On The Run With A Vampire

13. Raven

CHAPTER 13

RAVEN

Lucien stares at me. And stares, and stares, and?—

“No.”

I scowl at him. “What do you mean, no? Do you, or do you not, need to feed right now?”

Lucien eyes me warily, like he’s worried he’s about to walk headfirst into a trap. Maybe he is. “I don’t understand what relevance that has to your request.”

I hold out a hand and extend two fingers. “Our options are—” I fold down one finger. “You head out there, pluck some poor soul off the street, suck them dry, and add another body to our worryingly long list of crimes. Or—” I fold down the second finger. “You take what you’ve got. Me.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“You need to feed, and I’m here,” I shrug like it’s no big deal and I regularly request vampires to feed from me. “No one has to get hurt, and we can get it over with without putting us in even more danger. What’s it going to be?”

For a second, I’m sure he’s not going to agree. His eyes are hard and cold, but then his gaze flickers downward, and when he looks back up at me, they’re softer. He shifts uneasily in his seat and then runs a hand through his inexplicably still-perfect hair, as if that might help clear his thoughts.

“Bloodlust isn’t to be treated lightly, Ms. Hartley,” he says, finally. His voice is low, pained almost. “I don’t want—I don’t want to hurt you.”

I reach out a hand and place it gently on his arm. I’m pretty sure I feel him relax ever so slightly as soon as my hand makes contact. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” I have no idea how I can say that with full certainty, but I know it’s true.

His jaw ticks, and we sit in a stubborn, charged silence for a few beats. Then, with a resigned sigh, he nods slowly. “Fine,” he says, the word barely more than a whisper. “But only because I’m quite close to collapsing. And this is a one-time thing.”

I snort. “Don’t worry, becoming your personal blood bank isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

His lips quirk into a lazy half-smile. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

I get half a second to brace myself, and then he’s leaning across the console, running a hand along my jaw and down my neck. I shiver at the touch, but I don’t know why. It’s unexpectedly tender, more of a caress than anything else, really. The kind of way you hold someone precious to you, and not the random woman whose life you accidentally upended.

I can’t help but think back to Halloween two years ago, and how every instinct in me had been screaming at me that this man was dangerous. That I needed to get away from him. I needed to run.

I don’t feel any of that now.

Not for the first time, I have to wonder if there’s something deeply wrong with me because a vampire is currently caressing my neck, and all I can think about is the fact that I could easily get used to this.

Lucien’s fingers trace a slow, deliberate path down my neck, stopping just above the spot where my pulse thrums steadily. His touch is feather-light, as if he’s afraid that any sudden movement might shatter the spell and ruin whatever this is between us.

“I’ll do it quickly,” he murmurs, his lips just a hair’s breadth from my own. “It’ll be over before you know it.” He catches my eye, and then his lips curve upwards into a small, bittersweet smile before he tilts my head to the side.

I hold my breath as he leans in and brushes his lips against my skin. The touch is so fleeting, it’s almost like a kiss. I can’t decide if I’m imagining the murmured thank you I hear, but then he bares his fangs, and my mouth drops open in a silent gasp.

It’s…

It’s not what I’d expected.

From my limited knowledge of vampire lore—thank you, Buffy and Twilight —I’d been expecting searing pain; an immediate and overwhelming sensation that would leave me reeling and writhing underneath him, desperate to break free.

There’s none of that.

The pressure of his bite is gentle at first, and when the pain does come, it’s nothing more than a quick sting that fades into a dull throb almost immediately.

I hear a soft, almost imperceptible sigh from him as his tongue laps over the spot he pierced, like he’s trying to soothe the minute pinpricks of pain. And then he starts sucking.

As he drinks, the world around me blurs in the most delicious kind of way, and something ignites in the pit of my stomach. I can’t help the soft groan that falls from my lips as Lucien’s grip on me tightens. He threads his fingers through my hair and gives my curls a tug.

Anyone passing in the street right now would probably mistake us for a couple getting intimate in the car.

I try to remind myself that this is purely for survival, that he’s just feeding to get his energy back up, but it’s hard to keep my thoughts steady when Lucien pulls back suddenly. His eyes are dark and hooded, his lips are stained with my blood, and there’s a thin trail of it trickling down his jaw.

My pussy twitches.

Fuck. Why am I attracted to this?

Without breaking eye contact, Lucien rubs his thumb along his jaw, swipes away the blood, and licks it up. “Ms. Hartley,” he murmurs. “You are… exquisite.”

“I—”

In one swift movement, he pulls me over the console, so I’m sitting sideways across his lap, and resumes drinking from me. He keeps one hand tangled in my curls, and moves the other to rest against the small of my back, holding me firmly in place. There’s no need for that. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

I arch my back, pressing myself closer to him as he continues to feed from me. The sensation of his lips against my skin and the gentle pull of his sucking sends delicious shivers down my spine. Every nerve in my body is alight, and I want more.

I need more.

I moan softly, and the sound mingles with Lucien’s low growls as he drinks from me. His hand on my back drifts downward until he’s brushing up against the crest of my ass. I wiggle slightly, suddenly desperate for his hand to drop just a little lower.

More.

I roll my hips, trying to coax his hand where I need it, but the movement sends me slipping forward slightly. Lucien reflexively spreads his legs to give me more room on his lap and, in the process, his dick presses firmly against my inner thigh.

Oh.

The ‘T his is just for survival. You’re nothing more than food for him ’ mantra that’s been playing on repeat in my mind lessens to a quiet murmur.

I rock my hips more, purposely rubbing against him. Lucien lets out a low moan, his hardness growing against my thigh as his grip on my hair tightens.

My skin is tingling all over. His touch feels like an electric current running through my veins. I don’t think I can take much more.

The hand just above my ass suddenly slides down further, dipping in between my thighs.

More.

My breath comes out in frantic little pants as my hips keep moving, desperate for his fingers to continue their dance upwards toward my throbbing core.

More. More. More.

“Lucien—”

It’s like all the air has been sucked out of the car. Just as it feels like I’m about to erupt from the sheer arousal coursing through me, Lucien stops. He freezes, fingers just shy of their final destination, and then everything happens in a blur of motion.

One moment I’m half-straddling him, grinding against his fully clothed dick while he sucks at my neck and trails a scorching path up my thighs. The next, I’m back in my own seat, desperately trying to catch my breath.

“I’m done feeding,” Lucien says stiffly. His voice sounds slightly strained.

I glance over at him, but he’s staring determinedly out the window. I don’t know why, but I feel strangely like I’ve been rejected. “Are you feeling better?”

His jaw tenses, and he still won’t look at me. “Somewhat.”

This is because I moaned, isn’t it? The poor man was just trying to get some sustenance, and I had to go and make it weird by moaning and grinding on him like a maniac.

Though he was the one getting hard, so it’s not like I was alone in my sudden horniness. I definitely didn’t imagine that. But maybe that always happens when he feeds. Maybe a throbbing erection is just a side effect of being a vampire that nobody knows about. I suppose there aren’t many people alive right now who would know.

Either way, there’s no need for this sudden, awkward silence that’s blanketed us as Lucien restarts the car. Lucien is over 100 years old, for God’s sake. Surely we can be mature adults about this.

I clear my throat. “It must get annoying, right?”

He shoots me a sideways glance. “What must get annoying?”

“That happening every time.” I nod toward his still obviously hard dick. “Or have you just gotten used to it by now?”

“I—You—That is—” Lucien splutters nonsensically for a few more seconds before he shakes his head. “Sure.”

“‘Sure’ it’s annoying, or ‘Sure’ you’ve gotten used to it?”

“Whatever option will end this conversation,” Lucien says through gritted teeth.

If he could blush, I imagine his cheeks would be stained red right about now.

“Fine,” I sniff and click my seatbelt into place. If Lucien doesn’t want to be a mature adult, then I won’t push him. “What’s the plan?”

“Since we can’t return to my home,” Lucien starts, shooting me a pointed look. “We’ll have to rely on the supernatural community for support.”

“You mean your mother?”

Lucien shudders. “Absolutely not. Mother being involved is the absolute worst-case scenario.”

“Even worse than being shot with a stake twice?”

“Yes.”

Damn. “OK. Then Blaine? Or your other friend? What was his name? Warren?”

Lucien chuckles. “If I thought we could make it to Blaine’s part of the estate before those imbeciles found us, we’d be there by now. And Warren is less of a friend these days and more of a—” He clicks his tongue and then shakes his head. “Let’s just say Warren would be unlikely to offer any assistance. In fact, I think he’d be quite amused by this whole situation.”

There’s a story there, but now isn’t the time to ask. “Your mother is out of the question, Blaine is too far away, and this Warren guy would be useless. I definitely don’t have anyone we can turn to. So where are we going?”

He gives me a slightly sheepish grin. “We’re going to unburn some bridges.”