Sacrifice (Fashionably Impure Book 3) (20 page)

She felt her eyes widen in surprise. “Adrian?”

He slid his hands down her back, down to her bottom.
“You once said that you would show me your skills at riding a man to pleasure.”

“So I did,” she said, remembering also the shame of
his rejection.

“And you promised me that you were quite good at it.”

“Yes, I did,” she said, warming now.

“Well, why don’t you prove it? Now.”

Chapter
Fourteen

Miranda stared down into Adrian’s handsome face. He
was so open to her now, his gaze shining with love. She couldn’t help returning
his smile with a wide, impudent grin.

“Are you sure, Adrian?”

“I have said so, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but can you really just lie there and allow me
to take the reins?”

“Do you want to tie my hands?”

She laughed, more womanly and wicked this time. “I
admit, I’d be sorely tempted.”

“I will be good. I promise not to attempt and take
control.”

She reached and traced a fingertip over the line of
his sensual mouth testing him. His lips hardened, she could tell it was a sore
trial for him to allow her the liberty to do that. But he did not attempt to
stop her. She ran her hands down his chest. His extreme leanness made every
sinew more pronounced. “But what will the consequences be, should you fail to
control yourself?”

“I can control myself just fine,” he said, an
indignant light coming into his gaze.

“But,” she insisted. “What if you cannot?”

“Then I shall have to go without… for two weeks.”

She gave his chest a light smack with her palms.
“Then I shall have to go without too.”

He shook his head. “No, you won’t, not completely.”

“Oh.” Comprehending his meaning, she laughed again.
“All right then, I accept.”

She gripped his hips with her thighs and rubbed her
mons against him. His erection throbbed against her and a thrill shot through
her.

Oh yes, she remembered this. The headiness of having
a man at her mercy. His pleasure completely in her hands. Yes, she had just
pleasured Adrian last night, with her mouth. He’d been at her mercy then, but
she’d been new at that. Unsure.

She was not at all uncertain at this version of lovemaking.
Nor was she hesitant to take the reins and run with them. She moved her pelvis
in a circle, rubbing him, teasing him.

He leaked and throbbed against her.

“You like that?” she asked, a wicked tone in her
voice.

“Aye, I like that.”

She lifted herself and wrapped her hand around his
thick, hard length. “What a prize I have managed to earn for myself.”

“Indeed, my lady.”

The feel of his magnificent organ in her hand was
driving her mad with anticipation. Her inner walls clenched hungrily. She just
couldn’t wait. She sheathed him then held herself there, feeling the broad head
of his cock within her just that little bit.

“Miranda.“ He groaned and reached to grasp her hip.

“No.”

“What?” he said.

“No,” she repeated. “You promised, remember?”

“Oh.” He removed his hands.

She lowered herself, slowly, taking him in inch by
glorious inch.

Oh, oh, dear God. Oh. She silently mouthed the words.

She had forgotten how good a man felt from this
angle, with her cunny sliding down on him, taking him as she would. At her own
pace.

She had enjoyed this with Carrville, but only to a
degree. He had never aroused her as Adrian did. He had never brought her to
climax.

But doing this with Adrian was the most incredible
bliss. She moved with aching leisure, dragging the sensations out for both of
them. But he looked so beautiful, so sensual beneath her. He felt so wonderful
inside her, that she couldn’t hold back for long.

Soon she was thrusting her pelvis hard, moving on him
with daring speed, her breasts bouncing and bouncing.

He sat up half way and captured her breasts, cupping
them, squeezing them.

That only increased her pleasure, nay, it drove her
to a frenzy of riding him, a wanton display of hunger that she never imagined
herself capable of.

The climax came on her so intense, giving her such
strong spasms of delight that she cried out. Maybe she shouted?

“Now, now,” she gasped, “Find your pleasure…” It was
all she could manage as she collapsed against his chest.

He took hold of her hips and made several hard, quick
upward thrusts. Then his body shook and he spilled his seed inside of her.

“God, Miranda, God.” He spoke between panting
breaths.

“What?” she asked, hugging him, wishing there were
words adequate enough to express the elation surging through her.

And the love.

“I think I just discovered my new favorite past
time.”

She closed her eyes and bit her lip, filled with too
much emotion. She didn’t think she could bear it. She would explode with it,
surely.

He rolled her until she was on her back, his eyes
glowing like brilliant sapphires with his love. He smoothed her sweat-damp hair
off her face. “What could I ever do or say that would—that could possibly
convey my love for you?”

Seriousness filled her heart. “You could promise me
that you will not call Heathford out.”

His look went grim. “He terrorized you. He hurt you.”

“That was years ago.”

“He just repeated that terror yesterday.”

“Oh my love, you are safe and nothing else matters
now.” She reached up and put her hand to his cheek.

But he was back in his fiercer mode now. He flinched
from her touch. “No man is going to act like that against you and get away with
it.”

“Please do not do this to me… to us again.”

“I cannot help what has happened. But I also cannot
allow it to slide without being answered.”

“And I cannot bear the worry and the fear. Not again.
You cannot put me through that, Adrian. You cannot risk dying. What would Davey
and I do, especially now, when the shadow of scandal darkens us no matter where
we go? You must put your nobleman’s pride aside. You must put your love for me
and for Davey, first.”

“My God, how you accuse me.”

“My lord, you know that I speak the truth. We have
before us a chance to have a new start, a place of equal footing where we can
love each other freely and create something of real meaning together.”

He seemed to freeze, to pause. She saw the haze of
rage fading from his visage. “You mean the Canadian factory?”

“Yes, I need you alive and whole to help me with
that. We will build it together. It'll be a new source of pride and accomplishment
for both of us—something that is not connected or tainted with either of our
pasts. It will be something of our own.”

“You make my desire to make Heathford pay sound so
reckless.”

“It is. You need to just spend time before our voyage
to Canada, regaining your strength. We need you to be whole and well for this
venture.”

He exhaled loudly then rolled from the bed and went
to the washstand. He ran his hands over his day’s growth of stubble. Then he
turned back to her. “Miranda, you’re asking me to allow a man to get away with
having abused my wife.”

“I am. But if you truly love me, you will do it.”

Chapter Fifteen

Adrian watched Davey chewing and frowning as he
digested the news that they would be leaving England and soon. What cost or
benefits would such a forced move bring to his younger son? He prayed that the
benefits outweighed the costs.

Close to noon, Miranda and Adrian had joined Davey
for breakfast. They found him sitting at the table, happily sketching the cat
that lay curled up near the hearth.

Davey had eaten two hours before, when he’d first
come downstairs. But he gladly accepted a second serving of griddlecakes.

Adrian had developed a taste for these in America,
however he far preferred them made with fine-ground cornmeal, the way he’d had
them at the Sexton household. Somehow wheat flour did not do them justice. But
Miranda and Davey didn’t seem to mind them, each drizzling them with copious
amounts of honey and butter, neither aware that maple syrup was far superior.

Davey swallowed his mouthful. “But Papa, what about
Brentwood?”

“You and I shall go and visit Brentwood later today.”
Adrian made a grim expression. “Brentwood is the heir. He cannot leave England.
And from all my recent communications with him, I doubt that he wishes to.”

Davey looked sad but he nodded. “I miss him. When I
go to see him, he is never happy with me.”

“Nor with me, Davey. We must be patient with him.”

Adrian wouldn’t even consider allowing Davey to stay
behind with Brentwood. Brentwood was a solitary, emotionally controlled young
man. He was happy with his studies. He was possessed of a self-sufficiency that
the more sensitive Davey didn’t have. Davey needed his parents. He needed close
guidance and the type of daily emotional nurturing that had seemed to offend Brentwood
in times past. Brentwood was much like his great uncle in temperament and
would, Adrian prayed, deal just fine with that stuffy old gentleman.

Davey’s sad expression eased and the sparkle returned
to his eyes. He grinned. “I am glad that you are back with Mama and me.”

Adrian caught Miranda’s eye and shared an amused
glance with her. “I am glad too, Davey. We are family and shouldn’t be parted.”

“Mama smiles more when you are.”

It was odd, how Davey’s words caught him unawares,
touching him in places that had up until now remained numb. A lump formed in
his throat. His eyes burned suspiciously.

“I smile more too,” Davey said, “But one would notice
it more in Mama.”

“Women are like that, Davey.”

Adrian glanced at Miranda once again, noticing how
bright her red hair was in the sunlight that streamed in the window. He
noticed, all over again, how utterly lovely she was. All the more now without
her cosmetics and hair dyes and glittering bodices.

Though, he wouldn’t mind seeing her gorgeous breasts
displayed in such a bodice at special events, like Christmas.

Or any night in their bedchamber.

“Papa, why are women like that?”

Adrian chuckled softly, but it was hard with that
lump in his throat. “Because they are emotionally responsive, they require care
and consideration from us men for we are apt to become callous at times.”

Davey’s look became so serious, contemplating this
statement that Adrian might have been amused. At any other moment he would have
been amused.

But not now.

His mind and heart were consumed with more pressing
matters.

“Davey, you must finish your meal then go and help
your nurse pack your things. We’ll be leaving England soon.

Davey’s eyes went wide. One could easily see the mix
of apprehension and excitement rising within him. “How soon?”

“As soon as I can possibly arrange it.”

“But you said that you had business to transact,
first, my lord,” Miranda said, with an edge in her voice.

He reached and took her hand. “No, my love. That
business, though it might enrage me still, is not what matters most now. What
matters most is that we are together and stay together. You and I have nothing
left here in England. Our destiny lies in that new beginning in Canada.”

“Oh my lord, thank you.” Tears made her eyes glossy.
“Thank you.”

She was thanking him for choosing her over his pride?
Thanking him for being the first among his father and grandfather and
great-grandfather in choosing happiness and responsibility in his life rather
than debauchery, self-destruction and death.

“Davey, go on now and find your nurse and share our
news with her,” he said, without breaking eye contract with Miranda.

When his son had left, Adrian reached for Miranda and
pulled her into his lap, more gracefully than he had the night before, in dark,
when they had both still been held captive by their own demons. Last night, he
had been so set on convincing himself that he no longer wished to be bound up
in such a passionate, all consuming love.

But when she had broken, there in his arms, and
shared all her demons with him, confessed all her sins and weaknesses, he had
realized, for the second time, how vulnerable she really was beneath her
strong, proud exterior. He had realized how much she needed him.

And even more than that, he had realized how much he
needed her to need him.

Now he knew that no matter how much pain it might
bring in the future, he wanted this mad, passionate love that they shared. This
love that consumed him. Let him be consumed.

She looked up at him and smiled. “I thought that you
said Davey should see how a husband and wife interact when they are in love?”

“Some moments are meant to be just for us.” He cupped
her face. “I love you, now more than I ever have.”

“You said last night that you thought such a
turbulent love was not good for either of us.”

“I was wrong. We need each other. I love you more now
because I have accepted that neither of
 
us can escape the pain that our love may bring us. We need each other
and no amount of your pride,
 
my
arrogance,
 
or our individual
self-protections, can change that. We are stronger towards the world when we
are vulnerable with each other and share all our pain and anger. We need to
occasionally bleed off the poisons so that we may feel the joy in each other.”

“I have always loved that about you,” she said, her
eyes glowing.

“What?”

“That you are ultimately so wise.”

“Any wisdom I have found has come through loving you,
my darling.” He stroked her hair and joy filled him.

Joy and pain, going around in circles. This was what
life was meant to be. And he wanted to share it all with no one else but her.
His sacrifice had proved to be his salvation.