Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(56)

His fangs are sharp, yet my skin isn’t marked anew; his shaft is raring to go while my body’s untouched.

Saroya, that silly bitch—who’d had time yesterday to amass a new wardrobe, wax her privates, and get her nails done—had consigned her vampire to this condition?

Then left him in another woman’s company . . . a woman who looked exactly like her?

If she’s stupid enough to leave him unsatisfied, Ellie half-jokingly thought, then maybe I ought to feed his belly and release his steam. Turn him to my side.

She stilled.

What if she . . . did?

Could she win him over? Tempt him until he preferred her over Saroya?

Her eyes went wide. If there was a way to get rid of Ellie, maybe the reverse was true? Then she could coax Lothaire to cast out Saroya!

I could get my body back. My life back!

The vampire paced, reaching one end of the spacious room a split second before the next. His movements were as dizzying as her thoughts; for the first time in years, she realized, Maybe I . . . maybe I don’t have to die.

Ellie could bed Lothaire if she had to. She could close her eyes and pretend he wasn’t evil and that she didn’t hate him to the core of her being. Surely.

You didn’t seem to mind when he was licking all over your neck, Ellie.

At the memory, her nipples tightened again, but she forced herself to ignore her reaction.

Could she let him have her? Risking bodily harm? Pop . . .

What choice did she have? If all it took was a ring to be rid of Ellie, sooner or later Lothaire was going to find it.

Then Saroya would win.

Never.

I’m gonna seduce Lothaire. Make myself irreplaceable to him. But she knew that would take more than merely seducing his body.

If I were an ancient immortal, what would I want?

Energy, surprise, excitement.

Ellie could keep him on his toes, keep him guessing. She’d win over this vampire’s mind as well.

Then they’d boot Saroya’s ass to the curb, and Ellie would own her jewels!

I don’t have to die. My future is in my hands once more. She would use everything in her arsenal, all the lessons she’d ever learned, drawing on all her truck-cab follies, her vices and victories.

She’d pit her country wisdom against his worldly—and otherworldly—knowledge.

My fate boils down to making a vampire want me more than he does a goddess.



Lothaire paced, raging inside. Dawn had come and gone, the night over.

And Saroya was dormant. Which meant she had no desire to see him. Even after he’d explained to her that his lusts couldn’t be quelled. Even when the burgeoning pressure within him had turned to pain.

That bitch! I’d been right about her, I predicted this. Saroya would wait as much as a month to rise? While he was out battling for them?

Where was the loyalty, the unity between them?

His suffering mind could hardly process this situation. He should have forced her into his bed yesterday—instead of buying her goddamned clothes!

With a bellow, he swung a fist, crushing an antique whiskey service.

Never had he wanted a woman who didn’t desire him back.

“Lothaire?” Elizabeth murmured. “I need to tell you something.”

“Then say it!”

“It’s embarrassing. I’m not going to shout it across the room.” She twisted her hair up, leisurely tying it into a knot.

She played with those silky strands as if she knew just how it affected him. Eyes riveted, he imagined she’d bared her neck for him.

Bared it in invitation. His shaft throbbed harder. “Tell me.”

She crooked her finger. “Kindly come?”

He rubbed his tongue over a fang, then traced to stand just in front of her. “What?”

She stood, going up on her toes. When she laid her delicate hands on his chest, he nearly shuddered.

At his ear, she breathed, “Lothaire, I can tell you’re stiff as timber.”

That was . . . unexpected. Another near shudder. “You think I didn’t notice?”

“Just wanted to let you know that others could too.”

“Look at it, Elizabeth.” He pinched her chin and pulled her head down. “Would I ever be so deluded as to think that could go unnoticed?”

She kept staring down at his shaft even after he released her. His own head fell back.

Can feel her pretty gaze on it.

He envisioned pressing her to her knees, then feeding his cock between her lips. He’d command her to suck it until there was nothing left of him. . . .

She murmured, “Maybe you want to come back in here afterward.”

“After what?”

“After you go take care of that.”

“You assume I need to tend to myself.” After the first stroke, he’d be right back with her, roughly groping, desperate to spend with her. Or rather, with Saroya.

My Bride. Who won’t deign to see me. Then f*ck her. He would use this mortal for his own pleasure. And if the fancy struck him, he’d make her luscious little body come, climaxing so hard that the goddess would still be feeling it when she did make an appearance.

“You are going to tend to me, girl.”

Elizabeth displayed no fear, no surprise, just took his measure with studying gray eyes.

“You’re not going to fight me?”