3. Autumn

CHAPTER 3

Autumn

" I t's all about the chase," he tells me.

Each word, each breath seems punctuated by the slightest movement of his hand. He is overwhelming and utterly intoxicating. I've never met a man like him before.

"Presenting yourself without being too explicit, if that's the way you'd like to go," he says.

His eyes rake up my body, lingering at the expanse of skin at my chest. When I was in the pumpkin head, it was easier to ignore how bare I felt. I left my scarf in Andy's car and knew he would get mad at me if I made him come back just to give it to me.

Vincent leans in close, staring at my lips until he gets nearly close enough to kiss me before bending his head to my ear.

"But the true test is the tease," he whispers.

I feel his cool breath on my neck as a thrill runs down my spine. Is he teaching me how to flirt or is he just flirting with me? I slide my hand up his chest, his neck, until it cups his cheek, pulling him back in front of me. Our eyes lock again—and it's just as terrifying as it was the first time. I don't look anyone in the eye. Especially not lithe, six foot two hunks with red contacts and enough charm to seduce the pants off anyone.

"Careful," I warn him. "You're not a real vampire, biting will probably hurt."

He grins, I feel it under my palm and marvel at his dimples. What vampire has dimples? My thumb traces the dimple closest. His eyelashes flutter as he grabs my wrist. I try to silence my excited gasp—one I wasn't expecting to make.

Am I into that?

He seems to see it too, his grin growing wider and somehow more predatory in a way that entices me instead of making me feel like I want to run away.

"Of course, none of this matters unless the person you're flirting with is into it," he says, guiding me backwards with my wrist. "So I must ask, Autumn, is this what you want?"

My foot hits the wall first. His other hand comes down to guide my hip gently against the wall. Vincent's thumb rubs gently across my wrist as he eyes me like he can't wait to do more. My body longs for every touch, awakened after a decade of loneliness and grief. Suddenly, it's like I want nothing more than to let him touch me. Somehow, I'm sure that no matter what he does, I'll like it.

The chase , I remind myself. Don't give in too easily, that's what he meant, right?

"What… what is it you're offering?" I ask, trying to hide how nervous I feel.

Am I shaking? My whole body thrums with anticipation, positively buzzes . He moves in close, his lips less than an inch from mine as he teases his mouth before me.

"We can start with a kiss," he offers.

Halfway through a nod, our lips connect. He's soft but surprisingly cool. My lips graze against his incisors, and I'm shocked by how sharp and secure they feel. I must be overheating from the anxiety, not to mention my imagination is happy to work overtime and think all of this is real. I can't figure out if he was lying about the dead wife, but it seemed so earnest. Even if he made up the lore, I really do think he lost his partner.

But I'm not supposed to think about that, I'm supposed to be focusing on the flirting. Well, I suppose we've moved past flirting now. With a growl, he shoves my wrist into the wall, holding them between one hand.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

My heart aches as I remember the last time anyone checked in with me on how I felt—Teddy. I nod, desperate to feel loved like that again. Or at least worshipped and appreciated. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but Vincent seems plenty happy to provide. His other hand massages at my waist as he deepens the kiss, only coming up for air when I gasp for it—as if he doesn't need to breathe. He kisses along my neck, those fake incisors scraping gently at the skin as he kisses and licks his way down.

He seems to linger along the vein, making me chuckle. "I get it, you're a vampire."

I feel him shake his head as he kisses his way down my neck to my chest.

"Your skin is so soft," he murmurs. "Exquisite. Your neck, your breasts…"

I squirm beneath him, unused to the compliments.

"Are you desperate for more?" he whispers, his hand pulling at my skirt.

"Yes," I tell him, holding back a needy, desperate moan that builds within me as he gets closer to my center.

In a flash, he drops to his knees, letting go of my wrists. For a moment, I stand there frozen as I realize what he's offering. He looks up at me, his eyes seemingly brighter. It must be the angle, the way the light hits makes it seem as if they glow. As he pushes the skirt up, I realize my hands could do a more important job than hang over my head and grab the fabric from him.

"Good girl," he murmurs.

I squirm again, trying not to resist as he pulls my shaking legs apart to allow him access.

"Okay?" he asks.

Again, that pang of the past shoots across my heart. And again, I ignore it, only nod fervently and let out a long, long breath to prepare myself.

But there was no preparing for this. Vincent scrapes his teeth along my thighs before pulling my panties aside to kiss my cunt. I gasp, the hallway in front of me suddenly so very apparent. We are shadowed at the end of it, and I can only just see the other masquerade attendees, completely absorbed in their dances. Any one of them could look our way, and if the hallway isn't as dim as I think it is, they'd see Vincent going down on me. I moan at the thought—and at his exploration of my soaking wet lips and clit.

I gather the skirt tighter in one hand as I reach forward with the other, burying it in his thick, red curls. He snarls, pressing against my stomach as his other hand pulls my leg wide and over his shoulder. His tongue plunges deep between my lips before he drags his lips over my clit to suck hard. I claw my fingers into his scalp, to which he moans with approval.

"Oh my god," I gasp. "You're so…"

Words escape me as the pleasure builds deep within me, coiling tight in my stomach in a heated tangle. He pulls his hand down from my stomach, teases along my lips, before plunging one and then another into my sex.

"This is a lot, oh god, I should—" I try again, lost in the pleasure. There's a million things I should do that are not this, but I want nothing to do with anything that separates Vincent's mouth from my center.

He pulls away, a devilish grin spread across his lips, damp with my desire. He cocks his head towards the other attendees, before flicking his eyes up to mine.

"Too loud and someone's bound to hear," he says, fully aware that nothing separates us from the rest of the crowd save for darkness and thirty feet. "But I won't be upset if they do."

My only hope is the noise of the party in the main ballroom is so loud no one will hear me. He may not care, but I don't know how I'd live with myself. Maybe if I still had the pumpkin head on. That was my mistake—taking it off. The whole point to it was that I could get outside of myself, but with Vincent's admission, I felt like the barrier was rude.

He continues his worship of my vagina, two fingers now filling me as he licks and sucks me closer to orgasm. When a third finger fills me, he latches on, his teeth grazing either side of my clit and sending me over the edge. I go limp against the wall, barely holding myself up as he holds me steady. Before I've fully come down, he rises to his feet and presses me hard against the wall, kissing me with a ferocity he seemed to only just hold back while going down on me. I whimper against his mouth, trying to keep up with his tongue and teeth. My lips feel bruised and battered with his efforts and I can barely breathe. I gasp for breath as he moves from my mouth to my cheek, dragging my arousal across my face as he searches out my neck.

And then he bites. Hard. And it fucking hurts .

I push him away, just as hard. He looks back at me in shock. As if he fully expected whatever magic vampire shit happens to people in movies and books to happen in real life.

"Excuse you?" I say, still thrown off by how powerful my orgasm felt. I have a hard time sticking up for myself, but letting a complete stranger chomp at my neck seems like a decent enough reason even for me.

"My… apologies. I can try again—I promise it won't hurt much," he says, panting.

His face contorts and suddenly I'm aware of vicious lines to his face I didn't see before. Maybe it was the pumpkin-vision. The stupid head made it a little hard to see people, and he looked a lot prettier before he made me come on his face.

Not a phrase I thought I'd think before this moment. I need to get away. Especially if he's really intent on biting me again.

"No, I'm good. It will hurt, and… um, thank you for the orgasm and everything, I hope you don't think it's rude—I would have given you a handy or a blowjob in return, but the neck thing was a bit much," I rattle off.

I sound insane. I sound genuinely insane. Apparently I can't make up my mind whether I have any self esteem or not. But I do know that I'm done here. Whatever I'm looking for, it's not some weird dude taking his cosplay too far.

"Wait, Autumn," he protests.

I shake my head and run forward, into the throng of masquerade attendees, desperate to get away.