Just her working to get off.
She'd never set out to rock a boy's world or anything like that. It was only a fortunate coincidence that the guy beneath her always got off, too.
And now the seam of her jeans and the top of Lothaire's shaft had aligned against her aching clitoris. She was about to start moving on him, and then it'd be all over. She'd find a rhythm that would bring her to her end.
"I can feel your heat," he grated. "Want these pants off you."
Take away that perfection? She pressed her forefinger over his lips, giving him an indulgent smile. "Just let me do what I'm needin' to."
Chapter 24
Lothaire put his hand over her throat, pushing her back. "You are mad, then?"
Again, he saw no fear in Elizabeth's eyes. They were heavy-lidded, a deep, lambent gray.
"You flirt with my rage, as if trying to bring it forth?"
"That's not what I'm trying to bring forth just now. Busy on something else." She used both hands to draw her silky hair up, piling it atop her head. The sublime scent of her hair washed over him as her br**sts swayed. His thoughts grew indistinct.
No! He was angered over something, needed to discipline her. "You've had your five minutes. Now it's time . . ." His words trailed off.
Because she'd begun to move.
Gods almighty. His head dropped forward, his gaze riveted as she languidly rocked her h*ps up and back over his lap, sensually rubbing her sex along his swollen shaft.
After another undulation, she moaned, drawing his gaze up.
His vampiric instincts fired, noting the changes in his prey. She panted her breaths as her pupils dilated; blood tinged her high cheekbones, spreading down her neck to her br**sts, stiffening her ni**les even more.
Yes, he'd seen lovers reach a point of no return when all inhibitions were lost, when nothing could pull them apart. Elizabeth was there.
For once, he thought he might like to experience that point himself.
"Lothaire, you're looking at my ni**les . . . still wantin' to bite me?" She lowered her hands, released dark waves of her hair, then clutched his shoulders.
"Lean forward, pet. I'll only use my tongue on them."
She shivered. "That's what you want?"
"Yes."
She leaned back.
Though her boldness attracted him like a font of fresh blood, his anger couldn't be denied. "You want me to suck them."
"Aching for you to."
"Then obey me now, Elizabeth!"
Eyes closed, head falling back, she whispered, "No."
He was the master, she was his belonging. She would mind him. Just as Lothaire reached to grab her by her br**sts and drag one to his mouth . . . he caught the scent of her arousal.
Like breathing a drug he knew he'd never get enough of. He groaned, "You're wet for me."
She wrapped her hands around his nape, holding on to him as she used his lap. "Sopping. Surprised you can't feel it through my jeans."
The idea of her so aroused that she soaked her panties and jeans . . .
A predator's impulses racked him, drives to master her, to take from her-his release, her blood. He imagined pinning his woman beneath him, her thighs forced wide to accept his c**k . . . or his mouth on her.
My fangs on her lush female flesh.
"Don't anger me, Elizabeth. My control slips."
She grasped one of his hands, bringing his forefinger to her lips. When she sucked it into her mouth, wetting it liberally, his c**k jerked in answer.
Then she placed his slick finger against one of her ni**les. Eyes rapt, he slowly circled the tip. "Can feel it throbbing."
With a cry, she spread her knees wider to get lower. The more he circled, the harder she rode him.
He was going to spend like this if he didn't stop her soon. Slumming with a mortal? But, gods, it felt so good. He couldn't prevent himself from bucking beneath her.
She moaned with delight, finally drawing his hands to her br**sts. When he felt her ni**les strain against his palms, he almost lost his seed.
"Eager little Elizabeth." He used her br**sts to press her down while grinding his c**k up against her. "Is this what you like?"
"Right . . . there."
"You're going to come?" If he was, then she would too.
"I'm so close." She bit that bottom lip as he yearned to do. Then her gaze settled on his own lips. "Vampire, I'll come from ridin' you . . . come hard till I scream, if I can kiss your mouth. You want me to?"
"You like to talk dirty, show me what else you can do with your tongue."
She hitched in a breath. Just as he perceived another flood of desire, she brushed her lips against his.
Hers were soft, giving. When she darted her tongue into his mouth, he met it, twining his with hers, swirling over and over.
Seeming to melt for him, she wrapped her slim arms around his neck as if she'd never let go, as if she couldn't get close enough. . . .
When she began sweetly sucking on his tongue, his eyes rolled back in his head.
Elizabeth!
How could this feel so good to him? The tales about a vampire's Bride were true? Infinitely more pleasure with his Bride. Too much pleasure.
No, she was a mortal, not his woman. Confusing her with my Bride. Even as he told himself this, his fangs readied for her. Take from her . . .
Against her mouth, he groaned, "Bite you." She didn't pull back; had she nodded?
Didn't matter. He sank one fang into her bottom lip, as if into a plum.
Blood spilled onto his tongue; his body jolted. "Uhn!" Her essence raced through his veins, like a fever spreading over him.
Frenzy took hold, lust mounting. Drop after drop wetted their tongues while she bore her sex down on his cock.
Nothing could feel this good.
He licked, he sucked. His vision wavered. Want to consume her, take her into me.
Too much. She's too fragile.
Too mortal.
Somehow he broke away from her to catch his breath and gauge her reaction, knowing she'd be disgusted by the blood.
He wanted to see that disgust, to remind himself that the human girl would never understand how he lived.
Her lids were heavy, but her gray eyes were fierce on his mouth. As if she hadn't noticed the blood trickling from her own, her hands shot out, her fingers tunneling into his hair. She grabbed two fistfuls and yanked him back into the kiss, licking his bloody tongue.
Fuck! Hot little piece!
With shaking hands, he cupped the back of her head and clenched her ass, drawing her to him, shoving her br**sts against his chest. As she rode him, her ni**les rubbed up and down over his sweat-slicked skin.
Make me come like this. Don't care. He grew light-headed. His c**k was engorged with seed, the crown thick with it. Just don't stop.
Between kisses, he rasped, "You'll come, I scent you're close. . . ." He knew if he cupped her right now, her jeans would wet his palm. He wanted to slip his fingers inside her, to lick her honey from them.
She pulled harder on his hair, writhing on him faster. Faster. Faster.
Her blood in his veins. Scorching friction over his cock. "Ahhh! Whatever you do . . . do not stop this . . ." Tongues tangling. Pressure building-
His body stiffened, back bowing. The pleasure made him break the kiss to throw back his head and roar, "Fuck! Elizavetta!"
For a moment, his mind rolled over, grew blissfully blank. All he could perceive was her heart racing.
Then he heard his own savage groan: "Woman, you're making me . . . come!" Seed shot from his cock, the ejaculation so strong he bellowed curses in Russian. He yelled uncontrollably with each jet, louder and louder.
Her undulations grew frantic. As she bathed se**n all over his shaft, he thought, Follow me, Elizavetta, follow me down.
"Lothaire!" Ellie screamed. "Oh, God, I'm coming, coming-" Her lids slid shut. Her orgasm overwhelmed her.
Wave after wave of searing, slick rapture.
But the intensity continued to build, almost frightening her. Her eyes flashed open. "L-Lothaire?" she whispered as her sex helplessly continued to spasm, empty. "It won't end!"
His fiery gaze was locked on hers. He spoke foreign words to her that she didn't understand, but they throbbed with ferocity, with hunger.
Those eyes . . . lost in them.
Finally, her release subsided. With a whimper, Ellie collapsed over him, burying her face against his neck.
I'm out of my depth.
She'd never known anything like this. There were orgasms, and then there was coming!
Wrapping his arm around her neck, he yanked her beside him, drag-
ging her close until her br**sts pressed hard against his side. She had no other place to put her hand but on his heaving chest, above his thundering heart.
Emotionally stunted, sexually desperate, she repeated to herself. That was the only reason she'd just screamed in abandon with the male who was bent on killing her.
The vampire who'd bitten her lip for blood.
After a hesitation, he rested his chin on her head. Just when she thought they were acting like normal lovers, he grabbed her wrist and shoved her hand into the wet heat of his pants. "Eager little Elizabeth. Feel what you made me do."
Without thought, she closed her fingers around his damp shaft, still semihard. When it pulsed in reaction, she sighed softly. The first one she'd ever held.
She longed to see it, to kiss it. Never had she been interested in giving head, as he'd called it. But now she licked her top lip, imagining it was the swollen crown. . . .
"If I wasn't so spent, I'd make you clean me up." He sounded angry, but then he leaned down to brush his lips over her ear. "With your tongue."
She shivered at his husky tone. As she pondered whether he was serious, and what her own reaction might be, he said, "The blood kiss didn't bother you."
"I was kind of in the moment. I pleased you, didn't I?" She gave him a squeeze, earning a growl. "Made you yell to the rafters?"
He suddenly went tense, clutching her wrist hard. "All your effort was in vain, little pet." He yanked her hand away. "Your pathetic attempt to garner my affections failed. You can't compare to Saroya."
Without another word, he disappeared.
Chapter 25
Wallowing in a human, just like my father.
Appalled with himself, Lothaire traced into his bathroom, stripping for another shower. As the water sluiced over him, he pressed his palms against the wall, grappling for calm.
In the throes, he'd wanted to consume Elizabeth, so frenzied he'd reverted to his native tongue.
He'd never lost control like that, couldn't remember ever coming so hard-as if he'd been dismantled like a puzzle, then slowly pieced back together.
And he hadn't even claimed her.
He would never forget the look in her eyes when she'd grabbed his hair, yanking him close for more of that blood-drenched kiss.
I'll never forget coming like a fountain as my Bride orgasmed over me.
No, no . . . she wasn't his Bride. Being near Saroya before had primed him; Elizabeth had merely been in the right place at the right time.
If Saroya had bothered to rise, she would have wrung that staggering ejaculation from him. Saroya would be the one intriguing the living hell out of him right now.
Of course.
Still, he kept replaying what had just occurred with the mortal, finding himself aroused all over again. Just moments after that kind of release?
He scowled down at his rampant cock. This will not do.
He'd ridiculed Elizabeth's intentions, expecting to be amused by her inexperience. At the very least, he'd expected her to feign desire. Instead, she'd been desperate to come, working his seed from him without using her mouth or hands.
By riding him. Wantonly. Which made him imagine her nak*d, riding other things. My thigh, my mouth . . .
Elizabeth had said she'd had boyfriends enough. How many had she practiced on to be able to move like that?
How many had been just like him, lost in her, powerless to do anything but spill beneath her? Lothaire's fangs sharpened with aggression at the thought of her with another.
At least none of her "boyfriends" had taken her virginity. He wondered why she hadn't squandered it. Lothaire hadn't been there to interrupt every swimming session with young males, and obviously she enjoyed her sexuality.
As did I.
He smirked. Elizabeth's maidenhead belongs to me alone.
His smirk faded. He would never know her like that. He could only claim Saroya.
Never to experience Elizabeth's unbridled passion? Never to inch his c**k into her dripping sex?
So he'd be no different from all her other conquests.
His fist shot out, connecting with the wall. Marble crumbled; his erection waned.
He wanted to kill anyone she'd been with. To annihilate them all. Horde vampires were notorious for seizing on sudden ideas, acting on stray impulses. Just as his mind was about to seize on murder and his seven little tasks became eight, he heard her marching into his bathroom.
Curiosity ruled him once more. What would she do?
He turned to lean his arm against the glass, resting his forehead on it. "Back for more, pet?" he said casually, though he felt anything but. She'd marched in with her br**sts still bared, her shoulders back. His fists clenched, his c**k distending once more.
She looked impetuous, her eyes defiant. She flipped that mane of hair over her shoulders, which almost earned her a position in his shower.