Lothaire

27

The fog receded. Lothaire wasn’t dreaming.

He had one of his hands on a tender breast, his other steadily inching Elizabeth’s lingerie up her taut thighs.

How had he gotten into this position? He couldn’t remember. Why did he taste her delicious blood? Why couldn’t he recall—

Wait. Had she been questioning him? As his mind began to clear, he realized the mortal had thought to take advantage of him. “You were digging for information?”

She swallowed.

“You little bitch!” He wanted to punish her—and he couldn’t. Blyad’! What would it take to secure the ring—and to finally be rid of her?

Frustration bubbling up inside him, he rose and brusquely tossed her back onto the bed, making her cry out.

Yet as she scurried to right herself, her nightgown rode up and he caught the fleetest glimpse of her sex.

Bare? At once, he traced to the bed, throwing her back down. “Have you a surprise for me? I’ll see it now—part your thighs.”

“No!” She yanked down on her nightgown.

He clamped his hands on her knees, spreading them, rucking up the gown.

Face gone red, she fought, but he easily overpowered her, wedging his hips between her thighs. “I did things your way the last time. Now I’ll do them my . . .” His words trailed off at his first sight of her female flesh. Glistening lips opened like petals.

A growl escaped him as his hand dipped to her.

He didn’t want to want her. But the sight of her aroused sex and its luscious scent made him lust beyond control. When she needed release, he instinctively needed to sate her.

His first feel of her . . . wet, hot to the touch, unimaginably soft. He gave a reverent groan.

“Let me go!” She shoved at him.

To take this prize away from him? “Mine, Elizabeth!” He cupped her possessively, giving her a harsh jostle. “This belongs to me. You don’t deny me what’s mine.”

When her nails dug into his arm, he laughed cruelly. “Like the claws of a kitten.” Another jostle. “Understand me, woman, I own your body, will enjoy it for the rest of my life. Licking it, fucking it, all at my leisure.”

She’d begun trembling with fear, gazing past him with bleak eyes. . . .

Damn her, that won’t do.

Yes, he hated her and enjoyed taunting her—especially since she’d questioned him. Yes, he was furious to have no new leads from his earlier slumber, and he wanted to take it out on her.

But now he had an aching cockstand, which meant he craved the uninhibited sexuality she’d shown him. Want her wetter, want her abandoned.

With effort, he calmed his tone. “Relax, pet,” he forced himself to say. “I won’t hurt you tonight.” Hmm, not a lie?

Still tension thrummed off her.

“You don’t trust me?”

She shook her head, her flowing hair stark against the sheets.

“I only want to finger you, just play. Watch me, then.” To illustrate, he leisurely rubbed his forefinger over her clitoris. Once, twice . . .

She lessened her grip on his arm. Another light caress and she began to relax.

“That’s it, female.” When he teased her, she lifted her hips for more. “So responsive.” He skimmed his forefinger between her damp, silken lips. “You’re quite pretty here, Elizabeth,” he said hoarsely. To utter that statement without the rána, he had to add, “I find you exquisite here.”

She swallowed nervously, studying his expression.

“Put your arms over your head. And keep them there.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m driving. Do it. Clasp your elbows.” When she hesitantly did, he fisted his hands on her nightgown and ripped it clean from her. Leaving her wholly naked.

Gods almighty.

“Lothaire! Your eyes . . .”

Between breaths, he grated, “I’ve needed to . . . to see you. Like this.”

Tiny waist flaring to shapely hips. Generous, mouthwatering breasts. Skin the color of honey.

The lush heat between her legs . . .

Lothaire believed he deserved all good things coming his way, considered them his due; but even he felt giddy with fortune as he beheld her spread before him.

When she started trembling again, he lay on his side next to her, bending his arm and propping his head on his hand. His casual position belied the need exploding inside him as he gave a slow circular stroke of her little clit.

She gasped again. “You make me crazy, vampire.”

“Of course I do, Elizabeth.” Another stroke.

This male was like sex incarnate.

Compared to Lothaire, the boys Ellie had been with before were ham-handed brutes.

Now she was dealing with a seductive immortal who used his talented fingers—and his cunning mind—to do sinful things with her.

An immortal whose eyes had seemed to catch fire, red deepening across them as he’d gazed at her naked body.

When he drew moisture up to continue those lazy circles, she relaxed her arms over her head and let her knees fall wide.

“Greedy for more?” Grinding his hardness against her hip, he nuzzled her neck, her ear, murmuring words in Russian.

His warm breaths against her made her shiver wildly. “Wh-what did you say?”

“I talked filth in your ear.” Voice gone ragged, he said, “I told you that you’ve got the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen, and then I told you what I’m going to do with it.”

She moaned, her nails digging into her elbows. “Lothaire!”

“Be my dear,” he rasped with that deep accent, “and finger yourself for me. Show me how you like to come.”

His accent . . . the rough edge to his dirty words . . . his wicked voice was like a touch, caressing her all over.

She readily obeyed him, slipping her hand between her legs, stroking her clitoris. Though he hadn’t asked her to, her other hand cupped a breast, which seemed to please him.

“You don’t penetrate yourself?” His eyes were locked on her fin- gers.

She could only shake her head.

“You wouldn’t know to, would you? Soon I’ll teach you how good it feels to have something inside you.”

“Lothaire . . .”

“Once your body becomes immortal, I’ll feed my length into you, spending deep inside here”—he tapped the pad of his forefinger right at her core. “And in here”—he raised his hand to her mouth, dipping his thumb inside it.

When she dutifully sucked, he hissed, “Yes. Ah, sweet Lizvetta, I’ll be at this flesh dusk, midnight, and dawn.”

Imagining his thumb was another part of his anatomy, Ellie suckled in bliss.

“I feel your little tongue. Are you to make me come just from that?” He drew his hand away, rubbing his wet thumb over one pouting nipple, then the other.

“Lothaire, I’m close. . . .”

“Without waiting for me?”

Rising, he unfastened his pants, shoved them off, then went to his knees between her legs.

She stared in awe at his naked body, at his huge penis—the most beautiful one she’d ever imagined. The veined shaft was so rigid, the head broad. Moisture beaded the swollen slit.

When thought returned, she said, “I want to touch it. Learn what you like.”

He gave her an unreadable look—pleased by that? “You’re busy with something else.” He gave a pointed look at her fingers, then grasped his erection in one hand, rising above her.

With his arm muscles bulging, he pressed the crown against the center of her chest, hissing an inhalation at the contact.

Slowly he dragged it over one nipple, then the other, making her moan low.

She swallowed when he positioned himself between her breasts, cupping them until they pressed against the sides of his shaft.

With a groan, he thrust, his head falling back, tendons straining in his neck.

“Oh, my God . . .” I could come just watching him move. He clamped both of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger, then thrust again.

And again. “About to spill across your neck if I don’t stop.”

She whimpered, imagining that hot liquid marking her. “Do whatever you want!”

But he’d already begun dragging the head down her torso. In a haze of sensation, Ellie watched the damp crown trailing over her belly. “Lower, vampire. P-press it against me. Let me move against it.”

“Do you want us to touch? You want to feel me against those bare lips?” Again his tone was challenging. “Then kiss me. Rise up and kiss me.”

Ellie felt like the vampire was testing her, but to determine what?

Dragging her fingers away from her sex, Elizabeth put her hands behind her, raising herself on straightened arms. She leaned up to press her mouth to Lothaire’s, wantonly meeting his tongue.

Gods, she makes me crazy. He drew back. “Harder. Kiss me like you’ll die if you don’t come soon.”

Her eyes were locked on his lips. “I will!”

He grasped her shining hair and tugged her upward. “Do it!”

With a throaty cry, she leaned in. When he caught her mouth with his own, she sucked his tongue again, making his head swim.

And then . . . she tentatively licked one of his aching fangs, drawing her own blood for him.

He stilled in shock even while thinking, Yes, ah, gods, yes! Do it again. . . .

The little witch licked the other one. Harder.

Sharing another blood kiss with me?

The pleasure jolted straight to his cock, but the idea of her doing this burned into his mind. Too intense, too much from her.

Too . . . unforgettable.

He broke away. Furious with her. Thrilled with her. His cock about to explode. “Lie back, then.” He scarcely recognized his own voice. “Grab your elbows once more.”

When she obeyed, he rewarded her by inching his hips lower, his cock straining toward her wetness.

She wrapped her leg around his waist, spurring him on. Hot little

piece . . .

Finally, Lothaire rested his shaft against her quivering lips. Fuck!

He had to squeeze his cockhead to keep from instantaneously spilling. “So wet,” he hissed. “Dripping.”

With his other hand, he gently pinched her folds against his shaft, as he had with her breasts. Then he rocked over her clitoris.

“Oh—my—God!” Her hands flew to his hips.

“Elizabeth, still. Don’t you dare come yet!”

“Too late!” She shuddered, her long hair tumbling wildly over the sheets. “Can’t stop.”

He felt her nails bite into his ass as her hips rolled up and down, sliding her sex along his shaft. As soon as he released his grip, he’d spill. Can’t resist this. . . .

He spread his knees wider, shoving them against the backs of her thighs. When he thrust faster over her, her breasts bounced, her rosy nipples jutting. Too much . . .

Gaze locked on her heavy-lidded eyes, he rasped, “You want my seed.”

“Yes!”

“Then watch me . . . come.” He released his cock; his back bowed as semen rushed forth. “Ah! Elizavetta!” he bellowed, pumping out onto her belly.

As arcs lashed over her again and again, he grew thunderstruck—because she was writhing in another orgasm.

And smiling. Her lips curled with delight.

“Lizvetta?”

When he finished spending at last, he collapsed beside her with a groan, his shaft twitching against her thigh.

Too much from her. He needed to get away from her.

And still, he lay on his side with one arm sprawled over her breasts, his leg drawn up over hers, pulling her closer.

Then he frowned. They fit.

Like two puzzle pieces.

Ellie’s body was humming, her skin tingling as his hoarse exhalations hit her ear.

They lay like that as they both caught their breath. He even brushed his lips against her temple.

Daubing a finger in his seed, she gave him a saucy grin. “Look what I made you do,” she said, repeating his words.

Just as Ellie was thinking she’d made progress with him, he drew back, his face a mask of rage. “Question me again like that, and I’ll make you beg for your death!” Before he vanished, he grated, “And you still don’t compare to Saroya.”

She lay stunned, eyes darting, disbelieving what had just happened. But the glaring proof pooled on her belly.

Before, she’d found it erotic to feel him come over her; now she felt sullied by it.

Used. Ellie covered her face with her forearm, her bottom lip trembling. Not only hadn’t she been good enough to sway him, he’d mocked her again for trying to seduce him away from Saroya.

Stings so bad. . . .

She never let herself cry, not even in prison. Now she didn’t know if she could stave off her tears.

She’d just gotten off—again—with someone who’d threatened her, threatened her family, repeatedly. Someone who murdered.

Someone I hate so deeply.

Before she could burst into tears, she felt a stirring in her chest. Saroya. I wonder what the goddess would think about his spunk all over her? If she truly did scorn all things sexual . . .

Hell, even if she didn’t.

For the first time in her life, Ellie would let her rise without a fight. “For the buckets of blood I threw up. Have fun with this, goddess.”