Lothaire

She whimpered, imagining that hot liquid marking her. “Do whatever you want!”

But he’d already begun dragging the head down her torso. In a haze of sensation, Ellie watched the damp crown trailing over her belly. “Lower, vampire. P-press it against me. Let me move against it.”

“Do you want us to touch? You want to feel me against those bare lips?” Again his tone was challenging. “Then kiss me. Rise up and kiss me.”

Ellie felt like the vampire was testing her, but to determine what?

* * *

Dragging her fingers away from her sex, Elizabeth put her hands behind her, raising herself on straightened arms. She leaned up to press her mouth to Lothaire’s, wantonly meeting his tongue.

Gods, she makes me crazy. He drew back. “Harder. Kiss me like you’ll die if you don’t come soon.”

Her eyes were locked on his lips. “I will!”

He grasped her shining hair and tugged her upward. “Do it!”

With a throaty cry, she leaned in. When he caught her mouth with his own, she sucked his tongue again, making his head swim.

And then . . . she tentatively licked one of his aching fangs, drawing her own blood for him.

He stilled in shock even while thinking, Yes, ah, gods, yes! Do it again. . . .

The little witch licked the other one. Harder.

Sharing another blood kiss with me?

The pleasure jolted straight to his cock, but the idea of her doing this burned into his mind. Too intense, too much from her.

Too . . . unforgettable.

He broke away. Furious with her. Thrilled with her. His cock about to explode. “Lie back, then.” He scarcely recognized his own voice. “Grab your elbows once more.”

When she obeyed, he rewarded her by inching his hips lower, his cock straining toward her wetness.

She wrapped her leg around his waist, spurring him on. Hot little

piece . . .

Finally, Lothaire rested his shaft against her quivering lips. Fuck!

He had to squeeze his cockhead to keep from instantaneously spilling. “So wet,” he hissed. “Dripping.”

With his other hand, he gently pinched her folds against his shaft, as he had with her breasts. Then he rocked over her clitoris.

“Oh—my—God!” Her hands flew to his hips.

“Elizabeth, still. Don’t you dare come yet!”

“Too late!” She shuddered, her long hair tumbling wildly over the sheets. “Can’t stop.”

He felt her nails bite into his ass as her hips rolled up and down, sliding her sex along his shaft. As soon as he released his grip, he’d spill. Can’t resist this. . . .

He spread his knees wider, shoving them against the backs of her thighs. When he thrust faster over her, her breasts bounced, her rosy nipples jutting. Too much . . .

Gaze locked on her heavy-lidded eyes, he rasped, “You want my seed.”

“Yes!”

“Then watch me . . . come.” He released his cock; his back bowed as semen rushed forth. “Ah! Elizavetta!” he bellowed, pumping out onto her belly.

As arcs lashed over her again and again, he grew thunderstruck—because she was writhing in another orgasm.

And smiling. Her lips curled with delight.

“Lizvetta?”

When he finished spending at last, he collapsed beside her with a groan, his shaft twitching against her thigh.

Too much from her. He needed to get away from her.

And still, he lay on his side with one arm sprawled over her breasts, his leg drawn up over hers, pulling her closer.

Then he frowned. They fit.

Like two puzzle pieces.

* * *

Ellie’s body was humming, her skin tingling as his hoarse exhalations hit her ear.

They lay like that as they both caught their breath. He even brushed his lips against her temple.

Daubing a finger in his seed, she gave him a saucy grin. “Look what I made you do,” she said, repeating his words.

Just as Ellie was thinking she’d made progress with him, he drew back, his face a mask of rage. “Question me again like that, and I’ll make you beg for your death!” Before he vanished, he grated, “And you still don’t compare to Saroya.”

She lay stunned, eyes darting, disbelieving what had just happened. But the glaring proof pooled on her belly.

Before, she’d found it erotic to feel him come over her; now she felt sullied by it.

Used. Ellie covered her face with her forearm, her bottom lip trembling. Not only hadn’t she been good enough to sway him, he’d mocked her again for trying to seduce him away from Saroya.

Stings so bad. . . .

She never let herself cry, not even in prison. Now she didn’t know if she could stave off her tears.

She’d just gotten off—again—with someone who’d threatened her, threatened her family, repeatedly. Someone who murdered.

Someone I hate so deeply.

Before she could burst into tears, she felt a stirring in her chest. Saroya. I wonder what the goddess would think about his spunk all over her? If she truly did scorn all things sexual . . .

Hell, even if she didn’t.

For the first time in her life, Ellie would let her rise without a fight. “For the buckets of blood I threw up. Have fun with this, goddess.”

28

“Oh, you little bitch.” Saroya rose up in bed, staring in horror at her coated belly. So close to taking fruit.

This was why I was compelled to rise. Lothaire’s seed felt as if it scalded her skin, like acid upon her.

Life in every cursed drop.

She rushed into the bathroom of her suite, frantically wiping it away, scouring herself with a wet cloth until her skin was abraded.

How Lamia would laugh.

If Saroya had risen when the vampire had asked, was this what he’d planned for her? Degradation? She’d known she wouldn’t be able to hide her revulsion!

Once she felt relatively clean of his marking, she assessed herself in the mirror. There were bruises on her upper arms and inner thighs. Was there blood in her mouth? He’d cut her tongue with his fangs!

Brute.

Saroya’s first impulse was to recede. But clearly, Lothaire had just been serviced. If he’d remained in the apartment, this would be an ideal time for her to face him. . . .

As she began to ready herself, Saroya longed for the ages when she’d had scores of attendants to bathe,