Not His Vampire: Vampire Romance (Not This Series Book 3)

by Annie Nicholas

  Viktor popped open the trunk and handed her the jack kit. “Looks like the spare is underneath. Can you loosen the bolt to lower it?” He pointed at the floor of the trunk before kneeling to look under the vehicle. “Fuck that dragon.”

  She paused as she fitted the tool to the bolt. “What now?” She did her best to ignore the dark forest on both sides of the road. She had seen a horror movie with this exact scene and she could swear she saw movement in the underbrush.

  Viktor scooted out from under the car. “There is no spare.”

  She dropped to her knees and scanned the undercarriage. “That’s impossible. Who does that?”

  “A shifter who has wings and can carry a car.” Her sire leaned against the vehicle’s side and slid to sit next to her.

  “Viktor.” Panic pitched her voice higher. She crept closer to him. “We won’t reach Riverbend now.” Her heart was a tattoo in her chest.

  “Come here.” He held out his arms and guided her into a hug. “We will find shelter. I did not reach this age because I lack the intelligence to problem solve.”

  His arms were strong and gave her an anchor to cling to as she scanned the forest for a cave or cabin or a trash can with a lid. “You never answered my question about how you traveled between cities before cars.” She twisted to face him.

  “Like everyone else. By horseback or carriage or my own two feet.” He tucked her hair behind her ears, his gaze steady as if admiring her face. “When there was no shelter available, we would bury ourselves in the ground.”

  “Say—” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “Say what?”

  “That is where the myth of us being dead came from. Someone must have witnessed a vampire digging their way out of the ground.”

  Oh, it was fun fact time. Not. “You want to bury me in the ground.” She paused. “With bugs. I mean, what do you do if one crawls in your ear. Is there wiggle room? Are we going to hide in the same hole? What if it rains? We can’t dro—”

  He pressed his finger across her lips for silence. “Have I not taken care of you so far?”

  “Yes.” He’d done nothing but take care of her since she’d awakened as a vampire.

  He rose to his feet in a fluid motion, a grace that spoke of deadly stealth and agility. It stole her breath. With less poise, she scrambled to her feet as he bent to assist her. They collided midway, his hands supporting her elbows and his hair a veil around their faces. She couldn’t move, caught in his dark gaze, she had no desire to retreat from his hold.

  An amused smile tugged at his lips as if he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on her.

  She licked her dry lips.

  His gaze darted to the movement, riveted by the small gesture.

  She deliberately took a step back. This wasn’t the time or place and she didn’t want to distract Viktor from saving their collective bacon before it was sizzled. “What do we do?”

  “Place the vehicle into neutral gear.” He closed the trunk and rolled up his sleeves, resting his hands on the car. “When I push, steer toward the tree line.”

  “Why?” She didn’t see any path or dirt road.

  He scowled. “Do it.”

  Trust. She was supposed to blindly trust this person she just met yesterday.

  He pushed the sedan, flat tire and all, onto the wild growing grass strip separating forest from road.

  She did as ordered. What could she say? He’d survived centuries. She hadn’t lived thirty years yet.

  He kept the momentum until they were well into the forest, packed between the trees, under the canopy.

  She scanned the tree tops. “I don’t think the foliage is thick enough to block out the sun.” She didn’t think such a forest existed.

  “No, but they will provide shade so the trunk stays cool.”

  She spun to face him. “Did you say trunk?”

  He popped it open again and tossed the contents on the forest floor. He paused when he came out with a bugle. “The dragon has this but not a spare tire.” He shook his head, muttering under his breath in what sounded like Russian. Once done, he gestured to the empty space. “Climb inside.”

  The bottom went out of her stomach. “You’re going to close me inside?”

  “I can dig you a hole.” His grin could have cut glass. “I am sure the bugs will not mind.”

  She sat on the edge of the trunk. “This is fine, but I hate enclosed spaces.” She crawled inside and lay on her back.

  Viktor followed. “I will keep you distracted.”

  “There’s not enough room for both of us.” She was tall and had to bend her knees to fit. Viktor was even taller. Not to mention the width of his shoulders.

  “Nonsense.” He wedged himself inside, shoving her against the inner wall. “See, like sardines.” With that, he closed the trunk lid.

  “How are they supposed to get out?” She peered in the dark, allowing her eyesight to adjust.

  The iris of Viktor’s eyes glowed with an inner light. A predator’s gaze. “I will break the lock from within.” He said it as if they should do these things, like break locks, every day. Silly her.

  “Can you see in the dark?”

  “Yes.” He groaned and adjusted his legs.

  “Is this another talent that comes with age?” Her vision had improved a lot but she wouldn’t say she could see well in the trunk.

  Viktor squirmed again. “Trixie, your knee.” He tapped her leg. “It is crushing my family jewels.”

  “Your what?”

  “My balls.”

  She gasped and hit her head on the lid. “Sorry.” With a little contortion, she managed to shift her position. Now, she was on top of Viktor.

  He rested his hands on her ass. “Much better.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Viktor bit back a moan as Trixie wiggled and did little female movements as if trying to give him more space. She succeeded only in getting closer and him more aroused. He listened to her racing heartbeat, smelled the sweat beading on her skin. The hunger gained strength, but instead of blood, it unfurled into a fiercely sexual desire.

  Her luxurious hair—a gift from vampirism—poured over his chest and shoulders. He could not resist stroking it. Petting her.

  “Viktor?” She clutched his biceps. “I can’t breathe.”

  He stopped what he was doing and reassessed Trixie’s scent. He had mistaken her stress for arousal.

  She pushed against the trunk’s lid. “Open it.”

  “We will both die if I do. The sun has risen.” He pulled her hands into his, pressing kisses to her palms.

  “We’ll die if we stay in here.” She panted.

  “We will not.” He stroked her cheek unable to stop touching her. Skin so soft and unblemished under his fingertips.

  Vampires by nature were beautiful. He would even dare say they evolved this way to hunt, so much easier when the prey came to you. His growing attraction to Trixie had less to do with her exterior. Her kindness disarmed him. Her soul pulled him in. She was the flame to his moth and the burn of her touch was excruciating pleasure.

  Her breathing slowed.

  He kissed her forehead, taking his time. They had all day to explore each other.

  “How can you tell the sun has risen?”

  “I can sense it.” He guided her head to rest over his heart. “Close your eyes and clear your thoughts. You should sense it too. This is a basic survival instinct in our race.”

  She grew quiet and still. “I—” She hesitated and squirmed some more.

  Have mercy.

  “I think I’m hearing it.” She shook her head in the tight confines. “Hearing is the wrong word.” She tapped the inside of the trunk. “It’s that way. The sun pulls at me.”

  “Correct. Some of our scientists think we sense the sun’s gravity.

  “We have scientists?” Her tone flat.

  He chuckled. “Of course, we do. Not all of us live under nightclubs.” She had the whole world to explore and learn
. He envied her this. She would grow into her vampire senses, but until then he would not leave her side and maybe, experience some of her wonder.

  Her weight was slight, her whole body built lean and lithe. He felt the goodness in her heart when her eyes looked into his, felt her strength of will inside those fragile bones. She was strong and she would need that strength to control her predatory nature.

  She shifted her legs and straddled his hips. “That’s better. I don’t feel so squished, but something’s poking…” Her breath hitched and he knew she was blushing fiercely. He could almost taste it in the air.

  He was used to his sexuality, but what he wasn’t accustomed to was it reacting so intensely to a woman he’d barely met. His body betrayed how much he enjoyed her proximity. Hundreds of years old and suddenly his dick thought it was seventeen again. He relaxed his arms, resting them at his sides.

  She did not push him away or roll off. The cramped space did not give them room to maneuver, but remaining in this position was not required.

  “Sorry,” she whispered and surprised a chuckle out of him.

  “For what? Being so charming.” He exhaled close to her ear. “I thought we had agreed that we liked each other.”

  She pressed her hands flat against his chest. Her touch was pure fire. The burn sealed his decision. He would have her. Vigorously. In this car. Repeatedly. Until she begged for mercy. Then he would have her again.

  She undid the top buttons of his shirt. Her hands trembled as her fingers slipped inside, branding his skin. “Is this okay?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Of course.” Why would it not be?

  Viktor’s hard body lay very still under Trixie’s. He’d gone from caressing and kissing her to his hands at his side.

  Was she doing it wrong? His erection still pressed against her. That was a good sign.

  Dangerous and powerful, Viktor was the most exotic man she’d ever met. The urge to run her fingers through his hair was impossible to resist. She breathed a soft sigh of frustration. He was too big, too intimidating. She withdrew her hand. What was she thinking? She wasn’t worldly. Seducing someone like Viktor needed know how and she was all virgin thumbs.

  “Do not stop.” His voice had gone rough. There was nothing threatening about his tone, but it was full of demand.

  She undid the remainder of his buttons. Smooth skin covered granite muscles. Fascinated, she couldn’t resist stroking him.

  His fingers tunneled in her hair and he pulled her closer, brushing a kiss over her lips.

  She played with fire. Viktor wouldn’t stop if she told him to because he wasn’t some human boy she’d met at a dance club—he wasn’t someone who followed anyone’s commands. Not even a fire breathing dragon with anger management issues. And still she ran her hands under his shirt, caressing his flanks, as if willing to do anything he desired. Subconsciously, she didn’t want him to stop.

  He retreated.

  Her mouth tingled with sensory memory of his lips. She ran the tip of her tongue where they’d been, soothing the empty ache. He wasn’t her first kiss, but damn, in comparison to her previous experience he might as well have been.

  Viktor threatened it all. Her mind, her heart, her vow. She was willing to hand it all over. Her hands moved to grip his shoulders, pulling her closer for another kiss that was so luscious, she melted. He was all slow heat and seduction against her mouth while his hands moved under the hem of her T-shirt.

  The lightning in her bloodstream was a heated caress, the pulse between her legs an unsettling but exquisite pleasure.

  He was driving her mad. His hands cupped her lace covered breasts.

  It didn’t matter. She was already insanely crazy about him.

  He kissed a line down her throat, speaking between each caress. “I want to be inside you.” He thrust his hips, sandwiching her hips between the trunk lid and his hard package.

  In the dark, stars still flashed in her vision at the unexpected onslaught of carnal sensation. A whimper escaped her throat, her hands spasmed on his shoulders. He was magnificent. “Oh my god,” she gasped. “I thought I was doing this all wrong.”

  The grinding slowed. “Why would you think that?” His hands slid from her breasts to her hips.

  She petted her hands over his bare torso like before and leaned in for another kiss. “No reason.”

  Instead of accepting her invitation for more, he gripped her wrists. “You are a terrible liar.”

  Her heart thudded violently enough to hurt. She’d never been so thankful for the dark. Yet she hid her face against his chest.

  “Trixie, what are you not telling me?” He stroked her hair. Soothing, Caring. Then he gasped. “I remember, in my cell tasting your human blood.”

  The earlier inferno of passion extinguished. She should have been relieved but she was surprised to feel disappointed.

  “Virgin,” he whispered.

  She kept her flaming cheek pressed to his chest. It wasn’t shame that made her feel so awkward. It was fear of rejection. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  He let out a long, slow breath and massaged the bridge of his nose.

  She wanted to crawl into a hole with the bugs—or better yet—into the sunshine.

  “You have great instincts.” He shifted his hips and adjusted his pants.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “No.” He cupped her face and pressed a long, tender kiss to her mouth, slow and warm and so very possessive. “No apologies. I am the one who is sorry.”

  “You’re not mad?” Her heart triple beat and she slid his shirt off his shoulders, wishing for a head lamp or any light source so she could appreciate those cut abs. She wanted him like no other.

  He moaned and caught her wrists in his hands.

  “You don’t want me?” The question rhetorical since she knew the answer. Stomach sinking, she tried to gather the tatters of her dignity. No pouting. Definitely no crying. If a tear formed, she’d punch herself in the eye.

  “Woman.” He slid her off him so they lay facing each other, and he gripped her hair. “You are driving me wild.”

  Her thighs pressed together, a strange fire burned even the darkest, most secret part of her. “Viktor.” She didn’t know what she was asking for, her heartbeat an erratic beat against her ribs.

  Viktor was careful of his strength. The cramped confines limited what they could do. It also trapped Trixie with a monster whose restraint tended to dissolve easily. He craved her like drowning man craved air. “Your deflowering will not happen inside the trunk of a car.” Those were the most difficult words he had ever managed to say.

  Her breasts pressed against his chest as she breathed heavily.

  A growl escaped his throat. He fought the urge to tear off her clothes. “It is not the right thing to do.”

  “Oh.” She sounded so defeated that he pressed her to the floor of the trunk before he restrained his wild needs again. So close. So soft. How were they going to survive each other until nightfall?

  Trixie shifted instinctively under him, cradling him right where he wanted to be.

  The hot, sun-heated lid of the trunk burned his back. Pain grounded his passion. “This does not mean I will not play.” So he kissed her again. Her mouth was open and he was so tempted to sweep his tongue inside, savor what he craved with every hard inch. He fisted his hand in her hair tighter. She might not believe it, but he was trying to be good.

  Trixie needed release. He would damn well give her one. Those urgent little movements of her body were charming him out of his good intentions. She arched up, rubbing her chest against his.

  “Baby, I am not a good person. Do not test me.”

  “I know exactly how bad you are.” Her hands swept along his sides as she scratched her nails over his skin.

  “Harder.” He hissed and had his mouth on Trixie’s before he could think about the consequences. He would keep his promise and not take her virginity in this pit of darkness, but he would have
her eventually. That promise he would keep. The violent need to claim her to the core was a gnawing ache in his gut. He wanted the world to know she was his—make certain no one would dare lay a finger on her. Running his tongue along the seam of her lips, he urged them to part. When she did, he swept in without hesitation, taking, tasting, claiming.

  Her kiss was hesitant, and shy and so arousing, he had to lock his arms to keep from tearing her shirt asunder and cup her sweet, plump breasts in his palms while taking her wholly in a more demanding and sexual fashion. Instead, he let her sip at him, let her explore with the tip of her delicate tongue. He shuddered, his pants so tight the zipper would leave a permanent mark on his cock.

  She did it again. Trixie was proving to be a quick study.

  His lips curved into a feral smile before he sucked on her bottom lip then bit down.

  She jerked, changing position slightly, tilting her hips so the heat between her thighs was right where he wanted it. She gasped and clung to his shoulders. “V—Viktor.”

  Her stutter was adorable. That mouth so lush and wet he could not resist imagining what he wanted her to do with it. She rolled her hips instinctively against him.

  “Give in,” he whispered. “I will make you feel good.

  Trixie’s throat dried up. Hands on her hips. Warm. A little rough. She sucked in a breath when his fingers traced the edges of her jeans to the fastenings.

  He kissed her neck, sucking on the beat of her pulse. At the same time, he undid the button and zipper. “Can I touch you?”

  Gasping in a breath, she buried her face in his hair. He smelled of desire and heat that was pure aroused male. Would it be like this with any other man? No, she already knew this answer. It would never be like this nor would it ever be again. She nodded, not trusting her voice would work.

  His still-covered cock pressed against her as he slid his fingers smoothly inside her panties, parting her with more intimacy. He pinched her clitoris, that nub of nerve endings, and rocked their hips together. “Do you like that?”