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He loomed over her, staring down, confounded by this mortal’s behavior. And why he could never predict it.
So young, this mortal. Gazing at her now, he could almost forget how much he detested humans. Almost. His thoughts were interrupted by his sudden yawn. Watching her sleep had calmed him. His Bride—or at least her body—could soothe him. A tool I can use? After unfastening
How could he be so damaged mentally—and morally—and yet so stunning on the outside?
His face was hauntingly flawless, with his proud, patrician nose and broad cheekbones. Even the stubble covering his bold jawline was enticing to her. Her fingers itched to trace his lips, to determine if they were as firm as they looked. She’d never really noticed men’s lips before, but his were sexy.
When Lothaire turned on his back, Ellie’s mouth went dry. His torso was hard as stone, with cut abs and pecs. Darker blond hair, almost golden in color, dashed the center of his chest, and a fine line of gold trailed down to his navel and lower.
him. Dear God, the vampire was so . . . beautiful. Masculine perfection. Especially with his eyes closed. I could look at him all day.
She blocked images of Lothaire’s chiseled torso from her mind, telling herself she was just getting reacquainted with her body.
A spray of water misted over the graze on her neck, making her shiver. The vampire had sampled her there, had seemed to relish her taste, groaning as he took. For some reason, the idea of that was so . . . erotic to her—as if he’d wanted her so much, he had to take a part of her into himself.
Just when he realized he was about to lose this battle, he pictured his Bride’s skin yielding, giving up that crimson wine of hers. Sink your fangs into her, plunge them deep. . . . His eyes widened. She’s alone. Unguarded.
In less than an instant, he’d returned to the apartment. Needing to protect her. Needing her. He would bury his face in her hair and inhale her intoxicating scent, could imagine it so clearly.
He narrowed his gaze on her, willing her, Yes, come to me. She took a step closer to the shadows, then another. Her hands trembled. Want them on me. Come and touch me, female. Touch me, and I might last another night.
The vampire’s eyes were more frightening than Ellie had ever seen them. They were filled with both rage—and anguish. Red forked out over the whites, giving him an even more sinister look. Yet they were spellbinding to her.
His fangs glinted as if razor-sharp. And still she found herself crossing to him, wanting to smooth his windblown hair off his brow, needing to feel his flawless skin.
She shivered, commanding herself not to bolt. Because she sensed that might . . . excite him. Soon they were so close she had to crane her head up to meet his gaze. Her lips parted at the blatant need she saw there. But what does he need? What does he want? Why did she feel like she’d die if she didn’t know what his pale skin felt like?
Maybe she could touch him, could satisfy her curiosity, and he wouldn’t even remember. “Can I . . . can I touch you?” He shuddered, then hissed, “Yes. Touch. Me.”
she tentatively laid her palms on his chest, against his freezing skin. Where had he traced to? What snowy land? He flinched, even as his muscles leapt to her touch. “Elizabeth,” he rasped brokenly, “you scald me.” She was about to drop her hands when he ordered, “More.”
She didn’t understand this man, this evil vampire with his anguished eyes. He still hadn’t placed his hands on her. Because he feared to? “If I lose control . . .” he’d warned her. But she sensed that she calmed him, that she affected him physically—and mentally. Sure enough, his agitation began to ease, his lids going heavy.
Even his walk is sexy. Lothaire walked like she imagined a powerful king would.
She saw him glance at her out of the corner of his eye, knew he noted her breaths shallowing, her cheeks flushing. Now that she’d touched him, she was even more attracted to him. Flying-into-a-lightbulb attracted.
“Look your fill? Grope your fill? Don’t worry, I’m accustomed to women of all species lusting after me.”
“I didn’t find anything in here that I’d care to eat.” “Don’t worry, I’ll feed my new pet.” “Pet?” Her eyes glittered. “I never knew I could hate someone as deeply as I do you.” “I often help others discover the outer limits of their hatred. It’s a talent of mine.”
“I’ve always liked men. Before prison I had boyfriends enough, went parking every weekend.” Jealousy flared inside him, though he’d be damned if he knew why. Elizabeth wasn’t his.
“Miss me some parking,” she absently murmured, a blush spreading along her high cheekbones. “Hot, hectic . . . parking.” Just when he was about to smash something, she met his gaze.
His mind flashed to that time he’d seen her in the water eagerly kissing that boy, her fingers biting into his shoulders as her mouth had moved on his. The male’s expression had been one of wonderment before his eyes had slid closed, lust overwhelming him. . . . Red covered Lothaire’s vision. Elizabeth had writhed against the boy, as if unable to get close enough to him— Lothaire hurled his glass across the kitchen, blood and shards exploding against the wall.
Ellie’s hands flew to the vampire’s chest as his mouth descended to her neck. “What is wrong with you?” “This body belongs to me now! It will never be touched by another.”
Another wicked lick on her neck sent shivers coursing through her. Ellie’s nipples tightened into sensitive points, her breasts swelling. “You’re in need of my touch. Fade back and make her come to me,” he commanded, his voice gravelly. “I’ll pleasure this body, and then you’ll be relieved of this ache when you wake.”
He was kissing her neck so greedily, not biting, but still with an urgent hunger.
She was panting, eyes focused on his sexy mouth, those lips. He unfastened the button on her slacks. “You hate me . . .” She gulped with fear. And anticipation. “. . . but you’ll still let me do whatever I want to you.” He pinched her zipper, rasping words in Russian to her as he slowly began to tug it down.
When he spread her slacks open and fingered the lace on her silk panties with a groan, Ellie bit her bottom lip, struggling to keep her eyes open. Would his fingers continue to dip down, discovering her wetness . . . ?
A muscle ticked in his jaw. She didn’t know if he was going to kiss her more—or kill her.
his mind was growing more disordered. Dangerously so. Moments ago, he’d decided to yank Elizabeth’s pants to her ankles, then bend her over the table to fuck her right there. He’d briefly thought that a brilliant idea. Making her moan my name before I allow her to come, plunging into her tight heat, feeling her grow slick around me . . .
Bloodlust warred with sexual need. He’d already come close to piercing her this morning.
Elizabeth gaped at the fey’s bloody hands, sidling closer to him as if for protection. The vampire who intended to destroy her very soul. He heard her whispering to herself, “Open mind, open mind,” and thought she had her finger curled through one of his belt loops.
He’d been so preoccupied with the act of breeding that he’d never thought about the result. What would his offspring be like, when gotten upon this body? Though vampires reproduced sparingly, he pictured numerous towheaded children with determined gray eyes. “I’ll require many heirs.”
“I need to focus.” On something other than Elizabeth’s allure.
Another bite, and another. She relished her meal in an almost sensual way. He wondered if she’d be like that in bed, savoring the taste of his skin. As I’d savor hers.
“Plus, I’m enjoying the fact that I can do something you can’t.” “Can’t I?” He traced to the seat beside her. With a challenging lift of her brow, Elizabeth held up a forkful of waffle. “Wanna bite?” “You have no idea.” “Of waffle. Oh, but you’re a bloodsucker.” She gave an exaggerated frown.
Though he knew Hag was gazing at him in bafflement, he didn’t give a damn. He grasped Elizabeth’s wrist and took the bite.
“You’ve got syrup on your lip. Here.” She licked her thumb and reached forward to smooth the syrup away. The air between them was electric as he debated tapping her wrist for a drink to wash it all down—
I can feel the mortal’s gaze still on me. Which meant he was having difficulty keeping his eyes off her.
“Are you certain she’s not your Bride?”
“I never predicted your female would be Saroya.” “In so many words, you did. ‘A great and fearless queen beloved by vampires, who will secure your throne for you,’ ” he said. “Ellie Ann, late of Appalachia, just isn’t going to inspire Hordely, vampirely love.”
Hag’s lips thinned. Still unconvinced? How could she be?
“And what of my confusion, my lack of focus?” “Your Bride can calm your mind as well as anything I can concoct for you.”
“Then return to her proximity as much as possible. Talk to her. Touch her.”
Though this task could help him complete his Endgame, he found his thoughts drifting to Elizabeth yet again, this time to the look of longing on her face as she’d stared at the sea. His satisfaction over that had proved curiously less than he’d expected. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? Or how she’d melted for him earlier at the apartment?
Considering the heated encounter between Ellie and him earlier, she’d figured he wanted to get busy with Saroya, but then rejected the idea. Surely, he wouldn’t be this hard-up hours later.
“Is there something dire you have to discuss with the goddess? A murder to plan or some evil to check off a punch list . . . ?” Ellie trailed off, words failing her, and sank down on the couch. Because she could now see his blatant erection straining against his pants. So there’s the fire, vampire.
When she finally stopped gawking at the sheer size of it, she dragged her eyes upward. His shoulders were tense. Blond brows drew tight over hungry red eyes.
“Men are like coal boilers, Ellie. If you find a man you reckon to keep, you got to feed his belly every day, make him burn for you, then release some steam purty regular, or you ain’t ever gonna get him to work.”
