Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(67)

“Yes, forever, Lothaire.”

He curled his finger under her chin, instead of pinching it. “You want to be with me.”

This unexpected tenderness, coupled with his vulnerability, was making her chest ache.

“Waited an eternity for you.” He ran his knuckles along her cheekbone, his expression one of longing. And she had the strangest urge to cry. “I didn’t know what you would look like. Imagined for centuries, searching faces.”

“Are you happy with how I look?”

Another roguish smile made her heart clench. “I could stare at Saroya for hours.”

A compliment, Ellie supposed. She tilted her head at him. Lothaire appeared younger when he grinned. “How old were you when you turned immortal?”

“I was thirty-three when my heart stopped beating.” He sighed. “Last time I took a maid.”

As she’d thought. Thousands of years without a woman. “Are you truly evil, Lothaire?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.

“Do you really mean to do me harm?”

“When I find the ring, yes. To you, I’m nothing more than death,” he said, even as he gave her cheek another tender stroke.

“Will it hurt when you cast out my soul?”

“The ring might bring you pain. I don’t know.”

Disturbingly vague. “You won’t show me any mercy?”

“Mercy? My father begged me for it once. After I decapitated him, I fed his remains to the dogs.” Lothaire gave her a sinister smile, so different from his heartbreaking grin. This was more a baring of his fangs. “He hated dogs.”

“You k-killed your own father?”

He tensed around her. “Perhaps he oughtn’t to have buried me alive for six centuries.”

“B-buried—”

“Sent to my grave. Before I was dead.”

Oh, dear God. Last night, she’d recognized that she was out of her depth with Lothaire. Now she realized she was out of her depth with this entire new world of his. A world filled with hate and torture and murder.

No wonder he wanted Saroya.

And still, she found herself reaching out to smooth her fingertips along his strong jaw. “I’m sorry for what you’ve suffered—”

He snapped his head around and bit her forefinger.

“Ow.” Like some rabid animal!

When blood rose, he clasped her wrist and drew her hand to his mouth, closing his lips over her fingertip. As he began to suck, his lids grew heavy, then closed altogether. Those sculpted muscles relaxed all around her.

And oh, she responded to his obvious pleasure. Watching his lips work made her melt. When his tongue twined around her fingertip, she felt a slow, wet ache build between her legs.

Why hadn’t she let him suckle her breasts before? To have his hungry mouth working her stiffened nipples?

Suddenly he released her, his expression intent. “Need you.”

She swallowed, wondering what he would do now. “Lothaire?”

“Do you want me to touch you?”

Did she? Would he hurt her? If he could caress her as gently as he’d worked that puzzle . . .

Before he’d thrown it in a rage.

Ellie had planned to seduce him away from Saroya. Am I gonna give up after one failure?

He cupped her breast with a hot palm, those elegant fingers tugging at her nipple through the silk. She gasped, her body gone boneless.

“Answer me.” He dipped his mouth to her neck, teasing her with small grazes of one fang. “Yes or no, Elizabeth, before I stop pretending your answer matters.”

When he began slipping her nightgown up her thighs, she shivered with need, lost. “Yes, yes. . . .”





27


The fog receded. Lothaire wasn’t dreaming.

He had one of his hands on a tender breast, his other steadily inching Elizabeth’s lingerie up her taut thighs.

How had he gotten into this position? He couldn’t remember. Why did he taste her delicious blood? Why couldn’t he recall—

Wait. Had she been questioning him? As his mind began to clear, he realized the mortal had thought to take advantage of him. “You were digging for information?”

She swallowed.

“You little bitch!” He wanted to punish her—and he couldn’t. Blyad’! What would it take to secure the ring—and to finally be rid of her?

Frustration bubbling up inside him, he rose and brusquely tossed her back onto the bed, making her cry out.

Yet as she scurried to right herself, her nightgown rode up and he caught the fleetest glimpse of her sex.

Bare? At once, he traced to the bed, throwing her back down. “Have you a surprise for me? I’ll see it now—part your thighs.”

“No!” She yanked down on her nightgown.

He clamped his hands on her knees, spreading them, rucking up the gown.

Face gone red, she fought, but he easily overpowered her, wedging his hips between her thighs. “I did things your way the last time. Now I’ll do them my . . .” His words trailed off at his first sight of her female flesh. Glistening lips opened like petals.

A growl escaped him as his hand dipped to her.

He didn’t want to want her. But the sight of her aroused sex and its luscious scent made him lust beyond control. When she needed release, he instinctively needed to sate her.