by Scott, Tarah
“By God,” he muttered. “You are so wet.”
She closed her eyes. He wanted her.
He slipped a finger past her cunt lips and into her opening. His palm brushed tantalising strokes across her pleasure point as he thrust inside. Her breath quickened. She would come before she’d had a chance think. Pleasure radiated through her. He’d only begun and already she wanted him more than any man she’d ever known.
Forgive me, Stuart.
Forgive me, Sir Bryant.
“Come for me, sweet,” he whispered.
With trembling hands, Riana reached behind her and grasped his arse. His muscled backside tensed beneath her touch. She dug her fingers into him, bracing herself as she pulsed against the fingers fucking her. He breathed kisses on her neck, his lips moist. She shivered. Clawing fingers of pleasure stretched through her. Pressure built. She pulsed faster. He rammed his fingers deeper. Searing rapture fractured through her. Riana cried out.
He yanked his fingers from inside her and quickly massaged her nub. Her core tightened. Riana ground her mound against his hand. A second spasm rolled over her before the last had completely faded, and her legs gave way. He yanked her hard against him, riding the wave of her pleasure, massaging with his finger, allowing her to float down from the euphoria that clouded her mind. At last, he gently cupped her curls and she became aware of the engorged cock nestled between her buttocks. Even through the thin layer of his hose she could feel the steel rod pulse as she gained her legs once again.
Sir Bryant turned her to face him. “Well done.”
She couldn’t help a laugh. “It is you who have done well.”
He grinned. “You inspire me.”
Riana covered his cock with her palm. “What of you, my lord?”
Despite the desire that flared in his eyes, he shifted his gaze to the plait on the right side of her head. “We will get to me soon enough.”
He surprised her by pulling away the pin that held the plait in place. Riana didn’t breathe as he unwound the plait. When he fisted her loose hair, brought it to his mouth and breathed deeply, she thought she would weep.
“Vanilla,” he whispered,
He took another deep draught, then unbound the other plait. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders and across her breasts. Sir Bryant slid a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him.
“You are a witch,” he murmured, and his mouth covered hers.
Her cry died inside his mouth. He hugged her close. Hard muscle pressed against her breasts. The powerful thump, thump, thump of his heart echoed through her chest. He swept his tongue past her lips and inside her mouth. Riana’s legs weakened at feel of the erection that dug into her belly like the animal it was. He broke the kiss and swung her into his arms. In three paces, he reached the bed and laid her on the mattress. He straightened and his gaze remained locked with hers as he pulled off first his gambeson, then the white shirt beneath.
Riana’s breath caught. She’d seen him before in all his male glory, but this time was different. This time, for this moment, he was hers. He shoved his hose past his hips. His cock sprang free, hard, long and insistent. He came to the bed and lowered himself on top of her. Solid warmth enveloped her. His rod lay between them, hot and demanding. Her heart leapt into an erratic beat. She wanted him so badly it hurt.
He kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. She sensed his restraint and grasped his shoulders, kissing him back with the silent command to fuck her with all his might. When she flicked her tongue against his lips, he groaned and sucked her tongue inside his mouth. Sir Bryant thrust against her belly. The velvety shaft slid along her flesh, the wet tip slick with pre-cum.
Riana wrapped a leg around his arse and arched against him. His arms banded around her like steel. Swarms fluttered in her stomach. In his embrace, nothing could touch her. Tonight, for this moment, she was safe…he was safe.
She reached between them and grasped his long, thick stalk. He pulsed in her fingers. She angled her channel and fitted him to her opening.
“Riana.” Her name spoken in a voice hoarse with desire made her stomach do a flip. “I want to move slowly,” he began.
She shoved upwards, sheathing him balls-deep. His groan reverberated in her ear. He pulled out, then plunged deep. He crushed her to him, chest pressed against the sensitive tips of her breasts. Riana wrapped her arms around his back. Muscle bunched beneath her fingers. He thrust harder. Heat flooded her. He pistoned faster. Her breath hitched as the thick barrel stroked her channel walls. A flutter radiated from her core. The friction intensified. Her heart pounded, the rampant beat almost as erratic as his.
Pleasure shot from her core. Riana cried out. Her walls closed around his cock. Cream gushed around him. He shoved onto an elbow, not losing the rhythm of his thrusts, and met her gaze. Her heart stopped. Stark need shone in his eyes. Tears burned in her eyes. His gaze sharpened. She arched her hips, meeting the fierce thrust of his cock. He drew in a sharp breath and buried his face in her neck. He tightened his arms around her and she felt the pulse of his seed shooting into her. Her walls contracted around him. He thrust again, hard, deep, crushing the breath from her. Suddenly, he stiffened, his body a mass of muscle in the instant his release rolled over him, and he collapsed on top of her.
His breathing came hard and heavy. Riana drank in the feel of his hard, masculine body pinning her to the mattress. He lay still but a moment, then slid off her, pulling her into his warmth.
“Witch,” he murmured, and relaxed against her.
Chapter Nineteen
Riana winced when Glen stepped from the stall where he had hidden and brought his fist down on the nape of the warrior who had accompanied them from Chilgoriam. The young man crumpled to the hay-strewn floor of the village stables like a sack of potatoes.
“Riana,” Siusan protested, but Riana quieted her with a stern look. The stables looked empty, but if a stable boy had decided to sleep the morning away in one of the stalls, they couldn’t risk giving away the fact that Riana was not going to France with Glen and Siusan as her note to Sir Bryant had said.
“Are we alone?” Riana asked Glen.
He nodded, then grasped the warrior beneath his arms and dragged him into the stall. Riana hurried forward to the fourth stall, where Siusan’s horse was.
Siusan trailed after her. “This cannot be the best way to deal with the duchess,” she insisted.
Riana swung open the door. “We have already decided. I will not risk your or Sir Bryant’s life.” She stepped inside, grasped the horse’s reins, and backed him out of the stall.
“He is no fool.”
Riana handed her the reins. “No. But neither is he invincible. You know as well as I that the duchess will not give up. I will not ask him to look over his shoulder the rest of his life.” She stepped down to the next stall where she’d left her horse and led him from the stall.
Glen appeared from within the stall where he’d left the warrior and hurried towards them.
He reached Siusan’s side and she grasped his arm. “Glen, tell her.”
His eyes softened, but he shook his head.
“This is not wise,” Siusan persisted.
“You must trust me,” Riana said.
Siusan locked gazes with her. “I know you have no intention of coming to France.”
Riana blinked. “Of course—”
“You will not risk the duchess taking her vengeance out on Sir Bryant.”
“True,” Riana replied. “But once Sir Andrew brings the duke and duchess to heel, I will leave.”
“And how long will that be? What if Sir Andrew does not deal with them? Even if he does, that does not guarantee she will not try to harm Sir Bryant.”
“I will come to France,” Riana said. “Glen.” She looked at the old man. “You must leave now.”
Siusan’s mouth thinned, but she did as directed and mounted her horse. Riana stepped into her saddle and Glen hurried ahead of them. He paused at the door, p
eered outside, then motioned them forward. They urged the horses out of the door and away from the bustling village street, around the stables where Glen had a horse waiting. He mounted and pulled up alongside Riana.
“A day’s ride and you will be in Aberdeenshire. Take the first ship away from here. From there, you go directly to France.” Riana edged her horse closer to Siusan. “It will be a hard ride, but freedom awaits you.”
She threw an arm around Siusan and hugged her close. She discerned the tremble in her sister’s body and gave her a squeeze before releasing her. She looked at Glen. “Find a way to send word, and I will let you know that all is well.”
Doubt flickered across Siusan’s face.
“No time to delay,” Riana urged.
Her sister nodded, and Riana nodded to Glen. His eyes moistened. Riana smiled. He smiled back, then he and Siusan started forward. Riana watched until they disappeared in the trees, then turned her horse south towards Arundel.
* * * *
Dawn had begun a grey crawl across the sky when Riana entered Arundel. The knot in her stomach had grown tighter over the last twenty-four hours. By now Glen and Siusan would be on a ship bound away from Scotland. All that remained was to face the duchess—that and the days she would spend in Sir Ross’ bed until she could leave Arundel knowing the duchess couldn’t harm Sir Bryant.
Riana was left waiting in the duchess’ anteroom, where the older woman had watched Sir Bryant fuck her only three days ago. Memory of his touch rose with a vividness that squeezed her heart. She would never again feel those large hands cupping her breasts, or his long fingers inside her wet channel. Nor would she hear him whisper deep in the night as he had last night. The door swung open and Riana forced back tears. The duchess stood in the doorway. She stared for an instant, crossed to Riana, and slapped her.
Riana’s head wrenched to the side with the force of the blow. The numbing sting splintered tentacles through her cheek. She slowly straightened and met the duchess’ gaze. Fury and triumph blazed in the older woman’s eyes. Riana gave a low laugh. Then she slapped her back.
The duchess’ hand flew to her reddened cheek and she retreated a step. “How dare you?”
“I warn you, Your Grace, do not push me too far.”
“I can still kill Sir Bryant,” she shot back.
Despite the fear that rammed through her, Riana gave a slow nod. “My presence here must tell you that your first attempt was not successful.”
“Assassins can be bought for a handful of silver,” the duchess spat.
“Aye, and some cost not a single piece of silver.” They stared at each other for a long moment before Riana added, “My sister is beyond your reach.”
The duchess narrowed her eyes. “Then why return?”
“I have no wish to be responsible for Sir Bryant’s death.”
“Why not force my hand by having Siusan marry while under Sir Bryant’s protection?”
Riana gave a harsh laugh. “I will not have my sister bind herself to some fool just to escape you.”
The duchess’ mouth curved upwards in a knowing sneer. “Say what you will, Riana, I have known you too long. You care for him.”
“If so, then you would do well to take care.”
“I should have had you thrown into prison.”
“Aye. But now you risk Sir Bryant rescuing me, as he did the first time.” A lie, but the duchess couldn’t know that.
Fury flashed in the older woman’s eyes, but she kept her fisted hands at her sides. “You will marry Sir Ross this very morning. The archbishop granted the annulment between you and Sir Bryant, and has agreed to perform the ceremony. No one will be able to contest this marriage.”
Riana felt as if the air had been knocked out of her. They would be away from Arundel and married before Sir Bryant could possibly interfere—if such a possibility existed. This was exactly as things should be. Yet despite knowing that, a crippling sorrow swept through her. She had ridden hard in order to reach Arundel, as much fearful Sir Bryant would overtake her as that she might encounter strangers who were unaware she was the ward of the powerful Duke of Arundel.
She had arrived safely only to be undone now by the realisation that while Sir Bryant would go on to live a full life without her, his memory would shadow the rest of her days. Sorrow twisted through her. Even once she left Scotland the ache would remain.
Riana gave the duchess a nod. “We should leave immediately. Sir Bryant is not a man to thwart.”
For the first time since Riana had known the duchess, doubt crossed her face. Satisfaction brought a deeper sense of determination. The duchess had good reason to fear for her life.
Chapter Twenty
At sound of the commotion in the great hall, Riana yanked the hem of her dress above her ankles and started down the hallway at a run. She reached the balcony overlooking the large room, breath sawing in and out of her so violently her vision blurred. She clutched the stone ledge and dragged in a harsh breath in an effort to fill her lungs with air as she stared at the men-at-arms who swarmed the great hall. They weren’t Sir Bryant’s men, as she’d feared, but bore the hammered crest of Sir Fostar.
Her heart rate ratcheted up another notch. By all that was holy, Sir Fostar had chosen this morning to bring the sentence of forfeiture against the duke and duchess? Riana cursed. This was the moment she’d waited for—Arundel and all the land the duke and duchess owned would become property of the Scottish parliament—but she was now caught in their web.
She glanced at the hallway behind her. The duchess was sure to attempt escape. But Sir Fostar would have posted men around the keep before barging in, so escape was impossible—for Riana as well. She scanned the dark heads in the room below, but found no sign of Sir Fostar. Where was he? Would he be able to protect her?
Half a dozen men started up the stairwell. Riana straightened from the balcony. A tall, red-haired man reached the landing first. His gaze paused on her face, then raked down her body. Trepidation rippled through her, then she mentally laughed at the thought that he could do anything to her that hadn’t already been done. Another man appeared behind him and he, too, took Riana in with a hard glance. The other men made the landing and filed past, each glancing at her before hurrying forward.
She stepped towards the first man. “I wish to see Sir Fostar.”
A condescending snort broke from him. “I wager you would.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Watch your tongue. He will not be pleased if you mistreat me.”
The second man raked her body with his eyes. “We know how to treat a woman.”
Despite his leer, Riana recognised the false bravado in his voice. Apparently Sir Fostar didn’t countenance rape amongst his men.
The man in the lead seized her arm. “She goes with the duchess.”
“You have found her?” Riana demanded.
“Aye, the bitch was in the stables.”
So it was the duke they now sought. Riana hadn’t thought to ask where he was when she met with the duchess. He could be away from Arundel. Surely he wouldn’t escape?
The warrior pulled Riana towards the stairs. They stepped aside for the other men who pounded up to the second floor, then he pushed her in front of him. Once in the great hall, he escorted her outside. Relief flooded her at sight of Sir Fostar standing with a group of men near the centre of the crowded bailey. The duke’s men-at-arms stood near the gate, faces grim but swords sheathed. They clearly had no wish to fight for a nobleman who would see the English Crown rule Scotland.
Riana and the warrior neared Sir Fostar, and he slid his eyes from the man he spoke with to her. His brows snapped into a frown. He shifted and dread slipped icy fingers through her veins. She understood the reason for his reaction. Lord Camden, Earl of Lochshire, stood to his right. The earl would surely do everything in his power to see that she suffered the same fate the duchess did. After Stuart died, he had asked for Riana’s hand in marriage. He was well known for his taste in boys and
she had refused him, making clear she would not spread her legs for a man who fucked children. He had never forgiven her.
The warrior brought her up alongside the men and stopped. Sir Fostar nodded, and the warrior left.
“Lady Ellis…” he began.
“I see we have another traitor,” Lord Camden cut in.
Riana levelled a cool gaze on him. “You must know it was I who told Sir Fostar that the duchess was fraternising with the Disinherited.”
The earl’s brows shot up. “He said nothing of it to me.”
“Sir Andrew knows that Lady Ellis aided in exposing the duke and duchess,” Sir Fostar said.
Lord Camden pursed his lips. “I will speak with Sir Andrew. Until then, Lady Ellis will go with me.”
“She is no criminal.”
“Do not be a fool,” the earl replied. “She is not above lying to protect herself.”
“There has never been a hint of suspicion that I am a follower of Balliol,” Riana said with a hauteur she felt to her bones. The despicable dog deserved to be flogged.
“If that is the truth, you have nothing to fear.”
But she did, though it wasn’t Lord Camden’s cock she need fear, but his hatred of her. He would gladly fuck her, then send her to the gallows with the knowledge that even Sir Andrew would hesitate to battle the earl’s five hundred men-at-arms to avenge a dead woman.
Lord Camden grasped her arm. Riana glanced at Sir Fostar. Anger whipped a hard lash across her insides when he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. How had she come this far to be undone by a cur such as Lord Camden? If she had but known today was the day Sir Fostar would come.
Another thought struck. If she had known—delayed even a day—she could have remained at Chilgoriam without fear the duchess would harm Sir Bryant. Her pulse leapt into a furious beat. Could she escape and return to him? Lord Camden started towards the keep. Riana stiffened, then forced her legs into motion. Even if she could break free of his iron grip, she wouldn’t get ten feet in the crowded bailey. She choked back despair. And even if she returned to Chilgoriam, Sir Bryant wouldn’t want a woman who had left him.