Marissa Day

by The Seduction of Miranda Prosper

  Miranda let out a shriek at the suggestion—half in fear, half in anger—and jerked backward, grinding her hips against Darius, who was now as fully hard as Corwin. Corwin grasped her hips, pinning her in place, so that he could catch the tip of her breast with his tongue and lap at it. Miranda writhed, caught between their bodies, one cock pressing against her belly, the other at her back, each movement heightening the burn of her pleasure. She moaned again—this time holding nothing of the sound back—twisted again, rubbing harder, seeking something she did not comprehend, but knew she must find.

  “Ah, yes, Miranda,” said Corwin, his lips and hot breath brushing her nipple with each word. “You must show your lovers how well they please you. You must tell them how you want them.”

  “Yes. Yes. I want you.”

  “Yes.” Darius took hold of her arm and reached for her loosened gown. He drew down one lace-edged sleeve, then the other, first of the dress, then of the chemise beneath, so that she stood bare-breasted in the moonlight.

  “Beautiful,” murmured Corwin reverently

  Darius slid his hands under her breasts and lifted them, offering them up to Corwin. Corwin did not hesitate, but took her in both his hands, claiming her mouth once more while he stroked her, rolling her nipples between his fingers, caressing her, massaging her. She gasped and sighed and arched against him. Darius pushed her dress down farther: to her waist, to her hips, to her thighs, and finally let it fall. She wrapped her arms around Corwin, rubbing her body, naked except for her gloves, stockings and shoes, against his buckskin-clad thighs.

  Darius closed his hands around the halves of her ass, squeezing and caressing her there with rhythms as confident and masterful as those Corwin used on her breasts. She dug her fingers into Corwin’s shoulders, wanting nothing more than for him, for them both, to be naked against her.

  By some unspoken signal, they began to lower her down to the satin quilts spread upon the arbor’s floor. Darius pulled Miranda to him, and Corwin pushed her back so that she leaned against Darius’s chest while he lay against the pile of cushions. From behind, Darius ran his hands over her hips, to her thighs, pulling them apart until she sprawled wide-open on top of him. Corwin knelt in front of her, and pulled off her gloves, drinking her in with his eyes as Darius stroked her belly and her inner thighs.

  “Now, Corwin,” said Darius. “I think you should strip for our lady.”

  Corwin’s smile was dark and wicked. Slowly, he stood. Darius’s hands stroked Miranda’s thighs, rising higher and higher until he brushed her dark, damp curls with his palm. He cupped her and she gasped, her eyes falling closed.

  “Watch,” Darius commanded, squeezing her there, sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through her. “Watch your lover, Miranda, as he readies himself for you.”

  Miranda’s eyes flew open. Corwin towered over her, dark and tall and magnificent. The moon’s shadows outlined the bulge of his erection. He stroked himself, once, and again. With his free hand, he opened the buttons of his waistcoat, revealing the shining white linen shirt underneath. He undid the buttons of his fly, one after another. She stared, hungry, fascinated at his unabashed display, as he stripped off both coat and cravat. At the same time, Darius’s finger touched the very tip of her slit, and then slid down between her folds. Shameless, searing pleasure flooded her and she groaned, pressing back against Darius’s hot, hard cock.

  “You’re so wet, Miranda,” said Darius, stroking her with the same two fingers he had given her to suck. “So wet and so ready. I could make you come right now. Do you want me to make you come?”

  She didn’t know what he was talking about, but all her internal muscles clenched at the promise in his voice, and at the sure touch of his hand as he slid his fingers down to the entrance of her sheath. Darius’s skin was fever-hot beneath her, and the hairs on his chest and thighs created strangely delectable sensations against the sensitive skin on her back and legs. But best of all was his hot cock pulsing against her ass and back. She struggled to keep her eyes open, to watch Corwin as he pulled his white shirt off, revealing the expanse of his chest. Miranda cried out at its loveliness, leaning forward to reach for him, which plunged Darius’s fingers deeper into her, even as he pressed down with his forearm to hold her in place straddling his thighs and hard cock.

  “Not yet, not yet,” Corwin said, with a dark glee in his voice. “Not until you ask nicely.” Darius pulled her back against him, stroking her pussy with one hand, plumping her breast with the other.

  “Please,” she whispered. The fingers in her pussy stroked up, and down again, and up higher and more firmly, coming to the tight nubbin of flesh that throbbed at the tip of her slit. Darius pressed there, and the sensation was so intense, she saw stars, and when her vision cleared, Corwin had removed his boots, and kicked his trousers away.

  He was magnificent. His cock was huge and hard and beautiful. She wanted it. She wanted it in her hands and in her pussy and now she knew why she had sucked so eagerly on Darius’s fingers—because she wanted it in her mouth too.

  “He’s going to suck you, Miranda,” said Darius, his fingers circling her nub in time to his words. “He’s going to suck you until you learn what I mean when I speak of you coming for us. And when that is done, he’s going to fuck you just to make sure you have learned your lesson properly.”

  And Corwin knelt in front of her, in front of them, and slid his hands up her thighs, spreading them wider, pressing her back farther so that Darius’s hot cock nestled itself deep between the halves of her ass. Darius shifted his hands to her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingertips, wringing another moan of delight from her.

  “Say you want it, Miranda,” Darius ordered. “Say you want us.”

  “Yes!” she cried out. “Oh, God, yes! Please!”

  “Yes, Miranda,” whispered Corwin, and she could feel his soft, heated breath against her pussy. “Now.”

  There was nothing soft about his coming down to her. His tongue plunged into her slit, strong and sure, licking up all the way to her nub, and down to her entrance, plunging inside, pulling out and thrusting in again. Miranda screamed as the pleasure took her. As in the vision, she knotted her fingers into Corwin’s hair to hold him in place. He lapped at her slit, each wicked stroke driving her further from sanity. He lifted her right leg and then her left over his shoulders so he could nuzzle closer. She would die if he continued. She would die if he stopped. Darius’s hands closed tightly around her breasts, playing unceasingly with her nipples as Corwin grabbed her hips, bracing her against Darius so he could thrust his tongue more deeply into her. Darius’s cock rubbed hard between the halves of her ass, heightening her delirium.

  “Come for us, Miranda,” panted Darius in her ear, lowering one hand to stroke her belly, to hold her more firmly against his cock as she writhed in pleasure from Corwin’s thrusting, teasing tongue. “Show us how good it is for you. Come now!”

  And Corwin ran his tongue over her nub, licking and sucking hard as Darius rolled her nipples once more. Her pleasure spiked, impossible to contain a heartbeat longer. Miranda screamed as her body—so wonderfully confined between her two lovers—erupted into frantic spasms of ecstasy that set her slippered heels drumming against Corwin’s back.

  Slowly, the spasms eased, leaving her suffused with a delightful, silken lassitude.

  “Oh, Miranda,” murmured Corwin, lifting his head from her pussy. “You are so very sweet.” He gathered her, limp and dazed, into his arms, and pulled her down to the ground with him, cradling her on top of his body, kissing her softly. She smelled her own scent on him, and tasted salt and musk like the sea.

  Miranda stretched out on top of Corwin. His hands wandered up and down her, stroking her back, her ass and her thighs. All the while he kissed her gently, the tenderness of his lips and the very tip of his tongue soothing her, drawing her back from the deep place into which she had fallen. He was hard. She was aware of the press of his cock against her thigh, but she could mus
ter no urgency at the awareness. It was merely one more pleasant fact in a haze of sensual enjoyment.

  At last, Corwin rolled them onto their sides, deepening his kisses. She did not resist. She lay lax and content, letting him take what he wanted from her. But slowly, a kind of restlessness rose up in her, a sense that this thing, as fine as it was, remained incomplete. She had thought her strength gone, but the more he caressed her, the more she wanted to touch him. She ran her hands up his sides, across the hard planes of his chest, down his well-muscled thighs, enjoying the warmth of his smooth skin against her palms and losing herself in the exploration of the strange new landscape of his body. Her hands knew neither shame nor hesitation. He was open to her, nothing forbidden. She gripped his wonderfully hard ass and squeezed, delighting as it made him kiss her more deeply yet.

  Her hand stroked up his thigh, and brushed the side of his hard cock. For the first time she felt the velvet softness of it against her fingers, and suddenly it became vitally important that she touch him there again. She wrapped her fingers around the thickness of his shaft, marveling how it was both soft and hard, and how she could feel his heart beating against her hand. She squeezed slowly, as if testing the sensitivity of his flesh.

  “Oh, yes, Miranda,” Corwin groaned. “Oh, gods, yes.”

  Excitement sparked afresh in her. She could undo him too. She ran her palm up his length, cupping his blunt tip, stroking down, drawing her fingers around the hilt of his shaft. His balls were high and tight. She hefted them against her right palm even while she continued stroking his shaft with her left. Corwin groaned aloud and she rewarded him, stroking and squeezing until his eyes fell closed and his fingers dug hard into the softness of her ass.

  It was sweet. It was mesmerizing. It was power of a sort she had never imagined.

  “Enough!” Darius’s voice grated harshly behind her. Miranda started. She’d all but forgotten he was there, watching everything she did with, did to, Corwin. The fresh awareness of it shot fire into her veins and she felt her pussy begin once more to swell and strain. Without taking her hands from Corwin’s cock, she turned her head to look at Darius.

  Darius crouched in the darkness, his blue eyes blazing with reflected moonlight. His member jutted out of the darkness between his thighs. He was not a man. He was an incubus, a daemon lover come from the shadows to take her.

  She should have been terrified, but she wasn’t. Desire, as hot and sweet as mulled wine, poured through her. She was alive with need now, with one man’s hard cock in her hands, and another displayed so blatantly for her.

  “Take him,” ordered Darius. “Now!”

  Miranda knew what he meant, but she hesitated, caught between the flames of desire and an abrupt remembrance of how little she knew of these matters, even between one woman and one man.

  But Darius growled and crawled forward. Corwin, panting, watched the approach of the other man with wide eyes. His hands quickened their rhythm on Miranda’s breasts, and his cock throbbed hot in her hands.

  Darius crawled behind her. Miranda sucked in her breath, both afraid and thrilled as he grabbed her hips. He ground his cock against her ass, forcing her pussy against Corwin’s velvet length. She gulped and cried out, and pressed Corwin against her again. Nothing had ever felt so good. Nothing could feel so good. Corwin was calling her name, and Darius’s, and together, the men’s hands were raising her up until she straddled Corwin’s thighs.

  For a moment she felt the broad head of Corwin’s cock at her entrance. For a heartbeat she knew fear.

  Then Darius pressed her down, and Corwin pulled her down, and his cock plunged full length into her sheath. Shock and anticipation made her cry out. Pain blazed for an instant and was gone, and he was inside her, embedded to the hilt in her satin heat.

  Glorious.

  “That’s it, Miranda.” Corwin stroked her thighs lovingly, firmly. “Feel it. Feel how good it is.”

  “Yes.” Miranda stretched herself, leaning forward to deepen the press of him in her, lost in this new sensation. She ran her hands up Corwin’s chest. Her fingertips found his nipples, and she played with them as he had played with hers. To her amazement, he laughed. She had not imagined people laughed during the act, and a new, gentler warmth surged through her.

  “Now, Miranda Prosper,” said Darius roughly. “We will teach you to ride.”

  From behind, Darius pulled her to him until she could feel his cock pressed against the small of her back and his balls rubbed her ass. Mischief overtook her and Miranda shimmied her hips. A wave of pleasure almost drowned her as Corwin’s cock slid against her inner skin and Darius’s against her outer.

  “So eager.” Darius drew his hands hard across her belly, moving his left up to grasp her breast, and his right down to plunge his fingertips into her slit. “So sure she is ready. Let us see how well you take to this kind of ride, Miranda.”

  Beneath her, Corwin thrust up, and behind her Darius pressed down, and she gasped again. Darius’s thighs and hands worked together, bringing her down to meet Corwin’s thrusts, then lifting her up and bringing her down again. Corwin’s fingers dug into her thighs. His shaft stroked her slick sheath, hard and harder, and Darius’s fingers in her slit matched the rhythm. Miranda caught that rhythm, and her own thighs began to work, began to move, driving Corwin deep into her, stroking Darius against her, against her ass and slit, breast and nub. It was too much. It was not enough. Corwin called her name. She cried out in answer.

  “Harder!”

  “Beg us,” ordered Darius, circling her nub with two fingertips.

  “Please!” she moaned, grinding down on Corwin’s cock. “Please! Harder!”

  Corwin thrust up and Darius drove her, drove them, down. His cock and his balls slid against her as he bent her forward, forcing her pussy to press against his fingers, moving Corwin’s shaft deeper into her. Corwin surged forward, grasping Miranda’s breast and guiding it into his mouth. He suckled her, hard and fast. Together her lovers thrust, and she struggled with them and against them, trying to escape, trying to force them deeper and closer. Her mind was gone. The whole world was gone. There was only the sensation of their hands and mouths and cocks, only the harsh sounds of their breathing, as they all of them thrust together again and again.

  Then Corwin shouted and his hips arced up, driving his cock hard into her until his balls crushed her pussy and slammed her nub against Darius’s fingertip. They hung like that for a timeless moment and Miranda felt herself flying free, her spirit stretched against the moonlit night, open wide to draw in all the pleasures of the world.

  Corwin bucked wildly beneath her and Darius shouted and pumped his cock uncontrollably against her ass, his fluids hot against her back, and his fingers driving into her. Their twinned ecstasy poured into Miranda, raising her higher and higher still. She was beyond her own body, beyond the dull Earth. She was a being of air and golden light and wild power separate now from her earthly flesh. Her body, strained past its limits to endure its delight, rode her lovers hard, until it had to shudder and buck and cry out. She was aware of all this, and yet it was almost a trivial matter. The other, soaring pleasure that enveloped her spirit was so much greater and more absorbing.

  Once more, her body’s delectable spasms slowed and soothed. Now Miranda looked down at Corwin beneath her, and saw he looked strangely pale. Corwin’s eyes, wide with astonishment and something very close to fear, met hers.

  “What ... ?” said Darius thickly. He pulled away, falling sideways onto the blankets. But beneath her, Corwin couldn’t move.

  Miranda reached out and stroked Corwin’s brow. Poor creature. It was too much for him, this wild pleasure. She felt his cock begin to soften in her.

  “Sleep,” she whispered. Slowly, Corwin’s eyes closed and his head lolled back. She climbed off him and stood, stretching her arms overhead toward the shining moon. It was all so beautiful. The night air was soft against her skin. The moonlight thrummed through her veins, stroking each ner
ve ending—sensitized by the passion her lovers had shown her—into fresh life. She was strong. She was free.

  Darius struggled to push himself back onto his knees. “What have you done to him!”

  Miranda looked down at Corwin, huddled unconscious at her feet. Some part of her mind was aware she should be concerned at his pallor, and at how shallow his breathing was, but she could not make it matter. So, she simply bent to reclaim her shift and gown.

  “Stop!” Darius flung out an arm to intercept her. Miranda turned and struck out in one fierce movement. Darius flew backward, hitting the trellis hard enough to shudder the entire arbor before he slid to the ground. Miranda regarded him with her cool gaze for a moment, then turned. Shrugging casually into her clothes, she walked away and left her lovers lying on the ground behind her.

  Three

  Darius’s first thought was to charge past the bounds of the protective circle and drag Miranda back to them, but one glance at Corwin’s pale form lying amid the scattered cushions stopped him cold. On hands and knees, he crawled across to the other man.

  “Corwin?” Darius shook with fear and with rage as he laid his hand on Corwin’s sculpted chest. After an agonizing moment in which he could sense nothing but the pounding of his own heart, Darius felt Corwin’s breath rise and fall. The movement was far too slow, but at least it was steady.

  Darius had to grit his teeth together to keep from roaring into the darkness. There was no time for such gestures. Corwin was cold and damp to the touch. If nothing else, he was in danger of taking a severe chill.

  Darius looked to Viscount Stokley’s house. They had not wanted to use it except in case of emergency, but this certainly qualified. Swiftly, he gathered Corwin and the quilts into his arms and carried him to the kitchen door. Darius murmured a spell and kicked hard. The door opened, and he didn’t really care to which force it had yielded.

  He carried Corwin down the steps into the dark kitchen. The fire was dead in the hearth and there was no fuel, but at least they were out of the damp. Darius laid Corwin by the hearth, bunching the quilts underneath his head for a pillow.