Erotic Tales by C. M. Roberts

Taken by the Tyrant

Read the sample here.
Word count: 9,700

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Young, inexperienced Lady Isadora is about to be married to handsome but ruthless King Jacob Taggart. She is immediately drawn to his innate dominance. Not only is the king determined for her to bear his heir, but he also wants her to submit to him to ways she has never dreamed.

Even though an assassin lurks in the shadows of the castle, and both their lives are at risk, fertile Lady Isadora will be taken hard by the tyrant.

This is a companion story to AN HEIR TO THE KING.


King Jacob has said something. “My lady?”

I snap out of my own obsessive gazing of the strange monk and look up at my king. My future husband. His face holds a curious expression, one of amusement and…could it be lust? No, that is my own wishful thinking.

“My deepest apologies, my lord, I did not hear you,” I mumble, averting my gaze as is polite. I sneak one last peek at the non-conforming monk…and he’s gone. But how…?

“I asked, my lady, if you might join me for dinner this evening?”

My heart flutters at this, and the strange monk is quickly put out of mind. “Oh. Yes. Of course, my lord.”

We turn a corner and quite unexpectedly, he steers me into a dark alcove. I am a little confused, as I am trapped now between him and a wall. His large hand lightly draws the outline of my jaw. The sigh that escapes me is involuntarily: even more so is the hot chill that rolls down my front. My nipples, already sensitive due to being in my most fertile time of the month, rise for him, crying to be touched by his deft hand.

“This is a difficult time to be a ruler in this land,” he says, perhaps more to himself than to me. “We carry a great burden. My people are rebelling against me, questioning my right to rule.”
“I know you are the rightful king, my lord.”

“Yes…” He trails off and presses his body into my side. His armor is hard and cold, but something else hard in his trousers that is not cold juts into my side. Could that be…?
“Word is, my brother has an heir.” His hand trails down my face, to my neck, and graces my collarbone. “And I do not.”

Of course. If King Jacob were to die today, not only would his brother take over, but his brother’s son would be next in line for the throne. But if King Jacob died and he had a son or daughter…then the royal line would certainly not be passed to the Exile King.

His touch is intoxicating, sending shivers as if by witchcraft through my body. My eyes drift closed just for a moment as his hand dips through the top of my dress. His devious fingers reach around, cupping my full breast. I gasp in surprise—what if someone sees us?

Jacob is the king—he can take and do what he pleases.

Taken by the Tyrant

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