A Most Demanding Mistress (Fashionably Impure Book 2) (4 page)

He released his breath.

She worked him, skilled, practiced strokes.

No woman had ever touched him with unerring skill and
timing.

She had told him that after the matter of her virginity had
been eliminated, that her aunt, Cassandra Jones and another older courtesan had
spent literally hours, teaching her how to do this, using a Venetian glass
phallus to demonstrate. And then later she had been required to practice on a
real man, her aunt’s servant. When this man had learned of Miranda’s extreme
distaste for the act of oral pleasuring, he had lied to Cassandra Jones about
Miranda’s progress in learning the finer points of sexual skills.
 
The soft-hearted servant had protected
Miranda.

Despite the man’s obvious kindness, the recollection was
most unwelcome to Adrian, at this moment, and it sent another thread of cold
unease wounding through him.

But it couldn’t extinguish the fire of his arousal.

Not when she was touching him like that.

Not when she was smiling at him like that.

“
I
wanted to feel you, inside me, filling me, driving me to that bliss only you
had shown me.”

Her voice was silken, seductive.

Practiced.

Yet, her eyes still shone with sincere need.

She was a sparkling, beautiful, seductive creature. Not an
earthly woman. No, her origins must surely be something more celestial. A
goddess trained in sexuality.

Did it matter when her skills only heightened his
anticipation, his pleasure?

Well, the hot desire surging in his blood made it hard to
think and that alone disturbed him the most.

He grasped her wrist. “God, Miranda.”

“
Will
you really deny me what I have wanted so desperately?” Her eyes glittered like
pale green jewels, shinning with not only desire, but with a force of will he’d
seen in no other woman’s gaze.

It struck him then that he had not misjudged her previously.

Not entirely.

She was fiercely determined to have those things she wanted
in her life.

She was a fighter.

She would fight, kick and claw and use her wiles, her
skills, all her sharp intellect to gain those things she wanted from life.

And one of the things she wanted was…

Him.

“
Christ.”
The word escaped him as the whole realization overcame him. He had not wanted
to take a new wife, even a wealthy one who could have instantly cured the
problem of his genteel poverty, because he had not wanted to complicate his
life with the demands of a wife again.

Yet, he had fallen so quickly, so hard for Miranda, he had
allowed his affection to soften the hard edges of his previous impression of
her.

He had not stopped to consider…

She caught her breath, a sharp, sudden sound that resounded
within the pit of his belly and sent a knife-like shaft of desire through his
loins. His erection throbbed within her grasp. A smile curved her generous,
blood-red mouth as she swept her eyes down. “Will you really—” she gazed up at
him through the veil of her lashes, her gaze burning with lust. “—deny me
this?”

She squeezed him, all the while burning him with her gaze.

He groaned. His cock leaked profusely.

He tightened his grasp on her wrist, to keep her from
working him again. A desperate attempt to maintain what was left of his will.

“
I
am your mistress now, am I not?”

“
Yes.”

“
I
am to give you all my loyalty?”

“
Loyalty,
yes.” He forced the words out past his tensed jaw.

“
Hmmm,”
she replied.

“
Obedience
to my will,” he hastened to add.

Since they were suddenly negotiating terms…

“
Obedience
to your will?” She laughed, softly this time. “My, those are some strong words,
my lord.”

“
You
object?”

“
I
am not sure. What do you offer in return?”

“
I
will protect and provide for your every need and want, as best my fortunes
allow.” Hearing himself speak these words caused his heart to squeeze, even as
her soft, warm little hand squeezed his erection. A rush of emotion rose to the
fore. “Always, my love, I shall always protect and provide for you, with my
dying breath.”

“
My
every need and want?”

“
It
is a mistress’ right.”

“
Then
I claim this as my right.” She gave him a firmer squeeze. “I demand my
satisfaction, on this, our first, night as protector and mistress, as my
right.”

Chapter
Three

Adrian started at Miranda, shocked, for she
was bold even for a courtesan. Her lush, blood-red mouth twitched and her eyes
glimmered with mirth.

God.

She was toying with him.

Goading him.

It ought to have offended him. In the
not-so-distant past, it certainly would have angered him.

But now—Oh, God, now…

Such an exhilarating rush of sensation and
emotions seized him that he couldn’t resist their pull.

He took her by the wrists and pulled her
hand off his flesh. He moved on top of her, pushing her down to the settee as
he did so.

She gazed up into his face with laughing
eyes, beautiful eyes.

He pulled her hands over her head.

“Oh!” Laughter rang in her voice.

“Make demands of me, will you?”

She arched her hips against his straining
loins. “Will you fulfill me? Dare you
try
?”

She was teasing in earnest now. What a woman
she was!

“God…” He captured her wrists with one hand
and then he reached to touch between her legs

He thrust into her, propelling himself
almost savagely, until he was seated within her, cods deep.

“Yes!” she shrieked softly, clutching his
shoulders. “Oh God, yes,” she said between panting breaths.

“Miranda.” Her name was torn from him as the
sensation of being inside her slick heat, feeling her inner walls clench around
him tightly, overwhelmed him. He’d never felt so hard.

She writhed beneath him, her lush form like
a luxury against him. He had to shake himself, mentally, to make sure he wasn’t
dreaming.

He had dreamed of her so many nights, like
this.

Had longed for her.

But, no, he wasn’t dreaming. She was really
here. And she was warm and wet and willing…

He pulled back, all the way out of her.

She whimpered, lifting her hips, clutching
at his shoulders.

He thrust back into her with power and
force, experiencing the feel of her hot slickness sucking him in all over
again.

She cried out softly, her intimate flesh
squeezing his.

He rocked his hips, pressing the head of his
cock against the mouth of her womb.

She cried out again and dug her fingers into
his shoulders. The sharp bite of her nails sent wild, coursing arousal through
him. His erection, already seeming impossibly hard, huge, swelled and
lengthened.

There was a sense of it being a first.

The first time he’d ever made love to a
woman he was actually in love with.

“Oh, God…” she said, softly, as she arched
her hips against his.

He rocked against her.

“Ah!”

He could feel her getting wetter. “Is that
what you need, my darling?”

“No, no…” She thrashed her head. “I need
more
.
More of you.”

“God…” He groaned the word and thrust into
her. “Like that, my love?”

“Yes, yes!” she cried, grasping his shoulder
and arching into his thrusts, making him aware, all over again, how strong and
fit her deliciously and deceptively soft, supple feminine body really was. His
hunger, his need grew. He thrust into her, faster, harder and yet, he couldn’t
get deep enough, couldn’t get close enough.

He slammed his body into hers over and over.

She was grasping and clawing at his
shoulder, his back, her body meeting his thrust for thrust. Her moans became
shrieks of joy, her flesh rippling over his in a powerful orgasm.

He’d meant to give her more than one orgasm
but her cunny milked him too enticingly and with a groan, he pulled out of her
and an explosion of pleasure tore through him and his cock released jets of
come all over her stomach—powerful jets of ecstasy and satisfaction that left
him breathless.

Miranda lay on her side, aware of Adrian’s
cock, throbbing inside her, of his hand resting heavily upon the side of her
hip, of his regular, deep breathing— it all wove in and out of her dreams.

He murmured then flexed his pelvis, moving
within her ever so slightly.

He put his lips to her nape. “Miranda…”

His tone told that he was still half-asleep.

At least part of him was.

His cock grew harder, his girth increasing,
stretching, throbbing against her inner walls. She sighed and arched herself
backwards, pressing her buttocks to his lower abdomen.

He gave a sleepy groan and tightened his
hold on her hip. “I thought that I was dreaming.”

“Me, too,” she admitted. “I was afraid to
move. I was afraid I would wake and find myself alone.”

“Don’t move then. Don’t wake up. I shall
happily be your dream lover.” He rolled his hips. The slow, easy motion teased
her and her flesh clenched.

He groaned, deeper this time, and he thrust
more firmly. Soft, fuzzy edges of sleepiness still surrounded her, like a warm
blanket. A gentle, slow building of pleasure. Pleasure so tender, that when her
climax came, it was almost unbearably sweet. She kissed his cheek, his brisk
stubble prickling her lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she chanted,
even as sleep reclaimed her.

Once or twice, Miranda awoke to the
awareness of Adrian’s arm, a tight grip around her waist. His deep, even breathing
lulled her. Listening to the steady rattle of carriage wheels on the paving
stones on the street outside, listening to the world wake up, she snuggled back
down under the coverlet, feeling secure and happy like she never had before in
her life and she drifted to back to sleep.

A firm hold on her hip, the touch of lips to
her nape awoke her. “God, you’re here, really here.”

Adrian's tone was urgent yet harsh in a way
that told her so much more.

“Yes, I am still here,” she whispered, as
though she must speak gently, lest it might prove to be a dream.

She moved to turn and face him. He tightened
his hold on her hip, put his leg over hers, locking her into place.

“I dreamed that you had gone,” he said then
he put his face into the curve of her neck. “I dreamed that I said something
thoughtless and you left.”

His words settled between uneasily, for the
memory of his former disdain for her was yet too fresh.

“The whole time after you left Applewaite, until
last evening, I was in an agony of longing for you.” His breath caressed her
neck.

His unshaven face prickled her as he put his
cheek against hers. “Words cannot express my joy to have you here. It is, I
believe, the greatest joy of my life.”

“And to think, due to my own senseless
prejudice, I might have missed this joy. And even more than that, I might have
missed the chance to protect you against Froster, Against Winterton, against it
all.”

“Forgive me for my senselessness, for my
disdain. Forgive me and open your heart to me and I promise I shall work my
whole life at making your happiness an assurance.”

They sent the day and into the late
afternoon, sleeping and making love. His servants brought a huge meal up to his
bedchamber. Miranda’s hunger shocked her and she ate greedily of the roasted
beef, fresh bread, soft cheese and fruit. She drank a good deal more wine than
she normally did, out of happiness. For she wasn’t used to this kind of
head-spinning, giddy happiness.

But Adrian said that he liked the taste of
it on her mouth. He had taken the glass from her hand then taken her by the
wrists, pressed her down to the bed with the weight of his body above hers and
holding her wrists to the downy feather bed. His kisses made her even dizzier
than the wine…

He lifted his head, finally when
breathlessness caused her to press against his chest. She laughed, not the
affected, womanly laugh she had been taught to use to seduce men. This laugh
was girlish. One that sounded unfamiliar to her ears.

He took her hand. “We should be seen around
town together. As soon as possible.”

How different a man was with a courtesan
than with a woman of his own class. When a nobleman started an affaire with a
noblewoman, he often went to great pains to lessen the amount of his public
contact with her.

Yet, when a man gained the favors of a
courtesan, he was so eager to show his prize about on his arm.

At least Carrville had been.

But she wouldn’t have suspected Adrian would
be the same way. Surely he didn’t think of her as a possession the same way
that Carrville had?

No. She didn’t want to believe it.

But a little coldness crept into her
stomach.

“I shall take you to the theatre tonight,”
he said.

There was a tone in his voice, underneath
the light playfulness that sent a curl of deeper, colder dread winding through
her. They shouldn’t go out. Not tonight. Not yet. They needed time to
strengthen their newfound bond.

His erection throbbed against her belly. His
body seemed to agree with her.

“I don’t think we need to go out tonight, do
we?” She nestled her face into the curve of his shoulder, letting her breath
caress the sensitive hollow beneath his ear.

“We should,” he said firmly. “People should
see us together.”

“What’s–” she leaned close and nipped his
earlobe “—the rush?”

She had expected a reaction to her
challenge.

But he merely lifted his head and stared
down at her with serious eyes. “Winterton.”

“Oh.”

This was a huge, heavy lead weight dropping
into her belly.

This was not what she had expected.

But she should have. Forgetting about
Winterton was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

“I will not have him believe even for a
second that you are without my protection,” Adrian said. He squeezed her hands.
“Come, let’s get up and I will dress and then I shall take you by your boarding
house so that you can change into fresh evening clothes.”