For a long time, Lazarus's mind was… blank. All he could think of was her scent and how their chest met. Her heart was racing just as wildly as his just as his shaft pulsated with seeds spilling over and over again.
She had screamed liquid heat inside her belly that had coiled tightly crashed. Emma had never experienced something like this. Pain mixed with pleasure. The experience was out of the world. The intensity of it, crazy. She clung to him for her dear life as waves of pleasure hit her one after the other. She buried her face in his chest, hoping for some relief but her core throbbed and she could feel his cock throbbing against hers.
When the waves in her stopped crashing, she slumped against him. His chest was sweat slicked and so was she. Yet, the heady mix of their scent and arousals was surreal. How could she want a man so bad when all he did was to torment her, challenge her and look down upon her. And above all, he was going to cast her soul out.
She could hear his heartbeat against her and she slowly slid her hand to his heart. Suddenly a thought struck her. What if this heart belonged to her?
As soon as the thought came, she shoved it out of her mind. She was thinking this only because she was emotionally deprived of love all her life. The vampire had refused to kiss her. Yet another clue from nature that no one liked her. Emma tried to convince herself that she was using her body to seduce the vampire for letting her live. So a kiss was nothing.
Lazarus rested his chin on her head as he tried to catch up his breath. He had never in his life orgasmed so hard. Umm.. no. Yesterday he came and he came this badly. No. He came this hard today. After a while he gave up on this thought. Suddenly, he realized that was he acting like he loved her? He removed his chin from her head. "Next time I won't be wearing my trousers," he said in a husky voice.
She chuckled. Lifting her head, she gave him a proud smile. Slowly she took her hand to his shaft and pressed it softly. "I know you loved it, didn't you?"
Lazarus narrowed his eyes. He knew that she wanted him to tell her that she was better than Maeve. He swatted her hands away and said, "You are nothing compared to Maeve. If you think that at one time, you have swayed my decision for you, then you have failed miserably!"
Emma was so shocked that she felt extremely miserable. She stopped the urge to cry at his rude statement. With a ragged breath she got up from him and stood on the rug. As glared at her and without a word, traced away. The next she heard was water flowing in the bathroom. Her lips trembled at the way he spoke to her. Anger warred with woe over this encounter.
She had known her share of miseries, but this one topped all. He ridiculed her passion and dared to compare her with a goddess who was above her in all senses.
---
Lazarus had never lost control of himself like this. He had always been in control and even on his own he had never come this desperately. But thinking that he came this hard for a mortal—it made him furious. In that moment he wanted to pierce his fangs in her but thankfully he curbed his intentions at the nick of time. She was his mate and he marveled himself for not claiming her. Of course, he won't claim her. He would only claim the goddess.
He was sure that he was not going to come back to her for this again. But the orgasm that he got was… surreal. The feeling washed over him. He grabbed the edges of the tub and resting his head back on the tub's edge, he closed his eyes. His mate had given him so much pleasure, he pondered. But then immediately he corrected himself. It wasn't Emma who did it. It was his want for Maeve. If Maeve had been here, she would have been the woman giving him pleasure. However, as much as he convinced himself, thoughts of Emma bounced around his head. The way she looked at him, the way she wanted to kiss him, and the way she liked it. Strange. Even though their arrangement was temporary, she chased her orgasm as if she was dying for it. Lusty little piece.
Now he wondered if she had any experience in this. And that thought was enough for him to clasp his hands tightly round the tub's edges which cracked under the impact. But he was keeping an eye on her all the time. He knew that she wasn't into having boys, curtsy him. Yet who knew she went to them when he wasn't there. And that made him regret his decision. He should have brought her to the palace earlier.
Lazarus was known for his ruthlessness. He had killed so many in his frenzy. All he wanted to do now was to kill all the boys who had even dared to touch her. The small punishments that he gave them was nothing.
All at once, he heard the door open with a bang. Seeing her standing in his shirt made his chest filled with satisfaction. With one breast still popping out of it, his erection hardened again. His earlier anger gone, he smirked. Lusty little mortal. His voice going throaty, he said, "If you think you would wrench another orgasm from me, then you are mistaken. Leave me alone. I am thinking about Maeve and what she would have done."
Emma's chest was heaving hard. Her teeth were clenched and there was a storm in her eyes. What was she thinking? She surely wanted another session with him. His muscles bulged at the idea. Well, why not? He was the best specimen of his race and women wanted him all the time. But what Emma did next was beyond his imagination.
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