Lady Riana Ellis will risk the
fires of Hell for those she loves. Can she let a man do the same for her?
As whore for the Duchess of
Arundel, Lady Riana Ellis keeps her sister safe from the duke’s lascivious
desires. Now the duchess demands that Riana murder the man already sent to her
Sir Bryant Cullen determines to
have the duchess’ whore. Her land is a prize, but it’s her secrets he wants.
Once he knows what she knows, he will control one of the most powerful houses
in Scotland. And she will be his.
Warning: This title is intended for readers over the age of 18 as it
contains explicit sex scenes and/or situations (including voyeurism) and adult
language, and may be considered offensive to some readers.
Scottish Highlands, 1338
Lady Riana Ellis dribbled three drops of
poison from the wooden phial into the goblet sitting on the nightstand beside
the wine she would drink.
Fill the goblet to the brim, and death
would be quick.
But the fires of Hell that followed would
Even hellfire paled in comparison to the
nightmare that was Arundel.
If not for her younger sister living as
ward of the Duke and Duchess of Arundel, Riana would have ingested poison long
ago…if not for the fact the duke and duchess now had food tasters, she would
have slipped poison into their food long ago. Instead, she must now feed
the lethal fluid to Sir Neas Dunbar in order to save Siusan from the duke’s
Riana fitted the top back onto the phial.
She shivered despite the fire that crackled in the hearth to her left, and
rubbed gooseflesh from her naked arms. The duchess’ order to murder the knight
came with the explicit instruction, “Fuck him hard first.”
Anger clenched Riana’s stomach. The
duchess thrived on the fact this would be the man's last night amongst the
living, and had issued the edict because she wanted to watch. Her morbid
fascination would be Riana’s advantage—if she pulled off what was to be the
performance of her life.
The very thought of watching a man fuck
the woman who was about to murder him would have the duchess panting like a
bitch in heat. Already, she would be sitting behind the large painting that
hung over the bed…waiting. Riana had purposely kept her naked breasts from the
duchess’ view, knowing just the sight of her rounded buttocks in the soft
firelight would hold the older woman spellbound in anticipation of that first
glimpse of rosy areola and dark curls.
In the hours the duchess watched Riana
from behind the painting, Siusan and their surrogate father Glen would flee
Arundel for a village in the south of France. By the time Sir Dunbar sucked
Riana’s nipples into painful hardness, the duchess would be unable to tear
herself from watching them. When he finally stuffed his fingers between her
folds and rammed his cock into her arse, Siusan and Glen would be riding hard.
The knight was sure to do all this and more, for the duchess would instruct him
as she did every man Riana serviced: “Ride her hard. She is made for it.”
Siusan and Glen’s final security would be
if the duchess had brought one of her favorites from among the servants to suck
her cunt while she watched. Once she had satiated her perverted desires, and
Riana fed the knight the poisoned wine, the duchess would retire to her
chambers and await news that Sir Dunbar had been found dead in his bed.
The Sheriff would be called from his
chambers, where the duchess had installed him the night before, and he would
conclude the knight had died of a heart attack while rutting between Riana’s
legs—even if the duchess had to throw coin his way to ensure the verdict. If
Riana administered the poison first, Sir Dunbar’s heart would slow while he
pumped into her, until, at last, the veneer of death would be complete. That
would be a sight that could keep the duchess distracted indefinitely. But Riana
had been unable to overcome her revulsion at thought of the knight’s cock going
limp inside her as his dead weight pinned her to the mattress.
Sir Dunbar had left a trail of English
blood across the Scottish Highlands. The duchess was a fool to think anyone
would believe the heart that beat within his massive chest could give way due
to even the most rigorous thrusts of his cock into a woman’s cunt. Yet, if the
duchess had her way, he would fuck Riana, she would hang for his murder, and
Siusan would take her place as Arundel’s whore.
A tremor rippled through Riana. She had
served as a whore too long to feel guilt over spreading her legs. But murder?
And to what end? The fact she had killed a man at the duchess’ command wouldn’t
obligate the older woman to safeguard Siusan from the duke.
Siusan had grown into a young woman whose
pale beauty surpassed Riana’s darker hair and complexion. The duke’s increasing
demands to have Siusan’s maidenhead tightened the duchess’ stranglehold over
Riana. But Riana had her own leverage. The moment the duchess could no longer
protect Siusan, Riana would forego the poison and drive a dagger into her
heart. Then hang for the crime without remorse. Riana suppressed a bitter
laugh. Apparently murder was as easy to grow accustomed to as was fornication.
But until Siusan was safely away, Riana
couldn’t forget that the duchess’ cruelty was matched only by the duke’s
depravity. She choked back a recollection of the day he had stripped away her
memory of how sweet love could be and replaced it with understanding of how a man’s cock could foul a woman’s
every orifice. Riana bit back tears. Curse the war that had taken her father
and husband. Even God had deserted them. But she wouldn’t wait for God or
anyone else to save them. Tonight, she would end this madness. Riana closed her
eyes and released a slow breath. Fail, and the duke wasn’t the only threat they
The duke and duchess secretly supported
Edward Balliol, Scotland’s puppet king of Edward III, King of England and self-appointed Lord
Parliament of Scotland. Most of Scotland had been retaken by Sir Andrew Murray,
leader of Robert the Bruce’s faction. But King Edward III intended to wrest Scotland from him at
Two months ago, one of the Disinherited—the
Anglo Saxon Scots led by Balliol—had secretly visited Arundel, and Riana learnt
the duke and duchess had plotted with him to finance Balliol. She’d passed the
information to Sir Fostar, who had fought alongside her father and husband.
Sir Fostar warned Riana that Scotland
would bring a sentence of forfeiture against the duke, and seize his
wealth and land. If Riana and Siusan weren’t far away, they would become
casualties in the political aftermath. They couldn’t return to their mother—her
new husband would shun women branded as followers of the English king. Riana
envisioned her and Siusan wandering the streets and, eventually, forced into a
She glanced from the goblet laced with
poison to the door. Her pulse raced. Tears rushed to the surface and burned her
eyes before she could halt them. Once the knight appeared, there would be no
turning back. Her heart twisted. She was as big a fool as the duchess. There
had never been any turning back.
Award winning author Tarah Scott
cut her teeth on authors such as Georgette Heyer, Zane Grey, and Amanda Quick.
Her favorite book is a Tale of Two Cities, with Gone With the Wind as a close
second. She writes modern classical romance, and paranormal and romantic
suspense. Tarah grew up in Texas and currently resides in Westchester County,
New York with her daughter.