Lothaire (Immortals After Dark 12)

"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, his voice strained. The burgeoning pressure in his c**k lashed him with the need to move his own hips, the vampiric urges he'd denied only growing stronger. Somehow he held himself still.

But he needed to mark her neck. His fangs were dripping for her, as sharp as they'd ever been. "Need to bite you."

"Yes! Do it."

"A true bite. Into your neck."

Without hesitation, she turned her head to the side, offering up that golden skin.

He ached to pierce it. "Try not to hurt you . . ." Must make the bite clean. He bared his fangs above her, pressed the tips against her neck.

They sank in deep, as if she'd drawn him into her.

Perfection.

He felt her screaming, "Oh, God, yes!"

Delirious with sensation, he swallowed the hot rush. Consume her completely. Her blood flowed true, as if straight to his heart, bonding them.

"Lothaire!" She arched beneath him. "I'm . . . I'm coming!" Her nails scored his skin.

He snarled against her, relishing her marks on him. Consume her. When she cl**axed, he felt her sex milking his organ, demanding its due.

Take as I give. Take . . .

No. He couldn't take more blood, nor could he plant his seed. Can't spend inside her. As he so desperately needed to do.

Somehow he fought the utter bliss of his bite, the rightness he'd never known. Somehow he released her neck.

Her back bowed once more. Her head thrashed. Coming again?

"Ah, gods, I feel you!" The pressure throbbing in his c**k made him throw back his head and bellow, "Lizvetta! I claim you-"

At the last second, he jerked back his hips, just as se**n began to pump from him, line after line marking her tender body.

Lothaire collapsed beside her, heart thundering, still languidly thrusting against Ellie's hip.

"You're mine now," he rasped, flicking his tongue against his bite mark.

Dazed. Can't get my bearings. The vampire had her not knowing up from down anymore. And she couldn't be happier.

He rose up on one elbow and brushed her damp hair back from her forehead, leaning down to kiss her at intervals.

When she could manage words again, she asked, "Why did you pull out?"

"I won't let you get pregnant."

She frowned. "You said you wanted heirs."

"We will have no offspring until you're a vampire. Tomorrow Hag will give you a contraception potion to last a month or two."

So high-handed. Not even asking me? "Do I get a say?"

"Just an hour ago, you agreed that I would make decisions for us."

Well, there was that. She cast him a smile. "You're right. Bottoms up on potions."

With an enigmatic look, he said, "I will guide you rightly, if you trust me."

She stared into his gaze. Could she blindly trust a male like him? She forced herself to nod.

"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 the end of the night, when she asked him for just one more time, he shook his head. "No matter how badly I want you." He dragged her close, until she lay over his chest.

"I'm fine," she said sleepily. "Your mortal can hang with even big, bad vampires."

He curled his finger under her chin, lifted her face. "Let's talk when you wake." He seemed to be really looking at her.

"Your irises are so sharp right now."

"My mind is easy."

She snuggled closer to him. "That makes me happy, Leo."

"You've pleased me this night." He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Above all things, you've pleased me."

It's him. Lothaire for me. Deal with the devil? If this is wrong, I don't wanna be right.

As she drifted off to sleep, she did feel protected, cared for. "I'm glad you chose me."

"I am as well." Then, in a lulling, loving murmur, he said, "But don't ever betray me, Lizvetta."

Once Elizabeth slept, Lothaire remained awake, wanting to enjoy this rare peace.

Her breaths on my chest. Tension easing from every muscle. Warm relaxation.

His mate. Claimed. She was the most exquisite thing he'd ever possessed.

As he threaded his fingers through her glossy dark hair, his thoughts were shockingly clear. Crystalline. I will figure out a way around my blood vows. His situation was merely a puzzle to solve.

And I'm the master of them.

His gaze fell on the diabolically difficult eighteen-piece puzzle among his collection. It would take sixty-five calculated moves to assemble it-without a single misstep.

Easing Elizabeth away with a kiss on her forehead, he traced to his chair.

Sixty-five laughably simple moves later, he held the completed puzzle in his stunned grasp.

Then Lothaire smiled evilly. I'm back. . . .

Chapter 43

I'll never get used to this, Ellie thought as waves lapped at her feet on a secluded beach in France. A balmy breeze danced over her skin, most of which was bared in a string bikini.

For nearly three weeks, Lothaire had taken her to moonlit shores all around the world-after Hag had given her a cool druid-looking tattoo around her ankle.

But that pain had been worth it to see the world. "It's gorgeous here, vampire." Almost as much as you . . .

He was barefooted, shirtless, wearing only low-slung jeans. Sea spray had dampened his hair and misted his chest. In the moonlight, his skin sheened, his eyes glowing.

Though he'd seen her thrilled expression with each locale they visited, his watchful gaze was locked on her face.

"Thank you for bringing me here."

A short nod.

After that first night of mind-blowing sex, Ellie had awakened, sore but happy, expecting things to be different between them. Instead, Lothaire had dropped her off at Hag's again, as if nothing had changed.

Well, except for the sizzling, toe-curling kiss he'd given her before he left. And then he'd returned early, asking her, "If you could go anyplace in the world, where would it be?

"Bora-Bo-"

She hadn't even gotten the words out before he'd traced them there. Whenever she was at Hag's, she read travel magazines, and then he'd take her to whatever destination she'd dog-eared.

Apparently Lothaire had been everywhere. She had yet to stump him in all of their journeys. He'd shown her all the Greats: the Great Wall of China, the Great Pyramids, the Great Barrier Reef. Plus the Maldives, the forests of Asia, glacial floes, and jungles . . .

Now she peered down at the water around her ankles. "Uh, Lothaire, why is the water glimmering?"

"It's phosphorescence."

At each destination, he would teach her new things about the area. He seemed to know everything, and she sensed he genuinely enjoyed teaching her. "Foss fur what?"

He spelled the word, then explained, "Tiny organisms that give off light when disturbed."

"Really?" She splashed for several moments, fascinated.

"You know, this isn't the last time you'll see it."

As someone who'd had time limits applied to her life span-twice-she found it hard to shake the feeling that death lay in wait. "Before we go, can we walk farther down the beach, maybe collect some shells?" She had a shelf at the apartment designated for nothing but sea shells.

"As you wish."

They walked in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

These weeks hadn't been perfect between them, of course. When they did get to sleep together, he had to chain himself to the bed. As he'd explained, "No more unplanned trips for my Bride."

And there were the matters of a bitch squatting inside Ellie and a ring to be found. Not to mention the constant tension she'd sensed in him, as if he was battling some force within himself.

One night after they'd made love, he'd murmured, "I wish I could tell you the things on my mind." Just the fact that he wanted to confide in her meant much. "You could help me see them clearly."

Yet no matter how much she asked, he wouldn't tell her. Maybe he was just growing impatient to turn her into a vampire. Could that explain the strain she'd begun to see on his beautiful face?

She was not so eager to be turned.

The idea of transforming into another species was terrifying to her. How could she not mourn all the things she'd be giving up forever? Her mother's fried chicken, waffles, beer.

Sunshine. She'd asked him, "Do you ever wish you could spend a day lazing in the sun?"

"I can't miss what I've never known."

"But I could."

"We'll see about that. . . ."

Most of all, she would miss her loved ones.

He'd told her, "You'll never see them again, Elizabeth. I am your family now-you took my name the instant I claimed you. Your loyalty is to me alone."

Even if she believed she could wiggle around that proclamation, there were other worries.

She'd learned that there were virtually no female vampires in the Lore-because they'd all died of some kind of immortal plague, one that only affected them. "What if I catch the plague when you turn me?" she'd asked him.

"That should be the last of your worries. Worry about assassins, wars, torturers. But not a sickness."

"Is your world always so violent?"

He'd admitted, "The Lore is a . . . ruthless place."

To survive in it, Ellie would have to grow more aggressive, callous even. He'd told her that the ones who survived longest were the notorious ones, the immortals with reputations based on some bold coup or brave deed.

In prison, she'd worked so hard to hold on to her humanity. Now she would be expected to throw it away.

Did she want to be with him badly enough? To change herself so drastically?

If she loved him, she might. But she didn't. Not at all. Mind over mind. Only a fool would love him. . ..

Besides, every time she felt like she was in danger of falling for him, they'd have an argument over something.

A few nights ago, when he'd been obsessively poring over his prized account book, she'd cleaned up some debris from his various rages and washed their linens.

He'd been aghast. "You . . . you cleaned?"

"Someone had to. I don't like sleeping on dirty sheets."

"Until we can hire servants, we transfer to another room. Another property, even! No Bride of mine cleans."

"You keep trying to change me, the way I talk and act. You're gonna alter my very species to fit yours. When will you change something for me?"

"This ancient dog will learn no new tricks. Besides, it's a female's place to adjust to her male."

Ellie had bitten her tongue to keep from screaming at him. At times with him, she bit her tongue so hard it'd bleed.

And they'd quarreled because of his irrational jealousy. One night, he'd taken her to a creek she used to swim in when younger. "Why did you bring me here, Lothaire?"

"You once liked this place."

She'd loved it there. Yet her thrill over the thoughtful gesture had faded directly. "How'd you know that?" The vampire must have seen her here-at night. "You spied on me?"

"I spy on everyone. Why would you be different? Soon you will go spying with me."

Then realization had dawned. "Oh, my God, you're the one who hurt Davis, the boy I was with. You saw us together, and you threw him down a gully. He broke both of his legs!"

"He lived?" Gaze narrowing, Lothaire had murmured, "Not for much longer."

Ellie had barely kept him from searching out her old beau with intent to do murder.

Getting him to forgive Thaddeus was just as much of an uphill battle. "Come on, Lothaire," Ellie had said. "He only wants to visit us at Hag's. He can help guard me when you're away."

"Forget it."

"He's your best friend." Not necessarily because Lothaire cared anything about Thaddeus, but because the boy cared more about Lothaire than anyone else in the Lore did.

"How do I know you won't mortify him with more of your kisses?"

"Because you know I'm infatuated only with you. Besides, you can trust him. Any other man would have kissed me back." When he remained unmoved, she'd cried, "You're jealous of an eighteen-year-old boy!"

"He's seventeen."

Eventually, she'd won Lothaire over. Or so she'd thought. 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. . . ."

But after her fights with Lothaire, whenever he found her pensive, he surprised her with new gifts. He'd brought her jewels from all over the world. Ellie's own jewels. She supposed the others were hers, too, but these new ones were special because he'd chosen them specifically for her.