Lothaire (55 page)

He was up to the challenge.

Again he curled his finger inside her. Because his blood coursed within her, that little ridged spot had swelled—so much so that he would be able to feel it against his shaft when he took her, would feel it catch the rim of his engorged crown.

And, gods, how
she
would feel it. . . .

“I will shower you with pleasure, with wealth.” He began circling his thumb over her clitoris as he rubbed her inside. “You will never regret this. Tonight, I’m going to make you come a dozen more times, each one stronger than the last.”

A flicker of distress passed over her face. He’d heard from turned humans that sex as an immortal was a thousand times more intense. No wonder she feared.

“Shh, shh, love, you can take it now. I’d never do anything to your body that you wouldn’t thank me for later.”

“Like changing my species.”

Unashamed, he said, “Just so.” Removing his fingers, he shoved his hands under her ass and lifted her. With one swift thrust, he mounted
his female.

Lothaire withdrew and delved his shaft deep, twisting those lean hips to make Ellie feel things she’d never known she could.

“Yes, yes!
Yes?
” She began to orgasm before she’d even comprehended how close she was. “Coming . . .
oh, God!
” She could feel her sex clenching his shaft again and again, while he shuddered and sweated above her, already on the verge himself.

“It won’t stop, Lothaire!” His cock was sliding over that spot inside her, making the orgasm go on and on.

He was merciless, kept plunging, plunging, until she was sobbing for mercy—while raising her hips for more.

But he gnashed his teeth, slowing his pace. “Do you accept this?” He threaded his fingers through her hair, gripping it, lifting her face to his. “Accept me?”

She could almost imagine he was saying
forgive
instead of
accept
. “I do! Oh, yes!” She would’ve told him anything at that moment, anything to keep him moving inside her.

He dipped down to kiss her, licking her lips, her sensitive fangs. As rich blood streamed between their tongues, she shredded the sheets with her new claws.

The first time they’d had sex, she’d begged him to be more gentle. Now she demanded, “Harder!”

“You want it hard?” His tone warned her that she might not.

Yet she found herself scoring his back to spur him. He shuddered, arching into her claws. And for the briefest moment, he cast her a look of . . . wonder?

Then the ruthless Lothaire returned. With a growl, he shoved her hips into the mattress, pounding against her. The sounds of their sex grew deafening—their skin slapping, her continuous moans, his guttural words in Russian.

And always the thundering of their hearts. She was on the verge, about to climax again.

This raw bliss would have killed her as a human.

Between heaving breaths, he rasped, “Tell me that you love me.”

She almost screamed that she did. But even in this haze of emotion, she held fast to a whisper of stubbornness.
Won’t tell him first. . . .

And once she began to orgasm, she could do no more than cry out his name.

Just when Ellie feared she couldn’t take any more of his thrusts, his body stilled completely, his whipcord muscles bulging.
“I will never let you go, Lizvetta!”
He remained motionless inside her, his face a mask of strain. “You are
mine!
” he roared, with his eyes aglow, his gaze pinning hers. “Mine! Ah, gods, you are . . .
mine . . .
”

Ecstasy lit his features.

His seed boiled forth in a rush. His hips surged forward in an uncontrollable fury, pistoning between her legs. Scorching jets of semen pumped into her . . . his body pouring into hers . . . over and over. . . .

Once he’d filled her with his heat, he finally collapsed over her.
“Lizvetta,”
he groaned dazedly.

She clutched him close, pressing kisses to his damp temple, his sweat-slicked neck. He lingered inside her, still softly thrusting.

As their hearts pounded together, she experienced that closeness with him that she’d once known and then missed.

“It’s only beginning, love,” he promised, his shaft stirring within
her. . . .

At the end of the night, after countless bouts of sex, he squeezed her against his chest—hard. But it felt good to her.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to hold my Bride like this?” Brushing his lips against her hair, he murmured, “You will never want for anything again, Elizabeth. The world is yours for the taking.”

Again, she felt protected.
Safe
. Her lids began to grow heavy. But she didn’t want this to end, feared she’d wake tomorrow, and all this would be a dream. “I’m so sleepy.”

“My beautiful girl, dawn nears. And all good vampires are to bed.”

She eased up, arching a brow at him. “Then you’ll stay awake.”

Cupping her face, he lightly covered her mouth with his, tenderly licking her fang, giving her one last taste of blood.

The sweetest good-night kiss. Then back into the secure cradle of his arms.

So why did she still feel a shadow of misgiving? Why did she feel like she had in fact just sold her soul to the devil—and there was a no-refund policy?

No, no. What woman wouldn’t love this god, this decadent lover with power and money, who seemed to worship her body?

If he told her he loved her right now, she’d say it back. And she’d mean it.

But he hadn’t said it. And he’d never told her he was sorry for everything he’d done to her.

I’m Lothaire’s fool. . . .

Lothaire had exactly zero kingdoms under his control. None of his vendettas had been carried out and all of his plans had been upended.

Yet a languorous relaxation spread through him. His lips continued to curl of their own accord.

The satisfaction he felt from stroking Elizabeth’s hair as she slumbered against his chest . . . indescribable.

He’d pleasured her with his body, stoking her need, then sating it. He’d fed her with his blood until her skin was warmed. Now she slept deeply—while he safeguarded her with the strength he’d earned through eons of survival.

Of course she loved him. He knew she’d been about to tell him earlier. So her loyalty was his. . . .

Indescribable.

Lothaire had taken great pains to rehearse that transformation wish, and the ring had done exactly as bidden. Which meant that tomorrow he would give her a gift no other male could offer.

When she absently worried her bottom lip with one of her adorable little fangs, he sighed.

The Enemy of Old fucking
sighed
.

Dear gods, it’d finally happened to him.

Happiness.

Then his own fangs sharpened.
I will kill anyone who tries to take this feeling away from me.

 51

A
t twilight, Ellie woke with no grogginess. One second she was asleep, the next awake. Weird.

She found Lothaire gazing down at her with a disconcerting tenderness, his tousled hair hanging over one of his eyes.

If he’d been gorgeous before . . . Lothaire looking well loved was
breathtaking
.

In a gravelly voice, he said, “Good gloaming.”

A vampire version of good morning? “Uh, you too.”

“How do you feel?”

Mentally?
The jury’s still out.
Body-wise?
Amazingly good
. Though she refused to admit it.

Ellie didn’t want him thinking he could continue to get away with this high-handedness where she was concerned. If she was going to make a vampiric life—
oh, dear Lord
—with him, she needed to nip this behavior in the bud.

She shrugged. “I feel okay. It’s definitely different.” She had no twinges, despite their aggressive sex.

But I also have no craving for my usual waffles.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I miss food.” With a pang of sadness, she rose, feeling his eyes on her body as she never had before.

Palpable.
Possessive
.

“I’ll be your breakfast. I’ve replenished out of the refrigerator. Come, Lizvetta, you love the way I taste. And I know just how you prefer to tap my . . . font.”

So smug. She gazed at him in the bed—it looked like a murder scene. The mattress was shredded. By her claws? Blood was everywhere.

She flushed to realize she’d never offered him her own blood. Did that make her a selfish lover?

He followed her gaze, seeming proud of the destruction. He cast her a self-satisfied smile as if he’d just won an argument. And for some reason his fangs were so . . . incredibly . . . sexy.

Her mind seemed to blank.
Lick them, feel them in me.
She rubbed her tongue over one of her own.

That sinful vampire could make her a mindless sex slave if she let him.

She shook her head hard, then strode into her bedroom to throw on some clothes. She didn’t trust herself to be naked around him.

When she opened her closet, she broke the knob clean off the door.

“You’ll get used to the strength,” he said, suddenly behind her. As she gaped at the doorknob, he added, “It’s not a bad thing to be strong.”

With a swallow, she set the knob on a shelf and painstakingly began to dress, careful not to destroy fabrics that felt as flimsy as cobwebs.

Lothaire gazed on with an enthralled expression, as if he’d never seen her naked before—or maybe he just didn’t want to let her out of his sight. “Admit it. Vampire sex is better.”

Atomic blast.
“Doesn’t matter. Lothaire, we need to talk.”

“We will.” He reached for her, drawing her close, until she could feel his erection like a steel rod against her. “After we spend again, and you feed from me once more. Dorada will return at midnight, but afterward, I have a surprise for you—”

“
Now
. Please get dressed.”

Seeing she was serious, he shrugged. “I’m feeling very magnanimous right now.”

The victor. If he’d been arrogant before, now he was insufferable. It chafed as never before.

He traced away. When she returned to his bedroom, he emerged from his closet fully dressed. Just as they had so many times before, he sat at his desk, she on the settee.

“Tell me, Elizabeth. What can’t wait until later?”

“Lothaire, you can’t make decisions for me again.”

“Of course I can.”

“No, we start this thing as equals. Say it.”

“I can’t say that. Whereas you, my love, retain the ability to lie, I do not.”

“What was that?” She’d misunderstood him.

“We are
not
equals, Elizabeth. I have thousands of years of knowledge over you. The bloody wisdom of ages.”

The room seemed to rock.

“You are my Bride, my most cherished possession, and I am your mate and technically your sire. I will make decisions for us, and you will trust me to know what’s best.”

“How can you say that?”

“You didn’t want to be a vampire, but you ended up loving it.”

“Loving one night of it. The rest remains to be seen!” She tried to tell herself that he just didn’t know better than to say these things. As Balery had explained, Lothaire was emotionally insensitive because he’d never learned how to—or why he might—behave differently.
Be patient, Ellie. . . .
“Lothaire, promise me you’ll never take my choice away again.”