Her Vampire: An Instalove Possessive Vampire Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 207)

by Flora Ferrari

  “Tammy, you’re my woman. You’re the only woman I ever want to claim. And knowing you’re a virgin makes it even more special. Because now you’re mine. And you’ll always be just mine. I’ve allowed these modern times to change me in certain ways. I wear suits now instead of furs. I wield my wits in the world of business instead of an ax and a sword. But there are things about me which are still as old as forgotten legends, and one is that I need to own my woman. I need to claim you, Tammy. And what better way is there then being the only man who has had the goddamn privilege of plunging into your tight wet depths?”

  I feel the shiver in her body, sense it in the air. Her heartbeat quickens audibly and she bites her lip, a gesture that will never stop driving me to the verge of madness.

  “I’ve never even …”

  She trails off, wrapping her arms around herself.

  I feel my body starting to pulse, my veins threatening to flare the crimson of the feed. I take a bolstering airless breath and shake my head, trying to tame the beast inside of me that is so difficult to control when Tammy is around.

  “Never even what?” I growl.

  “Had an orgasm,” she laughs dully. “I mean, I’ve tried. On myself. But I guess I’ve always been too self-conscious, even with myself, you know? And it’s not like I was exactly being fought over in high school.”

  “That’s their loss,” I snarl. “You know that, don’t you, Tammy?”

  “I still can’t believe any of this,” she says. “It had to happen around Halloween, didn’t it?”

  My lips twitch. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, what are the chances this is real, and not some elaborate Halloween prank?”

  “I would never trick you,” I say firmly. “And anyway, the logistics of faking something like this … How would I do that?”

  “No, no,” she says, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I know. It’s just hard for me to wrap my head around.”

  “Let’s start small, then,” I growl, stalking closer, and closer, until the sweet womb-laden scent of her, is swirling around me like a welcoming tornado, spinning and captivating and pulling me toward her.

  I place my hands on her shoulders and squeeze, savoring the tremor that passes through her like a ghostly wind.

  “Trust me,” I say deeply.

  “I do,” she whimpers. “As freaking crazy as that is.”

  “Good. Because a woman as perfect as you deserves to know what an orgasm feels like.”

  She lets out a small cry when I guide her to the bed and push her down softly. I have to move with extra care. Otherwise, my vampiric fury will unleash and I could accidentally hurt her.

  I push her onto her back and then kneel down slowly, reaching up and grabbing the waistband of her jeans.

  I pull inch by inch, revealing her goose-pimpled flesh, her thick, gorgeous thighs red and hot and eager. I pull her shoes and her jeans off, leaving them crumpled on the floor.

  I sit back, staring, her pink cold-weather socks thick and her panties the same shade. There’s something intoxicating about her lying there in her socks, legs spread, a few spots of tangy juiciness on her panties showing me how badly she wants this.

  “I need to t-taste you,” I whisper, forcing the words out.

  My fangs flare brightly and part of me knows that this is a bad idea, that I’m dangerously close to losing any semblance of control. Part of me knows, but the rest doesn’t care, not with her thighs twitching, her moans filling the room in a siren song.

  “Fuck,” I snarl, tugging her panties down and revealing the glistening pinkness of her pussy.

  I lean forward, bringing my face close, repressing the urge to sink my teeth into the texture of her lips.

  Instead, I bring my tongue to her hole and circle it softly, her heartbeat filling the room like a drum now, her moans like a scream as I tune every one of my senses to her pleasure.

  I scent her desire rising higher and higher in the air.

  I feel her womb, eager, greedy, screaming for me to find her clit.

  I swirl my tongue around and around her hole, bracing my hands on her thighs, squeezing as hard as I dare, leaving handprints in her voluptuous flesh.

  Her taste blossoms on my tongue, the deep need of her, the sweetness, the tangy freshness, the hungry goddess within her.

  The sweetest meal, I lick faster, and faster, until I am moving with the speed of my kind.

  I move my flurrying tongue on her clit and attack it, pushing my face closer, and soon the room is filled with the primordial red pulsing of the feed.

  “Oh, fuck,” she moans.

  I can’t stop.

  She must have her eyes closed.

  Or she would be panicking as all mortals do.

  My veins pulsating red, I lick her, my tongue like a machine against the engorged glory of her perfect clit.

  I smell her orgasm seconds before it strikes her, a whelming deep inside of her, scorching through her and making every part of her tight. She gathers her energy into her center and her moan suddenly stops, turning echoed and hollow, as though she’s lost the power to form real sounds.

  “Oh—my—God—”

  Only a vampire could hear her words, several breaths below a whisper.

  “I’m—I’m—”

  I lick somehow faster, my tongue like the wings of a hummingbird, like a battering bolt of lightning, like a force of nature as I attack her clit with the fury of the undead.

  She gasps and squeezes her thighs close around my head.

  I open my mouth wide and suck on her pussy, slurping every part of her into my mouth, capturing her come as it squirts and creams from her hole all over me. I gulp and gulp as the red of the feed blares even brighter, quicker, more urgent.

  Urgent.

  “I need to taste you,” I moan, my voice no longer my own.

  It’s deep.

  It’s older.

  It’s the voice of the man I was over two-hundred years ago when I last tasted human blood.

  “Your thigh, your juicy fucking thigh. To bite it. To feel you creaming for me as I taste your virgin blood.”

  “Do it,” she whimpers.

  I smooth my hand up her leg and palm her pussy, grinding it forcefully.

  Stop, stop, a voice roars inside of me as I lean back, besieging her pussy with my hand and staring at the trembling flesh of her inner thigh.

  You can’t do this.

  But my body is primed to take her, all of her, as though all my thousand-plus years have led to this moment and this moment alone.

  My fangs spring forth and I bite into her thigh, sucking on the hot blood, feeling it mix with her creaming come in my mouth, the complexity of the flavors rushing to my head and then down my body to my manhood.

  My muscles swell and engorge as though my body is trying to tear itself apart, the blood hits me so powerfully, so intimately.

  I grind and grind and fucking grind her clit with my palm, making her come again, and again, a series of orgasms that cause her thighs to become soaked with her creaming wetness, sliding down and over the puncture marks my teeth make.

  This is wrong. I need to stop.

  But that voice is quiet, dim, falling into the background.

  All that exists is my queen.

  And she tastes so fucking good.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tammy

  I only realize just how crazy all this is when Torsten curses and stumbles backward, collapsing onto the floor and bringing a hand to his mouth to wipe away the blood.

  My blood.

  I stare as the unbelievable aftermath of the orgasms rush through me. The orgasms, multiple, too many to count as they hammered through me with the force of a revelation.

  I’ve never felt anything like that before, the sudden capturing euphoria of it, the way he pulled something hidden and special out of me.

  His body pulses slower now, and even that didn’t seem strange when he was rubbing my sex with a speed I could hardly
believe.

  With the speed of a vampire.

  It’s one thing to see him flitting around, but to actually feel him, the dormant primal power in his hand, the carnal speed, it’s something else entirely.

  He stares at the blood and then wipes his mouth thoroughly with the sleeve of his jacket. He pricks his finger with his fang and leans over to me, pressing it against my thigh. Warmth swells through me and I glance down to see his fang marks have healed over, the place where he bit flooded with contended heat.

  “Fuck,” he growls, standing up and stumbling to the window, moving like a man who’s had too much to drink. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

  “I told you to,” I say, feeling slightly offended. “It was in the heat of the moment. It’s okay, Torsten, you don’t have to be ashamed.”

  “What if I’d lost control and bled you dry?” he snarls, spinning on me, a shimmer of red flashing across his neck.

  I stand up and make to move toward him, but he takes a slow step back.

  “Your jeans,” he snarls huskily. “If you stay like that, I’m afraid of what I’ll do. I need to get myself under control. The way the light of your cream and your blood makes your thighs shine, Tammy, it’s like fucking hypnosis.”

  “Light?” I murmur. “It’s pretty dark in … Oh, right. Ah, silly me.”

  He smirks, some of the tension flowing out of him.

  I find my jeans and wriggle into them, sticky without my panties.

  Torsten looks at me with complete enthrallment swimming in his gaze, as though any second his inner beast could reemerge and force him to leap at me like the animal he secretly is.

  My head swims as I take in the enormity of his expression, the absolute dedication of it making the way the jocks used to look at the cheerleaders in high school seem insignificant in comparison.

  “I can’t believe you really want me that badly,” I whisper.

  “Well, believe it,” he laughs grimly. “Because I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything. And that’s what scares me. I’m just surprised you didn’t start screaming when I lite up red like a one-man disco ball.”

  I giggle. “Actually, that was kind of hot.”

  “You’re one of a kind, Tammy. Goddamn. You’re perfect.”

  I sit on the bed, squeezing onto my thighs, feeling more vivacious and alive than I ever have before.

  “I’m not going to turn into a vampire now, am I?” I joke.

  Or half-joke, anyway, since I’m not exactly sure how all of this works.

  “No,” he murmurs. “It’s not like the movies. Garlic does nothing to us. We have reflections. We can’t turn into bats. A blessed stake will kill us, that much is true. But water does nothing, holy or not. And vampires aren’t made by other vampires. They are – were – made by sorcerers. But there are none left. I’m the last alive, Tammy. So don’t fear. You won’t sprout fangs tomorrow morning.”

  “It must’ve been lonely,” I say. “Being on your own for so long.”

  He walks over to the bed and cups my chin in his hand, his skin turning cool again and sending shivers down my neck and over my body. But even as cold as the grave, there’s a tingly sensation to his touch that makes me want more, that makes me as hungry as he was when he bit me.

  “I have never wanted anyone else apart from you,” he whispers softly.

  “You’ve lived over a thousand years,” I say, stroking my hand up his arm. “Do you really expect me to—”

  “I would never lie to you.”

  He sits down next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close to him. Then he turns and takes a long inhale of my hair. Briefly, warmth blooms all through him, until with an effort he brings the cold back.

  “Shit,” he says, laughing grimly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you all these years to be on your own,” I mutter, trying to get him back on subject.

  “And you haven’t been on your own?” he probes.

  “Well, sure,” I say. “I didn’t exactly have friends at the orphanage. Singing was my only escape, really, because there was this one teacher who said I had talent and let me hang around the music room after class. She became a sort of mother figure, I guess you could say. But she passed a few years ago. And then I was on my own. I found Chipper, though.”

  “He’s a good dog,” Torsten says, gripping me tightly, his body so solid and strong I know that nothing in the world can hurt me right now. “A loyal friend.”

  “Yeah,” I say, stunned at the sob trying to creep into my voice. “He’s called Chipper because he was rescued from a wood chipper, you know. That’s what the guy at the rescue place told me. How could somebody be so evil to try and do that to an innocent animal?”

  “Live long enough and you realize there’s no limit to evil, Tammy,” he says. “Thank you for telling me more about yourself. It makes me feel closer to you.”

  “Wait a second …”

  I look up at him, grinning through the budding melancholy.

  “Did you just use one of your charm thingies on me? Because one second I was dead-set on asking you about yourself, and now here I am, spilling my ugly guts out.”

  His lips go tight at the word ugly, and he shakes his head slowly.

  “No part of you is ugly, Tammy.”

  “You’re a master at changing the subject.”

  He smirks briefly, flashing his human-looking teeth, his fangs retracted. “There was a war about two hundred years ago between humans and vampires. Some radical sorcerer became convinced that a leader of my kind had discovered a way to make more vampires without the need of a sorcerer. I was at the fringe of the war. I had no interest in it. I was older than most of the petty pups squabbling like humans. No offense.”

  I laugh, nudging him, my mind swimming as I try to convince myself yet again that this is all true.

  Outside, a light wind howls.

  The night watches.

  Moonlight shines into the bedroom.

  “Then what happened?”

  “The sorcerers won. They’d devised a spell to track every living vampire. Well, living-ish. They killed them all except for me, and then they came for me. There were four of them, they came for me in Iceland, where I’d made a home away from civilization.”

  “They tried to kill you,” I whisper, sensing where this is going.

  “Hmm,” he growls, nodding. “I tried to talk them out of it. I’d grown tired of violence a long time ago, perhaps even in my human life. But when you are attacked, you can’t cling to honor or high-flung ideas of being the better man. You have to remember that you’re an animal just like they are. And fight. So that’s what I did. I fought them and I won. And so I became the last magical creature in this world. There will be no more after me because despite what those idiot sorcerers believed, we didn’t find a way to make more vampires.”

  “What about more sorcerers?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Only sorcerers can make sorcerers, too.”

  “So they really shot themselves in the foot there,” I murmur.

  “Yes,” he says. “They did.”

  “And you’ve been on your own for two hundred years,” I say, trying to let the enormity of the time sink into my head.

  Trying and failing.

  “I was on my own for centuries before that. Because I never had you.”

  He leans in closer and brushes his lips against mine, body pumping warmly before he gets himself under control, a constant war of flaming lust.

  “Let me move you into an apartment befitting a queen,” he says. “You and Chipper deserve better than this neighborhood. Let me dote on you, Tammy. Because I … I’ve been waiting all my long life for you, and the idea of something happening to you turns me feral.”

  “Really?” I say. “You’d do that for me?”

  His smirk twitches and he cradles me to his chest. For a brief moment, I think I can fe
el his heartbeat, pounding, but then I realize it’s my own.

  “I would do anything for you, Tammy.”

  The apartment is absolutely freaking amazing, the sort of place I never dreamed I’d be able to live in a million years.

  Or maybe that’s a lie.

  Maybe I did dream about a penthouse with floor to ceiling windows in my sillier fantasies. When I was a successful singer, I’d buy a place that overlooked the city that had once been so cruel to me. But I never actually believed it would happen.

  I walk around the open-plan space, after Torsten’s driver drops me off, over the fur rugs, and into the kitchen of sleek marble surfaces. I stroll to the window and look down at the park, gorgeous even if it’s tiny below, and even if the clouds are shielding the sun and casting a gray night-like sheet over everything.

  But the best room, the room that makes me jump up and down like a little kid when I discover it – and Chipper to leap up on his little hind legs and dance around with me – is a freaking recording studio located at the rear of the apartment.

  I can barely believe that it’s true until I feel the equipment under my fingertips.

  “So you like it?” a voice comes from behind me.

  I gasp and turn to find Torsten there, leaning casually against the wall, his body covered in a suit the color of Nordic water.

  I must’ve been in here for ages if he’s here. The sun must have set.

  “Like it?” I gasp, looking around at the red-cushioned walls, the lamp sending a serene glow over everything. “It’s amazing. But you do realize I’m not a music technician, right? I’ve got no idea how to use this stuff.”

  “That’s fine,” Torsten chuckles. “I do.”

  “What? Seriously?”

  “I’ve had far too much time on my hands over the years,” he says. “Learning different skills is a hobby of mine. So whenever inspiration strikes, I’ll be there for you.”

  I stand up and walk over to him, feeling a blot of anxiety spreading like misty ink through my body. It touches every part of me as I clasp onto his shirt and bring myself closer to him. The naturalness of the gesture sends a shockwave through me.

  I still can’t believe this is happening.