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“Ask me to let you come,” Lothaire told her, “and I might—”
“Lothaire, I want this. Don’t make me go. Please, I have to feel this!” “You obey me, Lizvetta. You stay with me.”
“Look at me.” His gaze held hers, the hypnotic red mesmerizing her. Like staring into embers. “This pleasure is for you alone to enjoy. You remain with me for this.”
“Good.” He ran his face against her thigh, as if he was praising her in some animal kind of way.
He didn’t trust his legs to stand, so he leisurely kissed her thighs before tracing into the bed. There, he lay back, drawing her to him. She will curl up next to me, all but purring with contentment as she wraps an arm over my chest and smooths her leg up over my own. I’ll tuck her close, then she’ll fall asleep in my arms. Fitting me—
“Elizavetta?” he yelled dazedly. She closed her eyes as if to block out the sound. He’d called for her? Why her name and not Saroya’s? Because he needs me. No, you ignore him, Ellie! “Elizavetta?” He sounded so . . . lost. “Dang it,” she muttered, rising to return to his room.
The vampire might think he could do just fine without her; she wasn’t so sure about his prospects. He could scorn her all he liked, but clearly he did need her. And realizing that affected her. As she continued to pet him, she again imagined what it’d be like to be loved by Lothaire. If he’d ever stop planning to kill her, she might be tempted to find out.
Her soft cries. Can’t get to her. Her terrified gaze met Lothaire’s. Clarity struck; recognition sang within him, coursed through his every vein. It was her. His Bride. Dear gods, it was . . . Elizabeth.
“Harm her and I will visit an unspeakable wrath . . . on your house . . . your descendants. I will live for nothing else!”
“Or perhaps you can give me your legendary accounting book. The girl in exchange for the book, Lothaire.” My thousands of debts to save her? After all those years of toil? Part of him burned to yell, “The book is yours, just let me have her back!” Part of him was still . . . Lothaire. He told himself that he could trace from here, then find Elizabeth in the future, could retrieve her from his enemies. But by all the gods, I want her now!
“You’d make my Bride a blood slave?” Lothaire’s voice . . . crazed, unrecognizable. “My female?” My Elizabeth?
Elizabeth’s heartbeat? Soothing . . . like waves. Like a beacon. Vision clearing, he saw her delicate form—amid the butchery he’d wrought.
It occurred to her that he was exactly the type of boy she’d always imagined herself with. Good-natured, handsome, considerate. So why was she so attracted to a deadly, forbidding bloodsucker like Lothaire? Because of mental trauma and sexual desperation? Or because of his brilliant mind and seductive touch?
He smells, feels, and tastes wonderful. So where’s the lust? Dang it! Now she could admit what she’d instinctively known. Without Lothaire, I’ll never feel such passion again.
“It’s only Lothaire for me. Passion-wise, at least.”
Elizabeth was awake, her eyes bright. She wore cutoffs and a bathing suit top; since Thaddeus wasn’t ogling her body, Thaddeus got to live.
Still, he was furious with the three of them. Though Lothaire didn’t know for what. He just knew that his oracle, his woman, his . . . friend did not need to be drinking and laughing together without him around.
“And out on the trail, Lothaire told this burly berserker to watch himself, ‘else I’ll revisit my juvenile skull-fucking phase.’ ” Elizabeth snorted beer out of her nose, and Thaddeus threw back his head to laugh. Hag didn’t join them; she knew Lothaire had been serious.
“When Lothaire got spacey, he’d murmur to me about his young Bride gazing up at him with fear, which, granted, is a little weird to hear—” “I’ve returned,” Lothaire interrupted. They all jumped, heads whipping in his direction. He hadn’t remembered telling Thaddeus those things. Young? Fear? Definitely not describing Saroya. Have I always known deep down that Elizabeth is mine?
In defending Elizabeth, Lothaire had thrown away his greatest weapon, had relied on searing instinct. She is mine.
Elizabeth sauntered in. Tanned, barefoot, grinning in her short cutoffs. So sexy his thoughts blanked for a long moment.
Before he ever decided to reach for Elizabeth, Lothaire found his hands circling her waist. “So certain I did it for you?” he asked, lifting her to the counter. “Uh-huh. You only needed to keep my body healthy. Not my mind.” He eased his hips between her knees. “Perhaps you shouldn’t attribute characteristics to me that aren’t there.”
In any case, I did worry about you, Leo.” “What did you call me?” “Your initials. Lothaire the Enemy of Old? Sounds like Lothaire the Wizard of Oz. Leo suits you better.”
“I’m buzzed and you’re looking gorgeous and kissable. You needed a nickname.”
“Concern for me?” His spike of pleasure was overrun by irritation. “And yet I’d ordered you not to touch me. Why would you disobey me?” “You called for me, repeatedly yelling my name.” Then some part of him had known Elizabeth was his.
Anyhow, I’m past it.” “How could you possibly be?” “I have something to look forward to.” In a solemn tone, she said, “I’ve decided, Leo, that I’m gonna keep you.” Though everything within him was in turmoil, he calmly said, “Have you, then?” “Even if you’ve been the biggest dick imaginable.”
you sip me, will you get tipsy?” His body tensed. “One way to find out.” “Then take me back to your bed and do really naughty things to me while you talk filth in my ear.” He just stifled a growl.
“You’re not going to press?” “You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” she said. This really seemed to please him. He snatched her close to nuzzle her hair. “You smell like salt, sun, and tequila. Exotic to one like me.” He inhaled deeply, as if he wanted to take her scent into him—
“Why do I still scent a trace of Thaddeus—even when we’re away from him?” “I’m sure we hugged.” But she could feel her cheeks getting flushed. Was her heart speeding up? “You’re . . . lying. Why would you lie, unless . . .” His eyes shot flame-red. “No, Lothaire, it isn’t like that!” “Tell me what it was like,” he said softly before roaring, “or I’ll do murder!” “I-I kissed him.” “Then you’ve killed him.”
This boldness in her . . . delicious. No, you’re enraged at the slattern! And enthralled with her. Possessiveness and lust and something else he couldn’t define warred inside him.
Unexpected Elizabeth, with her fierce gray eyes. Saroya might be vicious and lethal, but Elizabeth was cunning, beguiling. Quietly running circles around him at every opportunity.
She shrugged, casting him a queenly look that dared him to do something; a growl of lust burst from his chest. Her peccadillo forgotten—for now—he leaned in to kiss her.
“Tell me why you kissed the boy.” “To find out if I desired just about any male after my prison stay, or if it was only you—” “And?” He’s holding his breath. Dear God, she might truly have a shot at Lothaire. “I didn’t feel any desire for him, because I was wantin’ . . . you.” “Me.” Pride fired in the red depths of his eyes. “Good. I don’t . . . I didn’t want to have to behead Thaddeus. Or to string you up at the demon crossroads.”
His gaze dipped to her mouth. “You want a real kiss now? From your own male?” My own male. She nearly swayed. Lothaire had never treated her like his Bride; now his gaze upon her was heated and possessive.
He cupped her face with pale hands. “I’m keeping you, Lizvetta.”
“You’ll never die! Keeping you forever.” Because she would be . . . his queen. At Helvita, he’d recognized Elizabeth as the Bride fate had chosen for him. Now he gazed upon the cunning queen he’d chosen for himself.
“What if the butterfly rode you like a lazy horse?”
“Me? Become a vampire?” Whoa. She’d never thought it would happen to her, only to Saroya. “When I told you I was keeping you forever, I meant it.”
intensity in his words, the flash of fang. Clearly a discussion for another day . . . “I have an idea. Let’s take off our clothes and fool around on the settee. If I trip and fall and land smack-dab on your cock, then it won’t be your fault.” “Lose your virginity while on top?” “I’ve already kind of lost my virginity.” Had his face flushed? “It would be easier for you if I lay upon your body—once you are turned.”
“Can’t fight this.” He stripped off her top. “Because now my mind has seized on you landing smack-dab on my cock. Can almost feel it already.”
“Are you nervous, Lothaire?” “It’s been a while.” He raked his gaze over her. “And I want your first fucking to be . . .” “Superlative?” His lips curled into the sexiest grin she’d ever seen on a man, and she briefly forgot how to untie her bathing suit bottom.
In Russian, he told her, “Little mortal, you’ve changed everything.” How can I want you this much? To deny what I am? Because he was feeling something stronger for her—a bone-deep feeling of possessiveness, of protectiveness. No one would ever harm the female in his arms, not even himself.
In the past, Ellie had never communed with another, had never looked into a boy’s eyes and felt something deeper than the need for release. Now, with Lothaire . . . she did. This was more than just sex; this was a bond, like a promise between them. She thought she’d known what kind of man she wanted. Now she realized she’d always needed this vampire lover with his hungry red eyes and his lifetimes of yearning.
But his possessive kiss . . . who could guard against that? Or the sensations cascading over her? Her nipples dragged up and down his muscular chest, his hot hands like brands across her ass. When she drew back, panting for breath, he rasped, “Look at your expression. You’re falling in love with me.”
“Move on me!” He twined her hair around his hand, drawing her back to lick her neck. “Harder, faster.” As if Lothaire would ever allow himself to go unsatisfied. “I’ll have more of you!” He released her hair to palm her breasts. “Given or taken.”
“You’ll give me this whenever I want it . . . let me do whatever I want to you,” he grated. “Because you are my Bride, Lizvetta. And I’ve got many years to make up for.” Between panting breaths, she asked, “I’m really yours?” “Till the day I die,” he said,
“You will also need a cloaking tattoo. I’ve much to show you outside these walls, Elizabeth.” “What?” she asked breathlessly, because he’d already begun hardening for another round. “Nothing less than the entire world, beautiful girl. . . .”
At Hag’s, he’d backed the boy into a wall, expression brimming with malice. “Elizabeth Daciano is my woman.” Thad had swallowed. “And she sure is a nice one, Mr. Lothaire.” “Keep your mouth to yourself today, boy, or your spine will decorate our mantel. . . .”
“Lizvetta?” He grazed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. Such strength in him, yet he could caress her so gently. “Look at me.” When she did, his gaze seemed to burn with emotion. “Have I hurt you, love?” How could he make her heart melt so easily? When he looked at her like this, all her defenses crumbled. “No, it’s not that.” In a hoarse voice, he told her, “You are mine. Your life is with me. Do not fight this.”
She made him feel young and alive. Elizabeth Daciano was a drug to a male like Lothaire.
