Immortals After Dark 12 - Lothaire

neck with light grazes of her lips. Like a butterfly’s wings.
    His mortal. So delicate. How easily he could break her little body.
    Endgame! This creature is my queen. About to hurt her with my cursed strength.
    But how could he keep himself from surging inside her? When each time he did, her channel stroked him—a moist, silken heaven that rubbed over his cockhead like a tongue, then squeezed his aching shaft like a fist. . . .
    No one hurts her, including myself.
    He gritted his teeth, then rose up on a straightened arm. Caging her in with his motionless body, he glided his thumb over her clitoris. “Work your hips up and down on me.” Drawing on his last reserves of control, he kept himself from thrusting, until his muscles began to quake from the effort and sweat trickled down his torso.
    Then . . . his Bride began to move beneath him. “Ah, that’s it!” He dipped his head to suckle her stiff nipples. “Faster,” he growled around a peak, giving it a nip with his fang, spurring her.
    “Oh!”
    She liked that. Getting so wet. The scent of her luscious sex made him snap, “Harder!” Put me out of my misery.
    Her hands flew to his ass, fingers gripping, using him to pull herself up. Her moans grew louder, more urgent.
    “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 cock 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 climaxed, 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 cock made him throw back his head and bellow, “Lizvetta! I claim you—”
    At the last second, he jerked back his hips, just as semen 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