Marissa Day (22 page)

Miranda leaned close over Darius’s cock. His musky scent was intoxicating. Darius’s hand brushed her hair, her temple and her cheek.

“Suck me, Miranda,” said Darius. “Let me feel your mouth around me.”

She brushed her lips against Darius’s hot, blunt tip. It felt strange and magnificent at once.

“You’re
very
big,” she murmured.

“Very big,” agreed Corwin with a chuckle. He took his hand from hers and cupped her breast, kneading her. “Take him, Miranda. Enjoy him.”

She hesitated no longer, but opened her mouth and took Darius in. He was hard and huge, and tantalizing against her tongue. The sensation of his velvety cock sliding deeper into her mouth sent pleasure and desire shooting through her veins. Curious, she licked at him, and he moaned and arched his hips. She squeezed her lips around him; she slid her head up and down, made her tongue busy with the delightful and intriguing contours of him.

“Oh, gods,” he gasped. “Oh, Miranda, that’s so good.”

“Yes.” Corwin’s hand pressed between her thighs, up into her dripping folds. “Oh, Miranda, I like watching you suck him.”

Corwin’s fingers were inside her, thrusting and stroking. Darius’s cock filled her mouth and any fear she might have had about his size vanished. She wanted nothing but to lick and suck his cock, to feel him throbbing against her tongue and lips.

“I can’t stand it. I must have you.”

Corwin drew his fingers swiftly out of her sheath and her suddenly empty pussy clenched. She whimpered, but she couldn’t pull herself away from Darius’s mesmerizing cock. She kissed it, grazed her teeth against it, and every groan he gave pulled her deeper and closer to the new mystery of desire and sensuality.

Corwin was moving behind her, moving her. His hands were on her hips and he raised her up higher on her knees. She felt him at her entrance, his hands splayed across her hips.

With a single motion, Corwin’s cock was inside her, the power of his thrust rocking her forward, forcing Darius’s shaft as far into her mouth as Corwin’s was inside her pussy. She groaned and clamped her lips tight around Darius.

It was amazing, one hard cock in her mouth, one in her pussy. Their four hands stroked her; they caressed her thighs, her head, her breasts and her clit, urging her on, opening her body to all the desire that flooded her so she could take them both deeper inside. Darius groaned and grasped her shoulders, and she dug her fingers into his thighs, urging him to move. She wanted to feel him gliding against her tongue while her hips writhed hard against Corwin, making his cock caress her hot sheath.

“Yes, Miranda.” Corwin’s fingers found her clit again, and circled there, raising fiery pleasure. “Take him hard; take him deep. We’re going to make you come, Miranda.” He stroked her clit harder as he thrust. “We’re going to make you come so hard with my cock in your pussy and his in your mouth.”

Miranda groaned around Darius’s cock and he thrust forward, almost to the back of her throat, and as he did, Corwin pressed down against her clit. The twin sensations were maddening and she only wanted more. She gripped Darius’s ass, and licked and sucked and moaned.

Conscious thought fled. There was only pure, sensual pleasure. Only the fascination of Darius’s cock filling her mouth, and Corwin’s inside her sheath. As Corwin drove himself into her, fucking her with his luscious, hard cock, the rhythm caused her to fuck Darius with her mouth and tongue.

“Oh, yes, Miranda. Your mouth feels so good!” Darius speared his fingers into her hair. “Fuck her, Corwin. Fuck her hard!”

Corwin’s free hand ran up the crack of her ass until he pressed his thumb against the tight hole there as he obeyed Darius’s frantic order and drove himself into her again and again. Slowly, their wild motions worked his thumb into her, stretching her, penetrating her. It hurt, but feeling him inside her in this new way brought a pleasure far deeper than the pain. All at once, she imagined his cock not in her sheath but in
there
. She groaned. She couldn’t hold it all; it was too much. Too much luscious, luxurious sensuality, too much delicious skin and heat, too much glorious motion, fast and hard and faster yet.

All at once Corwin roared. His climax drove him into her; into her pussy, into her anus, and Miranda tumbled over the edge into a whirlwind of ecstasy, screaming her pleasure against Darius’s cock. Darius cried out wordlessly and thrust to the back of her throat, and she was caught between the two climaxes, riding them both, crying, flying, floating, falling into their arms, into their eyes and mouths and tender love.

When Corwin awoke amid a nest of blankets and discarded clothing on his library carpet, warmth suffused him as he realized he was also still tangled in a luxurious embrace with Miranda and Darius. It felt ... right to wake up with them both. Right in a way nothing else ever had.

Corwin was generous with his feelings. “Profligate,” Darius called it, but Corwin had always laughed at him. He enjoyed sex, and he enjoyed taking lovers. Darius had been his rock and anchor for many years, but they had both understood that Corwin needed women as well; with Darius and without him, Catalysts and ordinary humans. Corwin was not a complete libertine, however. He had never seduced an innocent, never sought sex where he did not also feel tenderness, and he always did his best to leave no hard feelings behind.

Is one of you going to marry me?
Miranda had asked. This was not something Corwin had contemplated before. Love her, yes. Provide for her, certainly. Even if Smith didn’t demand that, Corwin’s sense of honor did. But marry? He had never truly considered taking a wife. Before this, marriage would have meant either deceiving the woman or breaking with Darius.

But now things were different. Being so much a creature of emotions, Corwin was aware that Miranda was different from the others he had pursued. When he looked at her, something deeper stirred within him. This was not mere tenderness, or even the heat of infatuation he might feel for a new lover. Before meeting her, his heart had moved this way only when he looked at Darius.

Was it possible he had found a woman to complete him? To hold that other side of him that had always remained restless even with Darius’s body and heart completely his?

If it’s true, how will Darius take it?
Darius accepted Miranda and shared in Corwin’s vow to protect her. He enjoyed her in their bed—enjoyed her a great deal if last night was any indication. More importantly, Darius now saw Miranda as a trusted comrade in their fight.

But Darius felt deeply, and he held those he loved close. Could he really be open to bringing another heart into the already complex relationship he shared with Corwin? Would he want to?

A flash of white caught Corwin’s eye. A freshly sealed letter lay on the table beside the fire. Carefully, he extricated himself from his lovers’ embrace. Miranda stirred restlessly, but Darius pulled her closer in his sleep and she sighed and stilled. Corwin smiled and tucked the blankets around them both before he padded to the table and opened Smith’s letter. His eyes swept across the boldly written words.

“Damnation!” Corwin crumpled the paper in his fist.

“What!” Darius cried behind him.

“Smith says we’ve lost another Catalyst.” Corwin held the letter toward Darius. “And Andrews is dead.”

“Andrews!” Darius leapt to his feet and snatched the message from Corwin. “He was one of our senior ...”

“He was found in Hyde Park this morning.” Corwin dropped into the nearest chair and scrubbed his palms against his face. “The back of his head was bashed in.”

“Gods,” breathed Darius. “And the Catalyst?”

“Malcolm Hale. Last we knew he was with Andrews. Now ... he’s gone. Like the others.”

“Malcolm Hale?” repeated Miranda as she gathered the sheet around her shoulder. “I know him. He ...” She turned pale and covered her mouth.

“What is it, Miranda?” asked Darius sharply.

“He courted me once,” she whispered. “But then Mother decided she fancied him.” She waved her hand vaguely. “It didn’t last. He wasn’t rich enough.”

So that’s it.
Corwin knew Miranda’s heart had been broken at least once before. Suppressing a curse against the colossal selfishness of Daphne Quicke, Corwin crossed to Miranda and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Miranda.”

But Miranda just shook her head. “It was a long time ago. You say Malcolm is a Catalyst?”

Darius folded the letter, creasing it sharply. “Yes. Andrews was also looking into the Thayer guest list, with Malcolm’s help.” He paused, frowning. “They’re stepping up the attacks.”

“The summer solstice is coming,” said Corwin. “They may have to.”

Darius looked sharply at him. “What are you saying?”

Nothing I want to believe. But we must consider it.
“I’m saying what if our Lady Thayer is preparing a formal sacrifice?”

“What is a formal sacrifice?” asked Miranda.

A door in the darkness. A light so bright it cuts into your mind. A voice you cannot ignore saying, “Come with me and you shall have all you could desire.”
Corwin shook his head. Now was not the time to relive that particular nightmare. “It is a way for a mortal Sorcerer to prove their loyalty to the Fae court. They must give the Queen a gift of lives, preferably either of mortal children or Catalysts.”

“Or Sorcerers,” added Darius softly. Corwin didn’t look at him. He had to control his thoughts before Miranda sensed them.

But Miranda, it seemed, was too distracted to notice. “But ... you said the Fae are magical beings. What would they need with a ... person who can channel magic?”

Corwin shot a sideways glance at Darius. He had been hoping to put off this particular discussion a little longer, but now there was no choice. “Miranda, do you remember how you felt after you first drained my magic from me?”

She turned her face away. “Yes.”

“Was it good?”

“For a while.” She plucked restlessly at the blankets around her shoulders. “But then I thought I was going to die.”

“Just so.” Corwin nodded. “But what if someone had come to you in your pain and said they could make you feel wonderful again? What would you have done?”

She swallowed, and Corwin watched the play of uncomfortable emotions on her face. “I would have begged for it,” she admitted.

“No matter who was offering to give you your relief? Or at what price?”

“I might have.”

Darius plucked up his abandoned snifter and downed the remaining brandy. “The Fae know this is what the absorption of magic does to Catalysts when they have no Sorcerer to help channel it, and they find it highly amusing.” He gazed into the empty glass, and Corwin could see the effort it was taking for him to speak dispassionately. “This makes them highly prized playthings in the Fae court. The Fae fill them with magic and watch them go through the throes of ecstasy and pain.”

“A gift of a dozen Catalysts would surely be acceptable to the Fae.” Corwin clenched his fist against his thigh. “All to be delivered at the solstice. Very neat.”

“Is that why Lady Thayer invited me to the party? To add to their ... offering?”

Corwin ran his finger down Miranda’s jawline, feeling its smooth perfection. “Their crowning jewel,” he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “And as a bonus, she made sure your mother would be watching you the whole time, making it impossible for you to move freely.”

Darius drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “We’ll have to find some way around her. We need you at that party to get us inside.”

“You were able to get inside her house once before without me,” she reminded them, her voice taut, and Corwin felt her shoulders tense under his hand.

Oh, Miranda, have we reached your limits?
“Yes,” agreed Corwin. “But we we were only permitted entry so Lady Thayer could flush us, and you, out into the open. We’re all marked now, so I doubt we’ll be so cavalierly admitted into the Thayers’ home a second time.”

“So what do we do?” asked Miranda softly. “We cannot stay away, and if we go, we’ll be walking into their trap.”

Corwin stared at the fire. He hated this feeling of being hemmed in. He hated the fact that he had been so careless as to allow a common footpad to ambush him and deliver him to his enemies. As a strategy it was brilliant. Lady Thayer was robbing London of its Catalysts without casting a single spell to attract attention. At this point they didn’t even know if she was Sorcerer or Catalyst herself, because she’d left them no clues. She simply brought her targets to her parties, flattered them and befriended them. Then, when they trusted her, she had them discreetly removed.

And not one of Smith’s people had seen it because, despite their facility with lockpicks and other toys, not one of them truly thought such a great and terrible feat could be accomplished without strong and frequent spell casting.