Since I moved this to the M rated stories, I added a small section to justify the move.

Past and Present

Adam had left a lamp on a low wick and Sibella turned it up to ready for bed; life out here was such a hardship. Without a connection to a gasworks, something that was newly being considered by the Virginia City Council, they couldn't yet have gas lights or a gas stove and heat, at least not yet. But the house was being built with gas piping for when that time came. Until then, oil lamps would have to do and Mrs. George would have to cook and bake on a wood stove. Alan had told Sibella he didn't expect her to be living like a barbarian and what was he to expect at the hotel then—to have to sit on the window sill, stick his ass out and shit into an alley? And did she have to wash with a soapy cloth and a basin of water like a whore washing off a customer? Sibella assured Alan things weren't that bad and told him about the bathhouse off the kitchen and the cistern which produced hot water for the house and the pump providing cold water for the spigots; Adam was very clever and when he had showed her drawings of all that went on under her very feet, the maze of pipes, well, she was astounded; he even spoke about a thing called electricity that in the near future, could be sent to houses the way telegraph lines carried messages, and that it would power homes and businesses alike.

Sibella placed the sapphire pieces back into their box, admiring them; they glowed even in the low light. Perhaps Adam was right about the safe deposit box. Besides, if she wore the pieces anywhere, it might tempt a thief; better they be locked up although she would prefer they were in the drop safe behind the landscape on the wall between the dining room and kitchen. Wetting a flannel, Sibella wiped the rouge from her cheeks and lips and then the kohl from her eyes. She looked at herself in the vanity mirror and decided she looked tired and pale. What would she look like in ten, fifteen years, especially if she gave birth to children, a lot of children? Would Adam still desire her after she aged or became fat? Sibella had to admit she really didn't know her husband well as they married so quickly. He was older than she but somehow, men didn't seem to age at the same rate as women. Ben Cartwright was still a handsome, virile man whom the women at church admired. Even Mrs. George had once remarked how very handsome Ben Cartwright was and it gave Sibella the idea to match up the widowed housekeeper and her father-in-law.

Taking down her hair, Sibella glanced at Adam; he was asleep on his side. Then she thought about Thorne Culhane and how life with him might have been had they married. And how did Thorne look after almost five years? Still as handsome and dashing? Tomorrow, would all their feelings rush back when they saw each other? "It doesn't matter," she said to herself, choosing not to braid her hair for the night. She quickly removed her petticoats and chemise and slipped on her nightgown, turned down the lamp and slid under the covers. She should tell Adam about her plans now, about Thorne, before she lost her courage and it was quickly dissipating.

"Adam," she said, sitting up. "Adam!" This time, louder. He still slept so Sibella pushed his shoulder. He quickly wakened, half sitting.

"What? What's wrong?" His dark hair partially fell over his forehead and he looked boyish in the dim light, touching her heart. He was the only person who could do that with just a glance or look. Was that love?

"I just…" Her courage failed; she didn't want a row tonight, at least not about Thorne. But maybe if she put him on the defensive… "Why were you so rude to Alan tonight?"

Now he sat up, annoyed. "You woke me up to ask me that? I thought I was pretty welcoming so I have no idea what you're talking about."

She had woken the "sleeping bear" as Alan had dubbed Adam and now, she regretted it. "Well, I mean you barely spoke to him, came to bed early and now, well, I thought you liked Alan."

He lay back down with a heavy sigh. "Sibella, this is ridiculous. But if you insist, let me ask you something-why are you friends with Alan?"

"Well, because…because I can talk with Alan about anything. We've been friends since we were children. And he doesn't think I'm awful if I admit to thinking or doing something terrible. He doesn't judge me."

"Sibella, I don't dislike Alan, but he is a whore." Sibella protested and Adam put up one hand to stop her. "I've known plenty of men like Alan, plenty of women too, and people like Alan will sell their very souls for what they desire whether it be money, power or sex. They all have a price, some higher than others."

Sibella was furious. How could Adam say such things about Alan? And what women had he known that he could make such a pronouncement? "Are you talking about the woman you kept in Carson City or the woman you almost married, the one you originally designed this house for? They both must have had a price?" She couldn't quite see his face which was a problem as the subtleties of expression always told her much, a raised brow, an even stare or a half smile. But answering her, his voice was flat, controlled; he was suppressing anger.

"Yes, they both did. But unfortunately, their prices were too high."

Sibella hesitated; she knew she shouldn't have started this argument as she didn't yet know when to tread softly. "And I suppose you think you're so morally superior! I'm sure you, like everyone else, has a price!"

"Of course, I do. So do you. After all, isn't your stance that marriage is nothing short of prostitution, that a woman sells her body to her husband in exchange for support and protection? Is that why you married me?" Adam watched Sibella, waiting as she seemed confused. And she was.

"Well…I have my own money and…" Sibella was suddenly overwhelmed by just how physically imposing Adam was, how the broadness of his shoulders blocked the moonlight from the window; should he desire, he could reach out and with one hand, throttle her. And when he would take her, when she was basically trapped under him, she was at his mercy. But that was part of the attraction, similar to riding a horse and controlling all that explosive power between her legs. She trembled, considering what to say next. "Do you have a price, Adam? For what amount can you be bought?"

He leaned in closer. "I thought you already knew I could be bought by a woman with a pair of dark blue eyes, a sweet ass and the face of an angel. For being able to have her in my bed, to have her pleasure me with that rosy mouth and to let me fuck her, I would sell my very soul to the devil himself."

A silence fell between them. Sibella's breathing became ragged as she felt herself become wet, smelled Adam's skin and sensed his deep voice vibrate to her very core. What had she wrought? Adam moved closer and slipped one arm about her waist, pulling her to him and his mouth covered hers while his other hand, slipped under her gown, raising it over her thighs. Their kiss broke off and like an obedient child, Sibella raised her arms while Adam slipped her gown off over her head and tossed it to the foot of the bed.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," he whispered in her ear. Adam bent his head and sucked one pink nipple into his mouth. Sibella closed her eyes to better enjoy his attentions as she was gently laid down while he moved over her, using one knee to separate her legs. Sibella reached down and guided him, arching her neck at the initial resistance but then, as always, her body gave way, allowing him inside. And any thoughts of Thorne Culhane or any other man deserted her completely as she wrapped her legs about Adam's waist and gave herself to him.