Marissa Day

by The Seduction of Miranda Prosper

  Then Darius spun her into his arms and captured her mouth in his. His body was so hard, so hot, as he pulled her to him, grinding his hips against hers while he rained kisses down on her mouth and throat. How had she stayed away so long? How had she forgotten the fire these two men lit in her body and her soul?

  But even as she thought it, she remembered the Fae knight, and how it had felt to drink away his sustaining magic, how she had watched him dwindle and die, and felt nothing but pleasure.

  She remembered how Darius had thought her mother had betrayed her humanity for gain, and how he had wondered if Miranda was a traitor not just to the nation but the whole world.

  Miranda threw herself backward, breaking Darius’s embrace.

  “I’m sorry.” She stumbled backward. “I’m sorry!”

  “No, I understand.” Darius’s hands fell to his sides. “I promised to stand by you, and then I failed you.”

  Miranda stared. Corwin walked up to Darius and laid his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “It was no one’s fault. We were all afraid and filled with suspicion.”

  Darius lifted his head, his eyes filled with hope and sorrow. “Could you forgive me, Miranda?”

  Miranda had thought her heart could not break any more. But the sight of Darius pleading for understanding undid her completely. “Of course I forgive you,” she whispered.

  “There! You see!” Corwin slapped Darius’s shoulder. “I’ve been telling you all these weeks! A little faith in our Miranda was all that was needed—”

  “No,” she whispered. “No. I’m not your Miranda.”

  Corwin stopped, his mouth frozen in a smile from which the mirth drained rapidly.

  “I came to say farewell,” she went on. “I cannot see you ... I cannot be with you anymore. But you deserved to hear that directly. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Corwin reeled backward, and it was only Darius’s hand on his back that steadied him. “Why, Miranda?” Darius croaked. “What have we done?”

  “It’s not you!” she cried. “It’s me! It’s what I am!”

  “You are Miranda Prosper,” said Corwin. “You are our beloved.”

  Beloved. Oh, God help her, how sweet that word sounded coming from him! “I am a monster! I kill with my touch and I delight in it! I almost betrayed everything, everyone, because being with Mr. Summerfields felt so good that I couldn’t even think of anything else!” Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as the words tumbled out of her. “I am a disgusting, licentious creature! I will not risk your lives with my presence!”

  “Gods all,” whispered Corwin. “Miranda, you cannot truly believe this.”

  “What else is there to believe?” she demanded. “I know what I am! I know it! I wish I had died in that house! I—”

  But before she could say anything more, Darius strode across the room and gripped her shoulders. “Stop this!” he roared.

  Stunned, Miranda stared up at him.

  “Stop this,” he repeated, more softly but no less sternly. “By all the gods, if I had known this was festering inside you, I never would have left you alone.”

  “Don’t touch me, Darius,” she whispered.

  “I will not let you go until you have heard me.” His blue eyes bored into hers, and she felt his will pressing against the edges of her mind, demanding entry.

  “No. Please.” She closed her eyes. “It’s hard enough as it is.”

  “Miranda Prosper, look at me!” he barked.

  “Look at us.”

  Corwin was beside Darius, and she felt his second warmth against her skin, and his softer, subtler, but no less persistent presence against her mind.

  “Look deep, Miranda,” Corwin urged. “See what we have seen.”

  She was so exhausted, so miserable, she could not hold her own against them. Slowly, her mind began to yield to their pressure.

  And she saw.

  She saw herself. She saw the chamber of horrors she had led them into. She saw Robin Summerfields the Fae knight and Lord Thayer the traitor. She felt the Sorcerer’s twinned weakness and their fear that they had failed. She saw herself walking forward, and, in reliving the ordeal from their point of view, saw herself as the shield between them and death. She drank in the knight’s power. She bought Corwin and Darius time to struggle to their feet. She fed them the power they needed to strike back and strike hard.

  She felt their triumph, felt their gratitude, felt their grim satisfaction at the death of their enemy.

  You did what was needful, Miranda. No more. You have been wounded, love, but wounds heal.

  But ...

  You did what was needful, and no more. You could have turned on Thayer then, as flush with power as you were. You could have turned on us. But you didn’t. You stopped when the fight was over. You thought to bring your mother out of that dreadful place, and to protect us, although no danger truly existed. Are these the actions of a monster?

  But I almost gave in. The Fae, he almost took me ...

  Almost. Almost. Miranda, Corwin’s hand was holding hers, and she felt his warmth envelop her soul. We have both seen strong men fall to the glamour that the Fae project, Catalysts and Sorcerers alike. It is what they do, Miranda. That pleasure, that beauty, is their ultimate weapon.

  Miranda felt her spirit tremble. How can you stand against it?

  Love. Their voices in unison rang in her mind, in her soul. Human love with all its passion and its frailty, its earthy lust and its high-flown spirit. No illusion of perfection can stand against that.

  “I love you, Miranda,” whispered Corwin.

  “I love you, Miranda,” said Darius.

  Miranda’s eyes opened. They stood with her, their arms around her. She could feel their breath, inhale their scents, feel their hearts beating. She looked into their eyes, into Corwin’s warm brown and Darius’s piercing blue. Midnight and dawn-light, they were the two halves of a great whole. One love joyous and open, one complex and hard, but no less true. Both offered to her. Both accepting her, trusting her, desiring her.

  Loving her.

  “I love you,” she breathed. “I love you!” she cried.

  “Miranda!” Corwin swept her into his arms, spinning them both around and laughing.

  “I love you!” she cried again because it felt so magnificent to say it aloud. “I love you!”

  And all at once she was on her feet again and staring into Corwin’s dark eyes. “And I you, Miranda Prosper,” he said.

  His mouth fell upon hers and this time Miranda did not hesitate at all. She opened wide to admit his tongue, sliding her own along it, invading his mouth deeply, reveling in the heat she found there. Corwin leaned her backward, one hand on the small of her back, the other gripping her ass possessively, sensuously.

  Darius’s hands reached up for her, and Corwin lowered her down into her other lover’s arms. She rolled over, stretching herself full length against his taut and ready body. It was so delicious to rub her whole self against him as she kissed him, hot and openly. His cock was already gorgeously erect, as hard as she was wet, and the realization made her moan.

  Above them Corwin chuckled, and she felt his hands on her back. But no magic removed her clothing. There were only Corwin’s clever fingers at her hooks and laces, slowly undoing her, while Darius’s commanding hands spread her legs. He caressed her thighs and gripped her ass so her pussy slid right against the ridge of his swollen cock. It was wonderful. It was what she had been longing for. It was agony, because it was not nearly enough to answer the passion raging through her.

  “Oh, please,” she whispered. She could not stand that there was so much cloth between them. She needed their skin against hers. Needed it now before she burst into flame. “Corwin, hurry!”

  “Now, why would I do that?” Corwin planted a teasing kiss on the back of her neck. “When it is so lovely to hear you beg like this?” He knelt behind her close enough that she could feel his cock swelling beneath his breeches. He reached beneath her loosene
d dress, cupping both her breasts through her chemise. His fingers sought her hardened nipples and began to pinch and to play. At the same time, Darius gripped her thighs and thrust his hips up against her, forcing her to rub him, to ride him. His heated palms ran up her naked thighs until his thumbs found her dripping pussy and her swollen, throbbing clit.

  “Yes!” cried Miranda as he stroked her there. “Oh, yes!”

  “Yes what, Miranda?” asked Corwin as he massaged her breasts, plumping and stroking in ceaseless, maddening rhythm. “Yes what?” He pressed his erection hard against her ass, settling her more firmly against Darius’s questing fingers.

  “Yes, make me come!” she cried. “Please make me come!”

  “Oh, yes.” He rolled her nipples between his fingers. Just as Darius pressed deep into her slit, arcing underneath her, Corwin dragged one hand swiftly down her body until it too found her pussy and her clit, and they were both stroking her there, both teasing her clit, both pressing their cocks against her.

  “Ah!” she cried out wordlessly as she came, rocking and bucking against their hands and their hard bodies and they laughed and stroked her and called her name.

  “Yes, Miranda, yes!”

  “Come for us! Come hard, Miranda!”

  And she laughed and wept as her shudders played themselves out so deliciously until she collapsed back against Corwin.

  “That’s it, Miranda,” murmured Darius as he stroked her thighs. “That’s what we like to see.”

  “You are so beautiful when you come.” Corwin kissed her mouth. “And there are so very many pleasures yet to teach you.”

  “Oh, yes.” Darius’s fingers lazily stroked her loose, heated pussy.

  “I want you,” she murmured, although she lacked the strength to do anything about it. As much as she wanted them naked, as much as she wanted their cocks, it felt so good to be held this way with their hands wandering over her body.

  “Do you know what I want, Miranda?” murmured Corwin. “Do you know what I have wanted from the first?”

  “What?”

  “I want to be in your ass with Darius in your pussy.”

  Surprise stiffened Miranda for an instant. “Both of you?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Darius, stroking her folds. “Would you like that, Miranda?”

  Miranda tried to imagine it, both of their hard cocks, one in her pussy and one ... back there, and imagination failed. “Is that even possible?”

  “It is.” Corwin nibbled her ear. “If the men are willing and the lady is just a little patient.”

  A vision seared in her and she couldn’t tell whether it came from Darius or Corwin: of their cocks filling her together, their rhythms merging as they fucked her and each felt the heated passion of the other thrusting hard within her.

  “Oh!” She arced her back, all languor burned away by fresh desire. “Oh, yes!”

  Darius pulled her down again, and again plundered her mouth while Corwin pulled down her dress and chemise, leaving her naked except for shoes and stockings. He gripped her ass, massaging and playing just as he had with her breasts, and this felt even better, because it rolled her pussy against Darius’s erection. Darius stroked her back and crushed her breasts against his chest. Magic prickled across them, and he was naked. The sudden sensation of his hot, rigid cock against her pussy made her gasp and moan. Corwin chuckled deep in his throat and pressed his hand against her soaked pussy, stoking her labia and lifting Darius’s tight balls so they rubbed against her.

  “Ah, God, yes!” groaned Darius as Corwin stroked them both together. “That’s good!”

  “Not as good as it will be.” Corwin pushed Miranda up and forward, and reached between her and Darius, to grasp Darius’s swollen cock. He stroked Darius, and the same motion rubbed Miranda’s pulsing clit, making her grind down with her hips and kiss Darius deep and hard. Darius gripped her head, holding her in place as he took control of the kiss. And while his tongue plunged into her, Corwin’s hands worked, opening her folds, guiding Darius’s hot, hard cock inside her.

  “There,” Corwin whispered, circling Miranda’s hips with his hands, settling her farther down onto Darius’s cock. “Is he deep, Miranda? Is it good?”

  But she couldn’t answer, because Darius would not release her mouth. He continued to kiss her, to stroke and fuck her mouth with his tongue. Miranda could only sigh and writhe against him, delighting in how his cock stroked her sheath when she moved.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Corwin massaged her ass slowly, moving her up and down on Darius’s hard, eager cock. Pleasure melted Miranda’s body and carried away all volition. She could do nothing but feel, Darius’s body and Corwin’s hands.

  Corwin’s finger pressed against her folds, then drew itself up the split to rest against her second tight, sensitive entrance. Slowly he pressed a damp finger inside, pressed and breached and probed, stretching her wider than she would have believed possible. It hurt, it burned, but oh, it was sweet pain, especially as Darius gripped her thighs, holding her in place for his cock and Corwin’s fingers. He eased a second finger inside her, pressing her so tightly against Darius’s cock she cried out with the delight of it. Darius moaned and writhed beneath her. “Now, Corwin,” he begged. “Now.”

  “Hold her tightly, Darius,” murmured Corwin. “Miranda, press outward as I press in.”

  Miranda felt the blunt tip of Corwin’s cock press against her. Uncertainty stiffened her, but Darius held her close, kissing her, stroking her back and breasts, suffusing her with pleasure, heightening her eagerness for new sensation. Corwin pressed forward, slowly, his hot cock stretching her as his fingers had, easing into her. There was pain as her muscles strained, but she remembered to press outward, and that pain was not greater than the pleasure of the two men, above her and below her, and both inside her.

  “Yes.” She arched her back. “Yes!”

  She could hold still no longer. She had to move. Had to feel them moving inside her. She strained, her thighs clasping Darius, Corwin’s clasping them both. She moved as they had taught her, and cried out again for the pleasure of it. They throbbed inside her. She held the hearts, the heat, the glorious strength of them both.

  “Now!” cried Corwin.

  And Darius arched below her and Corwin bucked forward, and both their cocks drove into her.

  “Yes!” she screamed. “Corwin! Darius! Yes!”

  After that there were no more words. There was only them inside her, driving themselves into her, stroking each other roughly and sweetly as they fucked her. Pleasure spilled from their separate minds and souls and bodies, twining together into a new and absolute passion.

  I’m coming! I’m coming! The cry rang from them all and through them all.

  The storm broke, wild beyond description, beautiful beyond compare. Her men bucked, gone past all possible restraint, and Miranda rode them, transformed from woman to pagan goddess by the strength of their glorious passion.

  And in the heart of the storm she knew that none of them would ever leave, ever doubt, again. She knew and accepted for now and forever the strength and the safety of love.

  Keep reading for a preview of

  the next novel by Marissa Day

  The Surrender of Lady Jane

  Coming soon from Heat Books

  One

  I’m here, Jane. The urgent male voice sent a hot shiver of longing down Lady Jane’s spine. I’m waiting.

  Jane was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming, and in the dream, she opened her eyes.

  As she had every night for the past three weeks, Jane found herself standing in a dark corridor carpeted with deep plush. Some nights she had been clad in only a white silk robe. Some nights she was dressed in a fantastic concoction of velvets like a medieval lady. Tonight, she was dressed for dancing in pale blue silk with three tiers of silver lace and rosettes. She felt the weight of plumes decorating her hair. But what truly mattered was the voice. Calling to her. Longing for her.

  I’
m here, Jane.

  Jane began to run.

  Doors flashed past her shoulders. Hints of movement caught at the corners of her eyes, but she did not stop. He was waiting, and she must find him.

  Breathless and flushed, she stopped before one of the identical closed doors, knowing, in the way of dreams, that it was the right one. She laid her gloved hand upon the surface, anticipation quickening her pulse. This was where the dream would change and become new. The only thing that would be the same after this was the waiting man, and the feelings he aroused in her.

  Jane opened the door.

  Warm candlelight filled a chamber as spacious as any royal apartment. The room was an Oriental fantasy furnished with all manner of velvet couches and lounges, some big enough to accommodate four or five persons at once. Silken hangings adorned the walls and green velvet draperies hid the windows.

  A man stood in the center of the room. Like her, he was dressed for dancing. Tight, white knee breeches encased his muscled legs and he wore a gray silk waistcoat embroidered in silver over a spotless white linen shirt. His coat was shimmering emerald green with more silver at the cuffs and throat.

  But the beauty of his attire was nothing when compared to the beauty of the man. He was not too tall, only topping Jane by six inches or so. He wore his blond hair long, and tied back in a sailor’s queue. Neither was he too broad, but built in good proportion with himself. Everything about his form spoke of active living. His face was magnificent, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. Jane’s breath caught in her throat as she met his bright green eyes. They slanted dramatically but were saved from being too feminine by his heavy brows.

  “Sweet Jane.” He opened his arms. “You are very welcome here.”

  Jane ran at once into her dream lover’s embrace. His mouth fastened on hers in a strong kiss. His tongue pressed against her lips and she opened eagerly, ready for the strange, sweet sensation of his tongue stroking hers while his hands caressed her shoulders and her back, gliding down to the curve of her derriere, around her hips and up again to brush the sides of her breasts. Jane shivered again, and felt him smile against her mouth.