A Knight of Passion(25)
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 f*cked 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 f*ck 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 f*cked 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 her to the duchess?