Hot Vampire Next Door: Season One (Midnight Harbor Book 1)

Growing up with vampires, you hear stories about what it’s like to be bitten.

A pinch. A pleasure. A heady mix of lust and fear.

But I’m realizing now that being bitten isn’t a one-size-fits-all thing.

It’s like a sunrise.

Not a single one is the same.

When Bran sinks his teeth in my flesh, I gasp in surprise at the first pinch of pain. It sends a shockwave up my arm and instinct has me pulling away.

But Bran’s grip is tight, his hunger stronger.

I feel the blood leave me as he sucks from my vein, a mild pressure, and then the pain is fading away, replaced with a buzzy warmth that runs through my body like honey.

It’s over within seconds, and when he disengages from me, he collapses against the chair and slouches like he’s drunk, head lulled back, blood dripping from his fangs.

“Anything?” I ask. I’m feeling a little swimmy and lightheaded.

Bran’s bright amber eyes land on me, heavy and half-lidded. “It’s sweeter than it was before.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, sucking back the last drops. His mouth is bright red, teeth stained with blood.

“Do you feel okay?” I ask.

“I feel horny.”

I swallow hard, my gaze straying to his crotch and the considerable bulge of his cock.

“Besides that…”

He reaches across the table and grabs me by the arms, hauling me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him. He’s so hard it almost hurts.

He grabs my ass, rocking me against him, and a fluttery breath escapes me. I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning into him, and he brings his mouth to the V of my shirt, kissing along the sensitive flesh just above my breast.

“Do you remember me making you a promise, mouse?” He tugs down the collar of my shirt, exposing the cup of my bra.

“Yes,” I say, feeling the answering thrill of that promise between my legs.

He kisses along my bra, a tease of his lips on my skin.

“I always keep my promises,” he says.

“I know but—”

“But what?”

“But…shouldn’t we talk about this? When you bit me, could you tell if there was something wrong with me? Because—” his lips trail up the curve of my throat, closer to the rapid beat of my heart “—because I’m starting to worry and…”

He stops his pursuit of my pulse and looks up at me, eyes bright in the shadows. “There was something different,” he admits, “but I don’t know what.”

“Okay. So?”

He grabs my wrist again and holds my arm out where blood is still beading in the puncture wound, droplets sliding down toward the crook of my elbow.

Bran drags his tongue from the end of the trail all the way up to the teeth marks. He draws from the wound again, and his eyes glow brighter.

“Bran,” I moan. “Please. I don’t know what’s happening, and I feel out of control.”

He pulls back and regards me with a look so hot, I’m nearly trembling beneath it. “Then bend to mine, mouse.”

“What?”

“Bend to my control.”

My clit pulses beneath his words.

I think he’s trying to distract me. And it’s working.

Whenever he gets me like this, I’m mindless. Just body and pleasure and the delirious need for him.

He slides his hand around to the back of my neck, fingers almost bruising as he grips me tightly and rocks his hips forward, grinding me on his cock. “Say yes, mouse.”

Maybe he knows exactly what I need right now.

Maybe he knows better than I do.

I’m anxious and worried and…afraid. I’m afraid of what we’re uncovering.

And right now, I just want to run away from it.

As my life burns down around me, the only thing that feels right is giving in to the pleasure of Bran Duval.

“Okay.”

He stands in one swift motion, and I slid down the length of him. His grip still on my neck, he steers me into the living room. “Take off your clothes.”

The pressure disappears, and when I turn around, I find him leaning against the back of the couch.

“All of them?”

He says nothing, just watches, waiting.

Hands shaking, I take up the hem of my shirt and slide it off. I let it drop to the floor and then move to the button of my jeans, taking down the zipper.

Pants off, I kick them aside and stand awkwardly in my panties and bra.

“Go on, mouse.” He’s stoic and distant, but there’s a very clear bulge in his pants.

Reaching behind me, I unhook the bra, let the straps slide off my shoulders. Tossing it aside, my nipples immediately bud in the cool air.

“Pull your hair back,” he tells me, so I do, sliding it behind my shoulders so there’s nothing to shield me from his gaze.

With a deep intake of breath, I slip my panties off and stand there naked in front of him.

We were naked in the shower together, but somehow this is different.

I’ve never felt so vulnerable.

He’s silent as he takes in the sight of me.

“Get in that chair,” he orders and tips his head at the side chair behind me.

I make a move to sit, but he tsk-tsks. “No. Turn around. Knees on the seat.”

Oh god.

I give him my back, and as instructed, kneel on it, hands propped on the chair’s low back.

“Good girl,” he says, coaxing a buzzy thrill from my pussy. “Legs spread.”

I open as much as the chair will allow, bearing everything to him.

I can’t catch my breath, and I’m shaking and wound up tight.

I don’t know what he’s planning to do, but I’m nearly faint with wanting.

Goosebumps travel down my spine as the air parts when he comes over. He grabs me by the neck again as his other hand trails up the back of my thigh.

“Mouse,” he says, “you’re already dripping down your legs.”

I moan at the pressure of his grip and wiggle my hips as if I’m trying to tempt him to move faster.

And then he slaps my pussy with the flat side of his palm.

I let out a little yip and instinctively pull away, but he’s still got me by the neck and holds me in place.

“Who’s in control?” His mouth is suddenly at my ear.

“You are.”

His fingers come to barely an inch from my pussy, and I’m sick with wanting him to touch me.

Blood rushes to my clit, pulsing through me. I want to shift to feel him but have to clamp down on the need. I think he’d leave me high and dry and not think twice about it.

Now that I’m in it, as the lust is pounding through me, I need this. I need him to fuck me and drive away the chaos.

I need to feel in control by Bran being in control.

“We need a safe word, mouse,” he says, teasing his fingers closer to my wet slit. “Just in case I pound this little virgin pussy too hard.”

“I’ll be okay,” I say.

He spanks me again, and I jolt from the sting and pleasure, his fingers just grazing my clit enough to send a bright flash of pleasure through me. I exhale in a delirious rush.

“Give me a word, mouse. It can be anything.”

“Um…” I can’t think straight. I don’t want to delay it any longer. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Tomato.”

There’s a distant chuckle behind me. “Tomato,” Bran says. “Promise me you’ll use it if you need to.”

“I promise.”

“I’ll behave, but I plan to fuck you hard and fast. I will not be gentle.”

My chest tightens with the thrill of it. “Okay.”

He inches closer to my opening, and I get just the barest sensation from his fingertip grazing my wet opening. A ripple of excitement courses over me.

“You want to be fucked, mouse?”

“Yes.”

He finally drags his fingers over my wet center, and I moan into the back of the chair, arms shaking. He slips two fingers inside of me, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.

“Go on then.”

“What?” I squeak.

“Fuck yourself.”

He’s making me do it?

His grip on my neck squeezes just a fraction, coaxing me into action like I’m an animal. And maybe I am. I don’t feel cognizant of anything except for the driving need between my legs.

I shift my hips, pushing my ass back, fucking myself on his fingers.

“That’s a good girl,” he says and applies more pressure to my neck, driving me faster on his fingers.

The pressure builds. My breathing quickens. My shoulders are like gelatin, arms trembling. My swollen pussy is so slick, I can hear the distinct wetness of it as Bran’s fingers slide in and out.

I find a delicious rhythm chasing the orgasm, and then—

“Stop.”

His voice rings out with command, and I come to a halt, his fingers still curled deep inside of me.

I let out a little mewl of frustration.

I’m so close. My nerves are blinking like pulsating stars.

I want to come. I’ve never wanted anything more than I’ve wanted this.

I pant against the chair’s back, waiting and waiting.

“I can feel you clenching around me.”

“When?” It’s the only word I can get out.

When will you fuck me?

When will you end this torture?

How is he so in control?

The rasp of his zipper causes me to moan with anticipation.

“Get upstairs,” he says.

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I climb off the chair and hurry up the stairs completely naked and dripping wet.

“Faster, mouse,” he says on my heels.

I pick up the pace, the sensation of being chased sending a shiver down my spine.

I hurry down the hall and stumble into his bedroom.

Without warning, he’s on me, tossing me onto the bed on my stomach. He forces my legs open, grabs me by the hips, and yanks my ass into him.

The hot throb of his cock is suddenly at my wet opening.

I quiver against the sheets.

He holds himself there, the head of his shaft pressing so close. So close.

I have to fight the instinct to push into him.

“Bran, please,” I moan. “Please.”

“Don’t forget your safe word, mouse.”

“I won’t.”

And then he pushes inside of me.

The feeling of him filling me up is a sensation I wasn’t prepared for. And the hard drive of his hips, the pulse of his thickness, it makes white stars dance behind my eyes.

This is nothing like fucking myself with my toys.

This is raw and real and so fucking hot. I can’t find my voice or my thoughts.

I’ve never been so inside my own body and flying all at the same time.

Bran’s pace is brutal, punishing and not at all human.

I cry out, fingers clawed into the sheets.

The pain of being torn through for the first time ever is faint and faraway as the searing heat of him sheathed inside of me takes over, turning me mindless and blind.

There is only the pleasure and the descent into the madness of being steered into an orgasm by Bran and his commanding words.

I know in that moment I’m his.

I’ll do anything he tells me to do if only to experience this feral bliss every fucking day.

He grows harder the faster he punishes my pussy and my own orgasm builds.

“Not yet, mouse,” he says.

“I’m close.”

“Not yet.”

My inner walls clench up as if my pussy is willing him to let me let go.

In a blink, he pulls out of me, spins me around so I’m in his lap again, straddling him.

His hands at my hips, he guides me down the length of him.

“So fucking tight, mouse.” He pumps into me. “I knew fucking this pussy would be good, but I wasn’t prepared for how good.”

“You’ve thought about this?”

“I thought about this pretty little pussy on my cock every fucking day.”

Oh my god. Somehow this admission does more than the fucking. Pleasure is drumming through me now, threatening to spill over.

“Oh god,” I say on an exhale. “I can’t…anymore…”

“Go on,” he orders. “Come on my cock.”

That’s all it takes.

The orgasm tears through me. I can’t control the loud cry that comes out of my throat. Bran grips me tighter, holds me to him as my body quivers through the shock waves, curling into itself.

“Fuck, mouse.” The head of his cock throbs at the center of me, and then his pumping cadence falters, muscle and tendons constricting along his chest and down his arms as he spurts cum inside of me, a growl of pleasure coming out through his gritted teeth.

I’m still burning through my own pleasure, but I have to see him.

I want to see what I can do to him.

He lets out a panting breath, eyes burning in the shadows. The pleasure is etched in his face, in the lines around his eyes and the flex of his jaw as he pumps another load into me.

We ride through the last ebb together and then collapse against one another, breathing hard. We stay like that for a long time before Bran finally pulls out of me.

“That was…intense,” I admit with a laugh.

“Don’t leave Midnight,” he says suddenly.

“What?”

“Don’t leave.”

“Why?”

The glow in his eyes intensifies as he grits his teeth as if me making him elaborate is a discomfort he doesn’t want to endure.

“Why Bran?”

“Because I don’t want you to.”

His admission burns through me, lights a fire in my chest.

I wish I could leave it at that, bask in the glow of it.

But I can feel there’s more.

“And?”

“And,” he says. “I did sense something in your blood.”

“You did? What?”

He lifts me off of him and sets me on the edge of the bed.

“Bran.”

In a blur of movement, he’s gone. The tap in the bathroom turns on.

“Bran!”

I find him bent over the sink, water dripping from his face.

“Tell me.”

He sighs. “Fae,” he answers. “When I bit you without the necklace on, I could taste fae in your blood.”