Page 4 of Necking with a Vampire (Halloween Temptation #1)

Draven was a vampire.

Seriously?

A vampire.

And not even one of the cool old-timey ones. Were grunge vampires a thing?

Unlike Peter. He’d gone all out with dress pants, a frilly white shirt, and a maroon velvet vest. He’d even spent extra on comfortable fangs.

What were the odds that they were both vampires?

And while Peter felt overdressed, surrounded by skimpy costumes, Draven fit right.

Maybe it was the fancy, high-backed chair Draven was holding court from. The party had themed areas with props, and Draven looked very comfortable on the medieval throne, surrounded by admirers.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

No.

That wasn’t what made Peter’s heart drop into his stomach.

Draven was smiling.

With teeth!

Laughing.

Even from a distance Peter could see the fangs.

What had happened to Peter’s grump? Why was he smiling and laughing freely for these people, when Peter had to fight to get even the hint of a close-lipped smile?

Who was this man? It couldn’t be the one Peter had slowly been getting to know over the past month. The one who secretly cared for injured bats. The one who gently distracted Peter with flirting and petting.

The only one Peter trusted enough to draw blood.

So much for making a move on him tonight. This man could have anyone he wanted. He didn’t need Peter.

Peter had been trying so hard to make Draven laugh. And here Draven was, smiling at all these strangers for free.

What was Peter lacking, that he hadn’t deserved a smile like that?

It transformed the man and set Peter’s heart racing - even worse than usual.

Those teeth!

They gave a different air to Draven. Something predatory.

Was this the real Draven?

This smiling, intimidating man at the center of his group of admirers? Or was he the man who sheepishly admitted to building a home for the rescued bat that refused to leave him?

Peter should go. He should find a girl his parents would accept and convince her to join him for Thanksgiving.

He should give up on Draven. It was a fantasy.

One of the women put an arm on Draven’s shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. Draven laughed again, free and carefree.

He should leave them to it. But his feet refused to move, knees locked.

Something was wrong. There was an emptiness - a distance - in Draven’s eyes.

Peter didn’t just give blood. He talked to Draven. They discussed a variety of topics, from Peter’s nursing aspirations to Draven’s secret habit of rescuing bats.

Where was the intensity? The focus? Was Draven bored or…?

Draven’s eyes slid off the woman and landed squarely on Peter.

The change in Draven was subtle but unmistakable.

Maybe Peter hadn’t missed his chance after all.

This was the time to be brave.

Peter marched forward, elbowing his way through the throng of admirers, and loudly said, “I can’t believe you dressed as a vampire.”

Daven casually shrugged off the woman’s hand on his shoulder and smirked, a single long tooth peeking out.

Wow, his fangs looked so much more realistic than Peter’s.

Peter continued, “You’re not even dressed right!”

“Oh? Do tell. What does a real vampire look like?”

“Like me, obviously.” Peter gestured at himself.

Draven took the invitation to examine Peter from head to toe. He took his time, lingering on Peter's thighs and hips where the fabric pulled especially tight.

Peter had the sudden desire to cover himself like a blushing virgin.

“Is that a velvet vest?” Draven said.

Draven had a thing for velvet - as he’d once confided to Peter.

“But you promised-” a woman said, the one who’d had her hand on Draven’s shoulder.

Draven cut her off with a wave of his hand and gestured for Peter to come closer.

Peter did so, beaming at the disappointed murmurs from Draven’s little coven.

Draven spread his legs to make room, as if leaning forward was beneath him - Peter had to come to him.

Peter couldn’t help glancing down - to make sure he didn’t step on Draven’s toes! - and saw the faint outline of a bulge.

“My eyes are up here!” Draven said in faux outrage, smiling widely, teeth and all.

Peter’s breath caught in his throat. There it was. A real smile. The kind he’d been trying to coax out since they’d met.

He’d spent so many hours daydreaming about making Draven laugh with a good joke, and had succeeded thanks to something as crass as staring at his dick.

“Looks like velvet, but a real vampire demands the highest quality.”

Draven ran his hands up Peter’s chest.

“Oh,” Draven said, and it sent a zip of pleasure straight down Peter’s spine. “This feels incredible, come closer.”

Closer? Peter’s knees were practically hitting the chair-!

All it took was a firm tug and Peter was seated in Draven’s lap.

“Ack!”

Draven was stronger than he looked. And he wasted no time in feeling Peter up.

“You know I have a weakness for real velvet,” Draven said lowly into Peter’s ear.

“Y-yeah.” Peter swallowed thickly.

It might have been why he spent so much money on it. He’d pinned his hopes on tonight. Only to have them dashed when he first saw Draven. But now those hopes were looking promising again?

“The rest of you can move along,” Draven said to the dwindling crowd around his chair. “I’ve chosen my playmate for the night. Better luck next year.”

“Next year? How many years have you come?”

“Coming every year is a given.” There was Draven’s usual flirty self. “Although I suppose you think everyone here is too young for me…”

Draven kept touching Peter like he couldn’t help himself.

“No way! You’re not that old, you’re just an old soul!”

There wasn’t a grey hair to be seen or a single wrinkle around his piercing eyes. In no world could Peter conceive of Draven being ‘too old.’

Draven laughed, giving Peter a closeup view of the fangs. They looked sharp enough to cut! How was that safe? For someone who’d put so little effort into his costume, Draven had gone all out on the fangs.

Much like Peter with the velvet vest.

Around them, a small group loitered, whispering to each other. What Peter overheard was a little unsettling.

“So unfair. He promised to bite me. I can’t believe he’d choose that clown.”

“Is there even enough blood in that skinny body to feed him properly?”

“He didn’t even taste us, how does he know that boy tastes the best?”

Peter grimaced. They were all acting like Draven was a real vampire. As badly as he wished that were true, he knew it wasn’t.

“Ignore them,” Draven said. “They don’t know I've already sampled you, and I know you are absolutely delicious.”

“When- oh! Right,” Peter laughed. “What do we need to do so they’ll leave you alone?”

Draven stared at Peter for a long moment, like he was at long last coming to a decision. Then he bared his fangs.

“What any two vampires would do when they’re hungry,” Draven said. “Go for the throat.”

Without any further warning, Draven tightened his grip on Peter, pressed his lips against Peter’s pulse, and moaned softly.

“I can feel your heart racing for me,” Draven said. “It’s like a caged bird, begging to be let out.”

Let out, meaning…?

Peter couldn’t finish the thought, too distracted by Draven’s tongue replacing the lips, followed by an intense sucking. Was Draven trying to suck the blood out?

“I’m a vampire too,” Peter said, trying not to squirm at the onslaught. “Don’t I get a bite?”

Draven shifted Peter so his legs crossed over Draven’s. It lowered Peter just enough that he could nibble below Draven’s ear.

The second his lips touched skin he knew he’d made the right choice in Draven. If the man had thought Peter’s heart was beating fast before, he had to love how much faster it was racing now.

Skin oddly cool, Peter made it his mission to warm Draven up.

He was doing it. With a man. In front of other people.

And it felt good. Perfect. Now that he’d started, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to stop. The dam had burst. There was no sealing it up again.

Everything about Draven felt right.

Except one thing. Peter couldn’t feel Draven’s pulse. Was he doing something wrong?

Draven’s hands kept moving, like he couldn’t help himself with the velvet. All while sucking at Peter’s neck like it was the most delicious treat.

“Wow, my velvet vest is a real winner, huh?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. It’s not the velvet I have a weakness for - it’s you.”

“Oh,” Peter breathed.

Draven kissed a line down Peter’s neck without a hint of fangs.

What was the point of kissing as vampires if they didn’t use their fangs? Peter had always been too embarrassed to ask a girl to bite him, but here was the perfect opportunity.

“Bite me,” Peter said, kissing Draven’s neck more firmly.

“You don’t want that,” Draven said, despite moaning like he desperately wanted to. “You’re not ready.”

Screw that!

Peter had stewed in uncertainty long enough! He wanted to try. And he wanted to try with Draven. Tonight, he wanted it all. No more uncertainty. No more holding himself back. No more fear.

He trailed his lips down to where neck met shoulder and bit down.

The shocked grunt was worth it. Even as Draven growled and pulled Peter tight against his body. Tight enough to feel-

Draven was hard. Totally and completely hard. Holy fuck. Just from a bit of necking?

“You don’t know… You won’t like where this leads.”

Peter ignored the warning, kept nibbling a line up Draven’s neck, this time with teeth.

Fingers carding through his hair was the only warning he got before they tightened and pulled Peter’s head back, exposing his neck.