Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(40)
Author: Kresley Cole

She’d never seen him so torn. Just when she was about to give up, he exhaled a gust of breath. "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."

With no care for his clothes, he ripped at his belt and pants. When his erection sprang free, he traced her to their customary spot.

While he sat, gloriously nak*d, on the couch, she stood between his knees, slipping out of her cutoffs. "Are you nervous, Lothaire?"

"It’s been a while." He raked his gaze over her. "And I want your first f**king 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.

She’d suspected Lothaire would crave excitement. Now his eyes were aglow with it, his breaths shallow. One of his legs jogged up and down.

Once she was nak*d, she crawled over his lap, rising on her spread knees above him.

"I’m going to be inside you," he said, as if he was only now accepting it. His shaft jutted in anticipation, the crown nearly meeting her sex.

"Loaded for bear again?" she teased, making him grin once more.

"I did, in fact, come loaded for bear." He leaned in to ever so gently graze his fangs along her neck. "Only to find a butterfly."

She shivered. He could be so charming, so seductive when he wanted to be.

"I want to kiss you, Lizvetta."

She eagerly leaned forward to press her lips against his.

But he took the lead, turning her back on his arm. With his lips above hers, he forced her to accept the strong thrusts of his tongue, until it felt like . . . sex, like he was screwing her mouth with his tongue.

She gave a yelp against his lips when he delved a finger into her sex from behind, thrusting it in time with his kiss. As he wedged a second finger inside, she thought, He’s preparing me.

Again and again, he kissed and thrust . . . harder. Rougher.

No, he’s warning me.

Instead he set her imagination ablaze. She’d seen the way he moved; what else could he do with that sinful body of his? What were these drives that he kept talking about?

She and Lothaire had had some touch-and-go moments together, but ecstasy always followed.

When he released her from his kiss, she was breathless, in a haze of desire. "I’m ready, Lothaire."

He’d told her that the phrase deal with the devil came from him; Ellie felt like she was on the verge of selling her soul.

"You truly trust me not to hurt you." Lothaire shook his head hard, wondering exactly when he’d agreed to claim her.

Earlier, she’d told him she was like a sucker punch. Now he realized he might not ever stop reeling.

But there was no turning back from this. Even a better man than he would do anything to possess this lovely creature-with her honeyed skin and sexy tan lines, with her long locks swaying down to tickle her ni**les. Those smoldering gray eyes . . .

Much less a vampire who’d coveted his queen for ages.

"I do trust you, Leo. You’re my guy," she murmured, gazing up at him from under her lashes. "You’re going to take care of me tonight."

How could her words make his chest feel tight? Make him desperate not to hurt her? "Then I can’t touch you." He laced his fingers behind his head. "Not till I know I can get through this."

"You make it sound like an ordeal."

It will be. "Just know that you’re on your own."

"Fine. I can do this. How hard can it be?"

"As f**king steel."

She arched a brow. "Then we’re a perfect match, ’cause I’m feeling hot as a forge right now." Taking him in hand, she stroked unhurriedly, up and down . . . up . . . down, leaving his control ragged.

Barely recognizing his voice, he said, "Begin this, Lizvetta. Mount me."

She nibbled her lip and nodded, lowering herself over him.

When the tip of his c**k met her soft, damp sex, he almost spilled against her opening. "Gods almighty, you’re tight."

She widened her knees, but was only able to take the head inside. "Lothaire, please . . ."

Don’t touch her! If he clamped her hips, he’d wrench her down on his length, tearing her tender flesh. His interlocked fingers tightened until he thought bones would snap. "You’re . . . doing . . . fine." He dropped his hands, clenching them by his sides.

Once again, she widened her knees, but she was trapped fast. "I can’t get lower. Oh, God, I need to get lower."

He bit out, "And just how had you planned to take me?"

She blinked. "I thought I’d just slide down."

"Then I’ll need you slick, I’ll need you dripping." He drew back to behold her swollen br**sts. Right before his eyes, a flush radiated over her supple skin, teasing him with all the places he could pierce her. "Cup your br**sts to my mouth."

When she did, he held her gaze as he nuzzled one nipple. Closing his lips over it, he tongued the peak. . . .

"Lothaire!" As he began to suckle, she undulated, working to impale herself.

Agony. He felt like he would explode, seconds away from pumping into her with only the crown inside. With a groan, he pierced her nipple, a tiny prick of his fang, blood streaming to his lapping tongue. Delectable! Would he ever get enough of it?

She screamed. In pain? No, she was arching her back. "Lothaire, suck harder."

He did, until the suction on her nipple was nearly holding her upright.

When he forced himself to stop, she whimpered, hastily cupping her other breast to tempt him again. "Here."

He stole another taste. Against her breast, wetted from his mouth and her blood, he rasped, "Can’t take more."

Clutching his shoulders, she muttered, "Neither can I." Still he hadn’t penetrated her. "You really are too big."

She started to crawl off him. To get away from me? His fangs grew even sharper, his instincts commanding him. . . .

Trace her to the bed, pin her down.

Take her blood, flood her with seed.

He gripped her tiny waist, trapping her, just preventing his claws from digging into her skin. "Ah-ah, Lizvetta."

"We don’t fit!"

"We will. I won’t let you go until I’ve claimed you." Forgive me. His h*ps bucked, bouncing her on his shaft, sending her up, then sliding back down.

"Lothaire!" Her voice was a mix of pain and desire. "Let me go!"

"No. Because right now, you are not"-another buck of his hips-"yet"-a more forceful thrust-"mine!" he growled as he hit the top of her sex.

With a choked cry, she dipped her head forward, her body trembling against his heaving chest.

"Look at me. Did I hurt you?" he asked, ignoring the voices in his head, the ones clamoring, Pin her, claim her, make her understand who’ll mark her.

Who’ll master her.

She bit her lip, her expression grave. "It hurt some, Leo."

No, never hurt you! He shook himself, inwardly chanting, Endgame. Endgame. Elizabeth as my queen. Can’t frighten her.

She’d never know the battle inside him as she began maneuvering over his shaft. He splayed his fingers across her ass, feeling her flesh move so sensuously as she tested her body, their tight fit.

Fuck, he was throbbing inside her! No, control yourself! He gnashed his teeth, sweat dampening his skin.

When she gave a cautious rock of her hips, they met eyes, both wondering how she’d react.

Her lids grew heavy . . . a moan slipped from her lips.

He shuddered in response. It struck him that he was actually watching his woman-his-discover this pleasure for the first time. The idea gratified him in ways he couldn’t describe.

How long I’ve waited for this, waited for her.

"Now it just feels better and better." She touched her forehead against his. "Baby, I can feel your heartbeat inside me."

Soon you will in more ways than one. "You can never take this back, Lizvetta. I’ve claimed you for my own." But not completely. He still needed to bite her neck. Ritual. The mark was a sign of this claiming, the seal between them.

Sink your fangs into her. Make her writhe on them as well.

Just when his eyes locked onto a pulse point in her neck, she whispered, "I never knew it could be like this. Lothaire, I’ve never felt closer to another."

He dragged his gaze up to hers. Voice thick, he admitted, "Neither have I."

She smiled. "Good."

Don’t hurt her. Only gentleness. Don’t scare her.

Tonight, Lothaire, you don’t get to be a vampire with her.

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.

Chapter 42

When Ellie rose up and tentatively slid down the first time, Lothaire’s eyes widened, then grew hooded once more.

Was he as shocked as she was by how right this felt?

Even his irises appeared sharper, their shape more defined, his gaze lucid as it locked with hers.

Connection . . .

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.

He’s yearned all this time for me.

When she slowly began to ride him, she cupped his face, leaning forward to kiss him with all the feelings bubbling up inside of her. He met her mouth with a seeking tongue and unyielding lips.

Guard your heart, Ellie. But his possessive kiss . . . who could guard against that?

Or the sensations cascading over her? Her ni**les 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."

She could scarcely think, but for some reason she didn’t want him to have that power over her. "I’m not falling in love with you." I might be falling in love with you.

"Of course you are."

Guard your heart! "I-I never said that."

"Ah, but I’m me."

"Lothaire, are you always so danged chatty during sex? I can make tea. . . ."

He gave a pained laugh, then groaned when she twisted her hips.

"Lizvetta!" He pulsed inside her. "More of that."

She was already nearing her peak, but she wanted to see to his pleasure. This wasn’t just about her getting off; she needed to satisfy her man. She eased her rhythm.

A mistake.

"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 br**sts. "Given or taken."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, riding him with abandon. Yet as she watched his eyes, their clarity faded.

A growl began emanating from him as his shaft swelled inside her even more. His lips drew back from his fangs. "Need to f**k you hard." He looked wild, his eyes like fire.

Fear coursed through her. "Lothaire-"

He enfolded her in his arms and traced her to the bed-with her trapped beneath him.

When he thrust inside Elizabeth, Lothaire roared to the ceiling from the rightness of it.

He was a born vampire, and she was his fated female-now pinioned to the bed.

Through the haze of inconceivable pleasure, he felt her tense beneath him. No, she can take me. He withdrew for another thrust, plunging into her tight sex.

"T-too hard," she whispered.

"What? I want it hard! You’ll give me what I want."

"Please be gentler with me, Leo." She leaned up to kiss his neck with light grazes of her lips. Like a butterfly’s wings.

His mortal. So delicate. How easily he could break her little body.

Endgame! This creature is my queen. About to hurt her with my cursed strength.

But how could he keep himself from surging inside her? When each time he did, her channel stroked him-a moist, silken heaven that rubbed over his cockhead like a tongue, then squeezed his aching shaft like a fist. . . .

No one hurts her, including myself.

He gritted his teeth, then rose up on a straightened arm. Caging her in with his motionless body, he glided his thumb over her clitoris. "Work your h*ps up and down on me." Drawing on his last reserves of control, he kept himself from thrusting, until his muscles began to quake from the effort and sweat trickled down his torso.

Then . . . his Bride began to move beneath him. "Ah, that’s it!" He dipped his head to suckle her stiff ni**les. "Faster," he growled around a peak, giving it a nip with his fang, spurring her.

"Oh!"

She liked that. Getting so wet. The scent of her luscious sex made him snap, "Harder!" Put me out of my misery.

Her hands flew to his ass, fingers gripping, using him to pull herself up. Her moans grew louder, more urgent.