Lothaire (Immortals After Dark Series, Book 12) by Kresley Cole

Author:Kresley Cole [Cole, Kresley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781439136829
Google: 8gc0HwtVRLIC
Amazon: 1439136823
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2012-01-10T10:00:00+00:00

Hate her. Want her.

For a week, Lothaire had kept his distance from Elizabeth, leaving her with Hag and ignoring her when they were forced to be together.

Never had he needed her more than now.

This entire day, he’d tracked Declan Chase—who’d survived through no help of Lothaire’s.

It turned out that the Blademan had been an immortal berserker all along, though Chase hadn’t known he was.

Again and again, Lothaire had tried to get close enough to him to tap into his mind, but his mate, Regin, had some kind of spell on her that repelled Lothaire.

The súka never left Chase’s side.

After a day of spying on the couple—including their enthusiastic bouts of sex—Lothaire returned to his apartment, weary but keyed up, lusting for his own woman. His Bride.

When Saroya had last surfaced, he’d sworn off the mortal. And once he’d purchased everything but the moon for the goddess, she’d agreed to rise in two weeks.

But what to do until then?

The separation from his Bride’s body was affecting his own—as well as his sanity. There’d been more sleep-tracing, more rages, and even blackouts while he’d hunted.

Instead of visions concerning the ring, he’d been dreaming of things he’d thought long forgotten, random memories—his own random memories.

A fair-haired infant reaching for me.

The Valkyrie Helen big with child, her eyes filled with sorrow as she gazed at her husband.

Nïx demanding, “Where is your patience . . . ?”

And more, Lothaire had perceived that mysterious presence again. The Daci. He thought he’d felt them outside the apartment on a couple of occasions. But none faced him.

Had they been following him, or had he only imagined their presence?

So many developments, so many moves. And I can barely keep my thoughts from Elizabeth, my lust under control.

Before he picked her up for the remainder of the day, he knew he had to ease some of this pressure. Seven days’ worth . . .

Lying back in his bed, he carefully unzipped his pants over his aching erection. As he clasped it in his fist and began to pump, he wondered whether Elizabeth had brought herself to come since their last time together.

While he’d been so busy thinking about his miserable sexual state away from Elizabeth, he hadn’t thought about hers.

She was a lusty female. The little peasant would probably ease her-

self.

Inside his home, caressing her virgin sex. That delicate bare flesh growing so slick . . .

The idea sent him into a lather and his fist bobbed. Would she take his suggestion and penetrate herself with a finger? Or two? Or would she wait for him to teach her . . . ?

His fangs dripped in his mouth, razor-sharp for her. He licked one, sucking his own blood, fantasizing that it was hers. His back arched as he groaned in Russian, “Wait for me, Lizvetta. Wait . . .”

Semen surged up his rampant cock as he rocked his hips, fucking his fist. . . .

Yet then he slowed. What if she had waited on him?

I want her hands on me. I want her to see me come.

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