A Knight of Passion - By Tarah Scott Page 0,15

you?” Riana demanded, heedless of her nakedness.

Bryant grabbed her cloak from the floor as she hurried around the desk towards him. Dunbar sucked in a breath. Bryant cast him a recriminating look and stepped towards her, swinging the cloak around her shoulders.

She stared up at him, eyes wide. “Is my sister well?”

Bryant paused in tying the string and his heart tightened at the fear in her eyes. “She is well, Lady, and, no, Her Grace did not send us.”

Riana frowned. “Then why are you here?”

“I came to fetch you.” Bryant grasped her wrist and started towards the door.

“Lad,” Dunbar said.

Bryant halted.

“You are likely to start a riot with her dressed like that.”

Bryant cursed, then crossed to the desk and grabbed the dress. The warden met his gaze and there was no mistaking the amusement in the man’s expression. Bryant strode back to Riana and started to pull the cloak off her, then paused and cast a warning look at the warden. He faced the hearth, back to them, and Bryant loosened the tie on her cloak.

She grasped his fingers. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you from yourself.”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Have you any notion what the duchess will do once she learns you have been here?”

She glanced at the warden, then looked back at him. Her gaze flicked to her hand, still gripping his, and she released him. “I am aware of what Her Grace is capable of. But that is none of your concern, just as this is none of your concern.”

Despite the succinct words, Bryant didn’t miss the tremor in her voice. He started to push the cloak from her shoulders, then remembered Sir Dunbar and swung his gaze to the older knight. Dunbar raised his brow, clearly hoping to enjoy the view, but Bryant didn’t break his stare. Dunbar sighed and crossed to where the warden still stood, and faced the hearth.

Bryant parted the cloak. Pebbled nipples were now only inches from him. His cock jerked in reaction and poker-hot anger flared with the realisation that those rosy areolae had been worked to hard peaks by another man. He couldn’t prevent his gaze from dropping to her curls. Had the warden filled her with his seed? Blood pounded through Bryant’s veins and he cursed at the feel of his cock thickening. Only hours had passed since his shaft had been sheathed in her velvet glove, yet the sight of her cunt glistening with another man’s cum made him want to shove her against the wall and fuck her until she cried out his name.

He lifted his gaze to find her staring, eyes dark with indignation. He snapped the cloak from her shoulders. Her chin jerked upwards in defiance. Lust tightened his balls. He wanted—needed—to touch that fire again, soon. He tossed the cloak over his shoulder and started to fit the dress over her head.

She shoved aside his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Dressing you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“You wish to discuss this with an audience?”

She gave a hard laugh. “‘Tis far too late to care. I have important business, which you are interfering with.”

“Aye.” He swept a meaningful glance down her body.

Her brow scrunched in an incredulous expression. “You think to shame me?”

Bryant ignored the low laughter that emanated from the two other men and jammed the dress down over her head. “I think you would do well to obey me.”

He grasped her arm and shoved it into a sleeve. She twisted free. His control snapped, and he drove her back against the wall. Her soft contours gave way beneath his muscle. He gritted his teeth against the hardening of his shaft, but couldn’t stop his gaze from falling to her full breasts, crushed beneath him. Damn the gambeson he wore. If not for the wool-filled armour, he would be able to feel her nipples hard against his chest. He lifted his gaze. She stared through narrowed eyes devoid of fear, and ground her hips against his shaft. He sucked in a breath.

“Is that what you want, my lord?” Her voice dripped with scorn.

His fingers tightened convulsively on her shoulders. “I do not deny it. What man would?” Bryant motioned with his head to the warden. “Did he deny it?”

Bryant slipped a hand between them and cupped her breast. The firm weight filled his palm. “Did he do this to you?” Bryant kneaded the soft flesh, grazing the tip with his palm.

Her mouth parted in a tiny gasp. He leaned in to her, gently undulating