by Scott, Tarah
The door opened and the duchess entered. Bryant rose as her gaze moved from Sir Dunbar to him to Riana. Riana stood and a corner of the duchess’ mouth twisted upwards.
“You disappoint me, Riana.”
Bryant slid an arm around Riana’s waist and gave a deferential bow of his head. “Forgive her, Your Grace. I understand that I am not the husband you would have chosen.”
She snorted in derision. “The marriage is a farce.”
“Nay.” All eyes turned to Sir Dunbar. “The marriage is quite legal. I witnessed the vows.”
She turned her cold stare to him. “You would stand against me?”
Dunbar shrugged. “They are young and in love. Who is to stand in their way?”
Bryant detected the tremor in Riana’s body and gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“You expect me to believe such drivel?” the duchess said to Sir Dunbar.
His expression hardened. “Why not? You believed I was easily eliminated.”
She shifted her narrowed eyes to Riana. “What lies has the bitch been spreading?”
Dunbar smiled. “Nothing we did not already know.”
She shot him a withering look, then said to Bryant, “What do you want?”
“I have what I want.”
He shifted his gaze to Riana, who turned wary eyes on him. The need to take her in his arms and allay her fears rushed to the surface, but he dared not allow his expression to give away his thoughts. He returned his attention to the duchess.
“I expect no dowry. Riana is mine, all she knows is mine. I need nothing more.”
Riana’s head jerked up. Bryant kept his gaze locked with the duchess’ and silently willed his wife to remain quiet.
“You have made a bad bargain,” the duchess snapped. “She knows nothing. She owns nothing—will never own anything.”
“What do you mean?” Riana asked.
The duchess looked at her. “Did your mother not tell you? She is with child.”
Riana gasped.
“If she bears a son, Fyvie Castle will belong to him.” A malicious gleam entered her eyes when she addressed Bryant. “You will never lay claim to Ellis land.”
He smiled. “I am well-skilled at gaining land. I have no need of my wife’s property.”
She pursed her lips. “I cannot be certain this marriage was consummated.”
“Your men interrupted the…consummation,” Sir Dunbar said.
“I am told Riana had Sir Bryant’s cock in her mouth. That is not a true consummation.”
“As true as any other.” His mentor winked in Bryant’s direction. “If Your Grace will excuse me, I have business to attend to.”
She spared him a glance, then he bowed and turned.
Once the door had clicked shut behind Sir Dunbar, Bryant said, “I understand this is a shock, but you did not expect Riana to remain in your house forever? We will return home tonight, she, her sister, and I.”
“Her sister?” the duchess burst out.
Riana tensed, but Bryant gave her a warning squeeze. “You understand that Riana cannot bear to be parted from the girl.”
“She remains here. And as for Riana, my husband will decide if this marriage can be recognised.”
“I am sorry you were not present,” Bryant said. “Perhaps then you would be assured the marriage is legal. Father Vaughn will produce the marriage contract. Of course, Riana was previously married, so we can offer no proof the marriage has been consummated. As there were no witnesses…” He paused for affect.
Her brow furrowed then, as he’d hoped, comprehension lit her gaze. “I only want what is best for Riana,” she said.
He canted his head in agreement.
“If anyone challenges the marriage…” Her shoulders rose and fell in a helpless shrug. “My husband will be thorough in assuring everything is legal.”
“What might we do to satisfy him—and anyone else who might choose to interfere?”
She appeared to give the question thought, then said, “It is unorthodox, but if there was a witness…” Her words trailed off.
Riana’s sharp intake of breath was like a knife to his heart. He considered changing course, but remembered Sir Dunbar, already risking his life to rescue the younger Lady Ellis. To quit now was to ensure his death. There was no turning back. Bryant looked down at his wife. Tears shimmered in her eyes. His heart twisted. She would thank him for saving her sister, but would she forgive him for inviting the duchess to watch while he fucked her?
Chapter Thirteen
Riana stared, unable to tear her gaze from her husband’s handsome face. She had questioned why he would marry her. The answer was so simple she wondered why it hadn’t occurred to her before. He believed she held secrets that could harm the duke and duchess, and had gambled that if he married her, she would be grateful enough to reveal those secrets. This explained why he was willing to marry a woman he believed capable of murder.
Yet his scheme didn’t quite make sense. Why marry her before finding out what she knew? If he had told her his plan, promised to save Siusan, she would have agreed to marry him. Trickery hadn’t been necessary.
Neither was this game he was playing with the duchess necessary. What did he hope to gain by feeding her lust? Did he intend to include the duchess in this consummation? Her stomach roiled. How would she be able to stand the duchess’ hands on her flesh, the older woman’s mouth on her nipples, her fingers touching her cunt and thrusting inside her channel? Riana forced back bile.
“You are certain this will ensure we can leave Arundel this day?”
The sound of Sir Bryant’s voice jerked Riana from the morbid picture. We? Did that include Siusan? Panic rushed to the surface. If they left without Siusan, by morning her tender body would be bruised, and the blood on the sheets would be more than the tiny spot that always followed the first time a man laid between a virgin’s legs. Worse, the following night the duchess would send the first in the long string of men who would fuck Siusan until she, like Riana, outlived her usefulness.
“I will assure my husband everything is as it should be.” The duchess turned and crossed to the door. She slid the bolt into place, slim fingers lingering for an instant on the steel bar before she faced them.
Lust glittered in the blue depths of her eyes. Riana’s heart raced. The duchess was already envisioning Sir Bryant’s cock, long, hard, and jutting towards Riana as he buried his face between her legs. She swallowed, her throat like sand. She knew the duchess always watched when a man fucked her, but the wall between them gave Riana some emotional protection. This time, the older woman would be in plain view.
Riana would see the desire that clouded her eyes, watch her hands slide over her breasts, then down her stomach to eventually dip into the curls between her legs. Already, the slight rise and fall of her breasts indicated the lust that had begun to coarse through her body. Tears burned the corners of Riana’s eyes.
Sir Bryant grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. He stared, eyes soft. Anger shot through her. What sort of fool was he to think she was to be swayed by those emerald-green eyes? Was there a way to get out of this room before her husband subjected her to this final degradation? He dropped his gaze to her breasts and released one shoulder, then traced a finger across the exposed swell of creamy flesh. Shivers raced down her shoulders. He paused and his eyes shifted to meet hers.
Riana lifted her chin. A corner of his mouth twitched and she recalled his smile when she had discovered it was he in her bed instead of Sir Dunbar. What sort of devil was he to toy with her so? Why not just strip away her clothes and cram his cock inside her? Surely he didn’t think the duchess cared for sentimentality? He dipped his finger below her bodice and she gasped when the warm digit brushed across her nipple. The tip instantly hardened and she cursed her body’s response. She hadn’t resisted his charm earlier. Could she now? Was it wise to try? How was it possible she could experience desire when only two hours after he promised to protect her, he was offering h
er to the duchess?
The hand that still gripped her shoulder slid downwards, dragging her sleeve below the breast. He lowered his head and Riana met the duchess’ eyes as he closed his warm lips around the nipple. Riana stiffened. The older woman’s forefinger was inside her bodice, mimicking Sir Bryant’s caress. Eyes locked with Riana’s, she yanked down a sleeve, exposing a lush breast. Slowly, she slid a palm along the breast until she cupped the weighty flesh. Riana drew a sharp breath when she lifted the perfect globe to her mouth. Riana jammed shut her eyes as the nipple disappeared between her lips.
Desire shot through Riana with awareness of the tongue that flicked her own nipple. Sir Bryant sucked, and she couldn’t halt a whimper. He snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her against his mouth. She startled as she recognised the steel rod that dug into her abdomen was his arousal. Pain slashed through her. Why should she be surprised that his cock had turned rock hard in scant minutes? He had proven his prowess in her bed. Now he was living out the true fantasy he’d kept hidden in his heart. After he was finished with her, would he force her to watch while he rammed his shaft inside the older woman until he came in a spasm that left him limp on top of her body?
Sir Bryant abruptly released her nipple and straightened. Riana snapped open her eyes and dragged in a harsh breath. He stared as though she was the most beautiful woman in the world…the only woman in the world. But she wasn’t. Another woman, the woman who had imprisoned her in this madhouse, was present, and slaking her perverted desires at Riana’s expense. Pain flickered in his eyes. Was that regret? Riana searched his gaze, but he suddenly lowered his head and kissed her. She remained motionless while he moved his mouth over hers. He broke the kiss and trailed wet lips along her neck to her ear.
“Do not fear,” he whispered.
She jerked, but he held her firm as he closed his mouth over her earlobe and gently bit down. She jerked again, but this time with pleasure. He grasped her shoulders with warm fingers and pulled her dress down her arms. Riana stood motionless as the dress slid past her hips and pooled on the carpet at her feet. A low fire burnt in the hearth, yet gooseflesh rose and spread like wildfire down her arms. She couldn’t prevent a shiver.
“Spread your legs,” he said in a whisper she knew was meant to be heard by the duchess.
Riana jammed her eyes shut and widened her stance. He reached between her legs and slipped a finger into her folds. Pleasure rippled through her. Tears pressed against the insides of her eyelids. She could not—would not—feel desire. He gently massaged her sensitive bead of flesh with his thumb. Riana clenched her hands at her sides against the tightening in her centre. He thrust a thick finger inside her slick channel.
“You are so wet,” he whispered, and she opened her eyes.
He stared, eyes dark, and she was struck with the thought that he had momentarily forgotten the duchess was watching…participating. He thrust harder. Pleasure spiked, but she forced her hands to remain at her sides.
You want me, he mouthed.
He covered her breast with his free hand and pressed his palm against the hardened areola. The urge to grind her nub against the finger Sir Bryant was moving in and out of her channel clenched her stomach muscles. Riana bit down on her lip. If she gave in, the duchess would have her satisfaction, her pleasure. How would Riana keep the bile from rising when the older woman cried out in her release?
Sir Bryant abruptly yanked his finger from inside Riana. She threw her arms around his neck when he swept her into his arms. She caught sight of the duchess, her dress now lying in a puddle at her feet as Riana’s was, and buried her head in Sir Bryant’s chest. He took three steps and she felt herself being lowered, then the velvet of the couch arm brushed the back of her legs.
Riana opened her eyes as he laid her on the cushion. He straightened, and her pulse spiked when he pulled off his gambeson, then the shirt beneath, baring his broad, dark chest. Her heart lurched. He was beautiful. He shoved down his hose and his cock sprang forward. The duchess’ sharp intake of breath jarred Riana.
A moment later, Sir Bryant stood naked and he climbed onto the couch, straddling Riana’s stomach. Her heart leapt into a gallop with his shaft only inches from her mouth. Pre-cum glistened on the mushroom tip, begging for her to lap up the tangy juice.
“Taste me,” he said.
Riana swung her gaze up to his. Was she so transparent that he could so easily read her mind? He grasped her shoulders and moved closer. The scent of musk that radiated from his shaft assaulted her senses. Why was he doing this? Why not just shove his cock inside her and be done with the deed? The duchess hadn’t stipulated that he need draw out Riana’s humiliation. She would belong to him whether he fucked her in one minute or one hour.
He wrapped his fingers around his shaft and desire streaked through her at sight of the long, brown digits firmly gripping the thick shaft. He shifted closer to her mouth and brushed the velvety-soft tip across her lips. She reflexively licked at her lips and tasted his sharp tang. Sir Bryant gently pushed the shaft past her lips, then released his cock as she sucked him deep into her mouth.
He groaned, muscles in his chest flexing as he began a rhythm. Riana grasped his shaft, keeping him steady. He moved in and out and the memory flashed into her mind of kneeling before him in the chapel, his cock in her mouth as it was now, the desire that had flooded her at thought of him filling her channel. In those few moments, her hopes had been high.
She choked back a sob and he stilled, his eyes snapping open. He stared for an instant, then turned and straddled her so that his arse faced her. She blinked, then realised his intent when he stretched out on top of her, bracing his weight with one leg, and buried his face between her legs. His erection laid a hair’s breadth from her mouth. She clamped her mouth shut, determined not to allow him entrance, then drew in a sharp breath when his tongue delved between her folds. He lapped at her cream, his tongue dipping inside her quivering walls. When he sucked her nub into his mouth, her chest tightened and she thrust against his mouth. Shame rolled over her. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t care for him, couldn’t trust this man who would sacrifice her.
His cock jerked, then lay heavy on her chest. He sucked harder on her sex. She trembled, her body reaching for release. She wanted, needed, his cock in her mouth while his mouth claimed her. She took him inside and he groaned, the sound rumbling through her sex straight to her core. Her heart twisted in unison with the building pressure. This would be the last time he touched her. He held a power over her she’d never experienced with any other man, a power that would prove her undoing. But she wouldn’t allow her lust to destroy Siusan. When this charade was finished, she would slip away with her sister and take what little chance they had for escape.
His tongue abruptly flicked at her nub, the feather-light touch enough to keep her teetering on the edge, but not enough to push her into spasm. She rocked against his mouth and was surprised to hear his low chuckle. Did he delight in torturing her, bringing her to the brink only to keep the prize out of reach? What sort of monster was he? She could play the same game. Riana sucked him deep into her mouth. His tongue faltered, and satisfaction emboldened her. She sucked him hard, and the flicks of his tongue quickened.
A moan slipped past her lips. Riana cursed her lack of control, but the admonition was forgotten as quickly as it had come with the pleasure that spiked. She bucked against his mouth. He closed his lips around her sex and began to suck again. His cock slipped from her mouth as release rolled over her. She cried out. Sir Bryant abruptly sprang to his feet. Her head reeled. She grabbed for him, but he easily broke free and moved around to the arm of the couch and grasped her legs, pulling them over the arm
She blinked. “What—”
He cut her off with a kiss and grabbed the pillow from the couch. When he broke the kiss, he lifted her hips and placed it beneath her buttocks so that her cunt angled up on the arm without discomfort to her back. Sir Bryant grasped her thighs and spread t
hem so that her sex lay bare to him. The duchess stepped up beside him. Riana’s heart twisted. She’d almost forgotten the older woman was present.
Sir Bryant brought his cock to the mouth of Riana’s channel and looked at the duchess. “This is the final step.”
Before either of them could respond, he shoved his cock inside her. Riana gasped at the sudden invasion, her walls closing around the rod as pleasure quickly built again.
No. Not with the duchess in sight.
But he thrust into her, hard and fast, clearly intending to push her over the edge. His chest strained with each measured thrust. Riana shook her head, but he locked eyes with her, willing—commanding—her to submit. He slammed into her. The muscle in his jaw tensed. He gripped her hips, digging his fingers hard into the flesh with each plunge of his cock. Pleasure rolled over her and she knew she wouldn’t be able to prevent her release.
Sir Bryant released her hips and pulled her up onto the arm, hugging her close as he pounded into her. She clung to his neck and buried her face in his chest. If she could stop this now, she would. The memories would be painful enough without this final humiliation. Warm breath on her ear startled her.
“Trust me,” he said in the barest of whispers that made her wonder if she’d heard correctly. “I will not fail you.”
And he didn’t. Her walls convulsed around him, and he groaned his release in unison with her cry.
Chapter Fourteen
Riana didn't miss the tightening of Sir Bryant’s mouth when the duchess instructed her to go directly to her chambers and prepare to leave. He clearly didn’t want her left to her own devices while he and the duchess sought an audience with the duke. He had good reason to worry.
She gave a nod of acquiescence to the duchess’ order that she be ready to leave within the hour. She would be ready to go, only not as expected. Her hand shook on the latch as she stepped into the hallway and clicked the door shut, leaving them to await the duke. Her knees weakened, the feel of Sir Bryant’s cock lodged inside her as her walls closed around him in pleasure so close to the surface that her sex still ached. She forced her legs into submission and hurried down the hall towards the stairs leading to the fourth floor and her sister’s chambers.