon each other, I tend to side with Aurelius. No man can avoid death, yet all men fear it because it means they must be brought as low as those they spurned in life.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not in charge,” I muttered.

“Oh, is it?”

“You paint a bleak picture of the afterlife. If the choice is between that and what Alighieri dreamed was possible, I’ll take his fiction over yours.”

Aiden closed the book and re-wrapped it in the soft leather before setting it aside and crossing his tattooed arms over his broad chest.  

“You’re quite bold with your opinions, librarian,” he said quietly.

I swallowed hard as goosebumps prickled up my spine. So that was what it felt like to hear him say that word aloud, spoken in that deep voice that made my mind race and my stomach churn with anticipation.

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t be,” I said abruptly. “Otherwise what’s the point of any of this,” I gestured to all the books around us. “If we just blindly follow everything that’s pounded into our heads every hour of every day, none of this has any meaning.” For no reason that I could explain, I could feel anger tightening in my chest, eclipsing the twisting of my stomach at being so close to him. “You must believe that, otherwise you wouldn’t spend so much time here.”

Aiden’s eyes narrowed just a little as he looked at me.

Uh-oh.

“The pursuit of knowledge does nothing but fill mortal men with deeper regret when they look back at a life spent amongst lifeless things. All the books in the world can’t change their fate. Aurelius knew this—”

“Of course he did, but he didn’t despair it,” I snapped.  

“You’ve been watching me, spying on me… haven’t you?”

“I…”

“Don’t lie to me, librarian, I know what you’ve been doing.” His voice was dark and dangerous as he took a step towards me. The spiral staircase that led to the mezzanine was behind me, and I stopped short as it pressed into my back.

“I should get back to work…” I said breathlessly. He was so close, and I could feel my pulse thumping in my throat.

“Oh, indeed?” he said. His words were almost a challenge and I swallowed hard, not knowing how to react.

“Yes, indeed. Now, you have your book, and if you’ll excuse me…” I made to push past him, but his bulk filled the aisle, preventing my escape. The only way I could leave was up the narrow steps of the staircase behind me.

“Don’t be in such a hurry, librarian,” he said. “You’ve been watching me, I think it’s only fair that I get to watch you.”

“What do you mean by that?” I spun around the railing and fixed him with a glare. “I have work to do and you shouldn’t be lurking here. This library is open to the public for serious study and academic pursuit—not for voyeurism.”

“That makes you quite the hypocrite then.”

He moved closer, and I struggled to make my feet move. The shadows in the aisle seemed to grow and flicker and I felt panic rising in my throat. What had I gotten myself into?

I was two steps above him on the stairs, but he still towered over me. He stared down at me and his pale eyes were cold and mocking. I knew he expected me to cower, to run away, but I couldn’t move… and I didn’t want to.

“Tell me the truth about why you’ve been watching me,” he said, stepping closer again. “And don’t lie.”

I glared right back at him and tried to keep the tremor out of my voice. “I’m supposed to keep an eye out for suspicious people in the library. It’s part of my job. You’re here late, and let’s be honest, you look like a sketchy asshole. You’re proving me right, you know.”

“Liar,” he whispered. He reached out and rubbed his fingers down my throat, pausing on the pulse that thundered just under my chin. He leaned in to press an open-mouthed kiss against my jaw. Despite myself, my eyes closed and my head tilted back in an unconscious gesture of surrender. I drew in another difficult breath; the air around us was cold, something I hadn’t noticed until now.  

“Lonely librarian,” he murmured as he kissed up my jawline. His pale fingers curled around my throat, tightening with each kiss. I gasped and struggled to breathe, my mind reeling with the sensation of his kisses and the lack of oxygen. His words were hard and mocking in my ears. “Wasting your life amongst the words of the dead. The only touch you know is the rough scratch of parchment against your skin—and your own hand against your cock when you think about me, of course.”

I could feel his teeth on my earlobe, as sharp as they had been in my dream. His breath was cold as he whispered: “You’ve fantasized about me doing this to you, haven’t you? Dominating you. Fucking you. You’ve dreamed about it.”

My dream. I had to get away, someone would see us… My hands came up in a vain attempt to pry his fingers from around his neck and found them to be unyielding and cold. I began to scratch and shove at his chest, but I might as well have been punching stone for all the good it did.

I saw a smile cross Aiden’s lips for the first time since I’d laid eyes on him, and it was filled with cruel lust, just like his eyes. His other hand came up to push my hair away from my forehead. “Admit it,” he crooned. “You crave this.”

My lips parted in a silent gasp as his fingers tightened on my throat again.

“You’re full of shit,” I managed to gasp. “I’ve never... given you… a second thought.” He couldn’t know… I couldn’t let this happen, not here.

I watched as his eyes flitted down my body, then back up to meet my eyes. “Then why are you so hard?”

He released me suddenly, and my knees gave way beneath me; I crumpled onto the steps, coughing and clutching my throat. He lifted one long, pale finger to his lips in a taunting shushing gesture. I raised one of my own in another gesture entirely.

“Get out of here before I call the polizia, creep,” I muttered. I could feel my skin throbbing where his fingers had been and hoped that they wouldn’t turn into bruises. “Unless you’re willing to tell me who you really are, and what you’re really doing here, I have work to do.”

“But librarian,” he purred. “Surely you’ll want to take care of your… little problem first.”

He crouched down and trailed one finger up the stiff curve of the erection that strained against my jeans. I shuddered beneath his touch and smacked his hand away.

“Fuck,” I muttered and dragged a hand through my hair in frustration—there was no way I could walk out of this with my dignity intact, one way or the other. There were people in the mezzanine, people on the main floor, and I didn’t know what I’d do if I ran into Emilie or one of the other volunteers...

“Go on, bell'uomo,” Aiden whispered. He seemed to be enjoying my discomfort immensely. “Take care of yourself.”

“You’re unbelievable! I’m not doing anything, especially in front of you!” I snapped.

He shushed me again and received another obscene gesture in return. “Keep your voice down, signore—you wouldn’t want anyone to find you like this, would you? The respected archivist of the Biblioteca Vallicelliana, undone?”

I glared up at him from my slumped position on the staircase, my breathing still uneven and slightly pained. Between the tousled hair and the red marks on my neck, the unmistakable curve of my erection in these goddamned tight pants, I must have looked utterly debauched already. But an even bigger problem was that the prospect of being caught was only arousing me more—and, worse, he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.  

“Besides,” he murmured, leaning against the railing and glancing at his watch, as if the entire thing already bored him. “You’ve watched me without my permission before. I’m just returning the favor. Touch yourself, or I’ll draw attention to us. Perhaps the volunteers are looking for you, or the dear Signore… Then you’ll have more than one pair of eyes to worry about.”

I tried to snarl at him, but I couldn’t hide my growing excitement, or the painful throb of my cock against my jeans. Fuck it. His pale eyes never left mine as, angrily, I unbuttoned my pants and slipped out my cock. I started to jerk it with fast, careless strokes. If I could get this over and done with quickly, I could hide in the archive room again until it was time to leave and I could forget all about it… forget all about him.

“What’s the rush, librarian?” he mocked me. He wetted his lips as he watched my hand move up and down the thick length of my cock. “Does the thought of being discovered really arouse you this much? Or is it being forced to touch yourself against your will that has you leaking all over yourself like a desperate virgin? I bet you’d love for me to tie you up and take whatever I wanted from you, denying your pleasure to fulfill my own. Wouldn’t you?”

“You fucking wish,” I hissed—but he didn’t fail to notice how my strokes quickened at the very suggestion.

With a swiftness that caught me off guard, he was suddenly standing unbearably close to me, straddling me, his crotch level with my face. My hand faltered as he freed his own cock and stroked it quickly to hardness, mere inches from my quivering lips. I was hungry for him, and I knew he could see it in my eyes.

“I know the darkest fantasies in the hearts of men,” he whispered. “I know you’d love to suck me off right now, right here in your precious library—you’d try to pretend you didn’t want it, of course, proud fool that you are, but when I asked a second or third time, you’d stop protesting. And when I pushed it to the back of your throat, cutting off your air once more, and kept it there until you choked, you’d come harder than you’ve ever come in your life, and afterwards you’d thank me for it. Or am I wrong?”

With some difficulty, I managed to drag my eyes back up to his face. I was so close to a furious climax, one that felt like it had been building inside me for the better part of a year, and his eyes reflected the furious need in mine.

“Dead wrong,” I said through gritted teeth—his cold smile told me that I was a terrible liar.

With one hand still lazily stroking his cock, he used the other to grab my throat and squeeze. He dug his fingers into the same tender spots he’d found before, expertly controlling me. That did it; with a cry that was stifled to a breathless gasp by his choking grasp, I came… hard. It filled my hand and spattered over my dark shirt and jeans, unmistakable and shameful. As though he’d planned it this way.

Bastard.

He kept his firm grip on my throat, hard and almost comforting, until the last aftershock had trembled through me. When he released me, he rubbed a hand down my cheek, almost gently. I drew in a gasping breath, the blood rushing to my cheeks when I saw what had happened. But in spite of my embarrassment—or, maybe, because of it—my cock betrayed me, twitching with the first hints of fresh arousal.

“Now beg me,” he said. “Beg me to put my cock in your mouth.”

“Fuck off,” I spat, panting and hanging on to the metal railing for dear life.

He shrugged. “Your loss.”

“Wait…” I shook my head and looked away, ashamed and annoyed in equal measure. “Fine.”

“Beg. Tell me how much you want it.”

“I’m not fucking begging you!”

“Keep your voice down, librarian,” he purred. “At least say please. We are civilized men after all, are we not?”

I gritted my teeth, but my mouth was hungry for him. “Okay, please. Please can I suck your cock?”

He smirked, and in a move quick enough to disorient me, Aiden had stepped away from me and tucked his hard cock back into his pants.

“No,” he said, and then turned and headed down the stairs. He collected the leather-wrapped book and disappeared into the shadows before I could formulate another word. I groaned and leaned my head against the staircase railing. My heart pounded in my throat and my cock throbbed…

“I know the darkest fantasies in the hearts of men…”

I shivered at the delicious way his words had made me feel. It was always the quiet ones, the ones you least suspected that were the most willing to surrender to those desires. I’d never been with anyone who could give me what I wanted. But Aiden… it was as if he’d already known. As if he’d peered inside my dreams and brought them to life.

I shook my head and dragged myself to my feet. I was a mess. All I could do was tuck my cock away and sneak through the mezzanine and hope that no one would see me… I’d had enough of people watching me for today. It might have been my imagination, but I could hear Aiden’s sardonic laughter floating through the corridors. The sound gave me goosebumps and made my cock twitch in my pants.

I wondered if he knew what he’d done, what he’d awakened in me. Something told me that he knew exactly what he was doing, and I was going to have to watch my back.