Page 31 of Road Trip with a Vampire

Fifteen

[a rough architectural sketch of a small two-bedroom home, undated, labeled “South Harbor home; fit for a family one day, hopefully”]

Peter watched me as he waited for me to say something, the furrow in his brow deepening the longer I stayed silent.

But the words got stuck in my throat. Words were laughably inadequate to convey how much I wanted him, too. Or my relief that even after hearing my story he was looking at me like I had hung the moon.

So instead of answering him with words, I climbed into his lap. I didn’t miss his sharp intake of breath when I pressed my forehead to his.

“You want me?” I asked, breathless. His eyes fluttered closed, my mouth hovering less than an inch from his. I knew he did, the truth of what he’d admitted radiating off him as surely as if he were on his knees, reciting a sonnet in my honor. But I wanted to hear him say it again.

“Yes,” he rasped. His hands found my hips and dug in, pulling me closer until I could feel how much he wanted me. “You have…no idea.”

I didn’t know who started the kiss, couldn’t tell whether it was a bad idea to do this with someone I still didn’t really know or if kissing Peter was the best idea I’d ever had.

All I knew were his strong hands stroking up and down my back, my fingers twining through his soft, dark hair—and the coiling want in the pit of my belly, threatening to undo me just from this.

“Is this really happening?” Peter mumbled, his breath cool against my lips. He sounded dazed, as though half-convinced this was just an elaborate dream.

“It is,” I confirmed. I leaned in close and, in an ironic pantomime of how he fed, kissed a line from his ear straight down the column of his throat. I let my tongue dart out as I moved, tasting him, reveling in the way he bucked up into me when I lingered in one spot, swirling my tongue.

“I feel like I’ve wanted you for a very long time.” Peter’s breathing was ragged now. His fingertips dug into my hips so hard I was sure to have bruises tomorrow. I reveled in it. Wanted him undone. “Months. Years, even. It isn’t possible, because we only just met, and yet—”

He was already hard as a rock beneath me. On impulse, I pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. His hands trailed down my thighs, his eyes two dark pools as he stared up at me in patient wonder. Waiting to see what I would do.

What was I going to do?

“Take your shirt off,” I instructed. I was making this up as I went along. I’d had no plans for any of this to happen, but if there was one thing I knew I wanted, it was to finally get a good look at Peter’s glorious chest.

It was awkward for him because of how I was perched atop him.

But he obliged as quickly as he could, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor beside the couch.

Miles of pale, muscled torso greeted me.

Gods, what had he done as a human to be this sculpted?

My fingers itched to trace every ridge and contour of his body, and with only a moment’s hesitation I did just that, starting with featherlight caresses along his collarbones before growing bolder, moving down, down, down his body with purpose.

He was like marble beneath my fingertips, cold and hard and unyielding. When I reached his waistband, he caught my wrists before pulling them away from his body.

“Not yet,” he rasped.

“Why not?” I pouted. His cock was large, tenting the fabric of his jeans. I wanted to see it, wanted to feel it in my hands.

“Patience,” he lectured mock seriously.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

He laughed, then sobered, eyes soft again.

“You’re all I can think about,” he admitted.

He made quick work of my shirt, my bra, tossing them to the floor to join his shirt before I could even offer to help him.

My nipples pebbled into hard little points the moment they hit the cool air of the room.

Peter’s eyes dropped to my chest, darkening as he took in the sight of me above him.

“The other night I dreamed I was fucking you, my cock buried so deep in your cunt and my teeth so deep in your neck we were both screaming.”

He said it so quietly I had to strain to hear him, but oh gods, his filthy mouth would be my undoing.

I wanted it. All of it. Right here, right now, on this expensive couch.

I could tell he did, too, from the way he all but tore my leggings and then my underwear down my body.

His fingers were a bit rough, but I didn’t care. It was everything I needed.

I reached for the waistband of his jeans again.

This time he didn’t stop me. I undid his button, then the zipper—whether through magic or the use of my hands, I didn’t know.

I was past the point of caring. Before I managed to get his pants off, he tugged me up his body like I weighed nothing at all, positioning me exactly where he wanted me.

The way his strong hands flexed on my hips, the look he gave me…

My body’s reaction was primal, pulling a whimper from me before I could stopper the sound.

“You should tell me to stop,” he panted.

“That you don’t want this.” I knew he didn’t want to stop any more than I did.

As if to prove it, he lifted his hips, awkwardly shimmying out of his jeans and his boxers.

Then he wrapped his arms around my body, crushing me to him.

He traced his nose along the column of my throat, breathing me in.

Pressing a kiss to the spot where I knew that just before he was about to come, he’d be begging me to let him bite me.

After all, he wouldn’t be able to come without it.

Imagining his teeth driving into my neck, the indescribable pleasure it would bring us both…

It was getting hard to think clearly.

“But I do want this,” I managed.

His hold on me tightened. His cock, hard and urgent, pressed against my core. His body trembled beneath mine as he fought to retain control over himself.

“I’m not good for you,” he murmured, his words ghosting over my lips. “I’m beginning to think I’m not good , period.”

Enough of this. I pulled back just enough that I could see his face. His jaw was slack, eyelids drooping with desire.

“Did you not hear what I said about my past?” I asked, incredulous.

“You think I’m some angel whose virtue needs protecting?

” On impulse, I shifted my hips, letting him glide through my folds.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and the groan that left him was broken, guttural.

Another small shift and he’d be inside me. My toes curled in anticipation.

“ Fuck ,” he moaned. “ Zelda .”

“I don’t care who or what you were before I met you,” I said. “All I care about is who you are now . You don’t get to decide what is and isn’t good for me. And no, I won’t tell you to stop. Because I don’t want you to stop.”

His answering groan was feral. “If you let me fuck you right now, I’ll never stop.”

It was a final warning. It was also one of the hottest fucking things anyone had ever said to me.

“I want this. I want you .” Peter’s eyes darkened even further, nostrils flaring. His resistance was crumbling. I could see him teetering on the edge. All it would take was one little push. So I shoved with both hands. “If I fuck you ,” I countered, “ I may never stop.”

Whatever tether he’d been keeping on his restraint snapped at my words.

Before I could catch my breath, he was kissing me again, hard and desperate.

His mouth was everywhere . My mouth, my neck—he couldn’t kiss me fast enough, couldn’t cover enough of my body with his lips and tongue.

He kept his vampire canines hidden behind his lips for the moment, but I knew they’d come out later.

I wanted them to. Now that we were here, and doing this, I wanted the aphrodisiac pleasure that only a vampire bite could bring.

Peter flipped us on a growl, pushing me onto the couch before leaning back on his haunches.

Gods, his body was the stuff of my filthiest daydreams. I sent up another silent prayer of thanks to whoever Human Peter had been for making him look like this.

His pleasured gasp was so loud when I reached up and slowly circled each nipple with a fingertip that I wondered how long it had been since someone had touched him like this.

I pushed the question out of mind as I slid my hands downward, tracing along his defined abs. It didn’t matter. I was touching him now. His reactions only emboldened me, making me want to touch him again and again.

Without warning, his hands shot up, encircling my wrists like a vise.

“No more teasing.” His tone brooked no opposition.

He hauled me into his arms with ease, maneuvering me like I was a doll in his arms, before settling me on his lap.

My body was putty in his hands, needing no encouragement beyond a simple touch to do exactly what he wanted.

I’d have been embarrassed by how much my body was reacting to his, how easily he got it to do exactly what he wanted it to do, if I weren’t so fucking turned on.

Every nerve ending in my body was alight, thrumming with need.

When he leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, the sound I made was barely human.

“ Peter .” I grabbed at the back of his head, twining my fingers through his soft hair, tugging.

Pulling him closer. Seconds stretched to minutes as all rational thought fled.

The gentle suction of his mouth, the swirl of his cool, wet tongue—it was electric.

Liquid fire in my veins. Better than magic.

I needed him inside me. We were still too far apart. “ Please .”