River Bound: Bound and Tied, Book 3

by Jackson, Myla

  “I doubt you have it in you, dear sir.” Her lips curved into the smile of a seductress, luring him to his demise.

  Dalton went willingly, diving across the bed. He grabbed her wrist, twisted and dragged her on top of him. “Not fast enough, am I?”

  Her breasts pushed against his chest, her legs straddling his waist. “I doubt you have the stamina necessary to please a woman properly.”

  “Dare you impugn my manhood, woman?” He flipped her over and laid her across his lap, his hand poised over her pearly white ass. “Care to retract your accusation?”

  “Never.” She wiggled against him, her thatch of hair abrading his cock and sending shafts of lust through his body.

  Dalton quelled the urge to drive into her, preferring to play the game as she so enjoyed. He slapped her bottom hard enough to make a light red imprint on her fair skin.

  She squealed. “How dare you spank me!”

  “I’ll spank you again if you don’t retract your accusation.”

  “I most certainly will not.” Her bottom rose in anticipation of his next slap.

  He smacked her harder this time, the sound sending him over the edge of patience. He pulled her up his body until he could peer into her face. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she sighed. “I apologize.”

  “Good, because I can’t hold out much longer.” He flipped her onto her back and held her hands high over her head. “Next time I won’t be so lenient.” He nudged her thighs apart with his knee and settled between her legs, his cock poised at her entrance.

  “Please,” she cried, digging her heels into the mattress, lifting her bottom to get closer.

  Dalton held back, teasing her with the tip of his dick. “Do you want me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Enough to beg?”

  “Please.”

  He rammed into her, sheathing his cock all the way to his balls. Her channel hugged him like a wet silk glove, convulsing around him as he slid back out.

  She whimpered. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him back inside her.

  Dalton slammed in and out of Rosalyn, his attack merciless, the ferocity of his assault filled with fervor, drive and ruthless passion.

  Rosalyn gave as good as she got, biting into his shoulder, her teeth leaving indentations.

  When he hit the peak and shot over the edge, he exploded in a flash of color and sensations. The woman beneath him stiffened, her back arching off the bed, her hips rising to meet his one final thrust.

  Together, they drifted back to earth, their journey complete, their passion spent.

  Dalton must have drifted off to sleep, completely uncaring whether or not the marshal returned. He had the woman he loved in his arms, and he couldn’t be happier than at that moment.

  As he slipped into slumber, he dreamed. A midnight-haired woman looped ropes around his wrists and tied him to an iron bed, the better to tame his savage lusts and treat his body to a sensual attack only a woman in love could administer.

  He woke to find Rosalyn lying across him, her naked body moving against him, his wrists cinched tight against the white iron headboard.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “I don’t want you to leave until we get this little matter of murder settled. When James returns, we will decide what to do with you.”

  From dead asleep to fully awake, Dalton jerked, trying to sit up. “Are you serious?”

  “I assure you, I did not tie you up as part of a perverse sexual ritual.” Her lips curved upward. “Although, now that you’re here, I can think of a hundred wonderful ways to torture you.” Her hands slipped over his chest, tweaking his nipples into taut nubs. “Shall I show you while we wait for James?”

  “What if the marshal returns to search your room?”

  “I locked the door.”

  “Smart woman. Now untie me so that I can show you just how much I appreciate your intelligence.” He strained against the ropes, testing the knots. He felt a little slippage and almost smiled.

  “Not yet. Not until I have my way with you.” She slid down his body, her own skin smooth and warm against him. The lower she moved, the harder his cock grew.

  “I feel at a distinct disadvantage.” He groaned.

  “Good.”

  “How am I to pleasure you when I’m trussed up like a pig on a spit?”

  “I gain great pleasure knowing I have you right where I want you. I can do anything to you and you can do nothing to retaliate.”

  “Or reciprocate.” He tipped his head, his brows rising. “Am I right?”

  “Most certainly. But then, I don’t want you to reciprocate. This is my brand of torture. Lie back and learn.”

  His gaze darted to the door, the thought of the marshal storming through almost as titillating as it was worrisome. But what could he do? The woman would have her way with him, and he couldn’t deny the hunger it stirred inside. “I am at your mercy, my lady.”

  Rosalyn scooted lower, pressing her mouth to skin stretched taut over his ribs. Slowly, she worked her way down his torso to his flat stomach and finally to the patch of hair surrounding his cock. Her fingers trailed over his member as though coaxing it to attention.

  His back arched off the bed, pushing his cock up through her fingers, the light touch not nearly enough. He wanted more. He twisted his wrists, pulling hard against the ropes, stretching them to loosen his bindings.

  Rosalyn leaned over him and kissed the rounded head, dipping the tip of her tongue into the tiny hole on the end.

  He forgot for a moment that he wanted his freedom, forgot that he was a prisoner held captive by this witch of a seductress mesmerizing him into a lusty trance.

  When she slid her mouth down over his dick, he groaned, one hand slipping free of his bindings. He reached up and loosened the other.

  His seductress seemed unaware, her attention focused on his member, on sucking it deep into her mouth and lavishing her warm, wet tongue across its hardened length.

  When his fingers threaded through her hair and pushed her mouth down over him, she gasped and jerked free of his cock. “How…?”

  He smiled, cupping her chin. “You are a beautiful woman and an accomplished lover, but you have much to learn about securing a man by rope.” He guided her back to the business of sucking his cock, easing her up and down, faster and faster.

  When he thought he could stand it no longer, he tensed, withdrew and flipped her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head. With quick, deft movements, he had her hands bound together and tied to the headboard she’d tethered him to moments before. “Now, who is in charge?”

  She smiled up at him, her blue eyes wide, a spark of mischief shining through. “Sadly, I believe you are.”

  “Sadly?” He scraped a finger along her chin and down her neck to her breasts. He tugged at one nipple until it pebbled firmly. “I can’t have you romping around while a killer is on the loose and a marshal with a rope and a rabid posse is ready to hang someone. You will remain here until I can locate James and root out the man responsible for setting me up.”

  A frown settled between her brows. “That could take a long time, considering you’ve been searching now for a year.”

  “I don’t plan on being on the run for another year, and James better be back soon, or I’ll be searching for him as well.”

  A soft knock at the door made Dalton spin around.

  “Rosalyn. Open up.” James’s whispered entreaty sent Dalton to the door.

  “Excuse me. You aren’t opening that door with me laid out naked, are you?”

  Dalton grinned. “It’s only James.”

  Rosalyn rolled her eyes. “A woman likes a little foreplay before she’s thrown to the wolves.”

  “Trust me, you’ll have your foreplay.” Dalton twisted the key in the lock. Before he could open the door, it burst open.

  James shoved through and closed the door quickly behind him. When he spied Dalton, he grinned and clapped t
he man on his naked back. “Oh, thank the stars. I thought you were long gone. Did you have a run-in with the marshal?”

  “I missed him by a hair.” Dalton locked the door and pressed his ear to the wood paneling. “Did anyone follow you?”

  “No. I made certain the passageway was clear before I went to your room. I must say, I was worried when I saw your belongings flung all over creation.”

  “Did you catch the man Saulnier was talking with?”

  James nodded. “I never got a clear look at the man, but I followed him to a high-class neighborhood where he entered a home.”

  “You think you can find your way back to that residence?”

  “I memorized the location.”

  Dalton dragged in a deep breath. “I think it’s time to bring the marshal in on this.”

  “Why?” James asked.

  “Saulnier identified the man he was talking to as the player at the card table the night the soldiers were killed.”

  “The gentleman who called himself Tyler King?”

  “Yup. He hired Saulnier to stash the bag of gold in my room.” Dalton’s mouth pressed into a hard line.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” James stared across at Dalton.

  Dalton smiled. “I believe we’ve found our murderer.”

  “Excuse me, gentlemen. I could use your assistance,” Rosalyn called out.

  James turned and for the first time saw Rosalyn. His eyes widened as he drank in her nakedness and the ropes binding her wrists to the headboard. “My, my. Are we playing with fire?” He glanced at Dalton.

  “We had a little disagreement about who should stay put.” Dalton grinned. “I won.”

  “I beg to differ.” Rosalyn huffed. “James, untie me at once.”

  James leaned against the door, his gaze going from Dalton to Rosalyn and back. “No, ma’am. Can’t say that I disagree with Dalton. You have a way of getting smack-dab in the middle of trouble. If we leave you tied up until Dalton and I get back from the marshal’s office, we won’t have to worry about what trouble you’re into while we’re gone.”

  Rosalyn frowned. “You can’t take Dalton to the marshal’s office. He’ll string Dalton up from the nearest tree before he has a chance to say lickety-split.”

  Dalton’s lips twisted. “Nice of you to care.”

  “I don’t. Not since you tied me up and plan on leaving me to rot until you two are done risking your lives.” She twisted her arms, attempting to loosen the ropes. “Let me loose. You can’t leave me here tied up naked.”

  Dalton glanced at James. “I believe we can.”

  James nodded. “Best idea you’ve had lately.” He crossed to the woman tied to the bed and stared down at her pale skin. “I’ve a mind to show you what it’s like to tease a person into a lather.” James glanced at Dalton. “That is, if you don’t mind?”

  Dalton shrugged. “She tossed my engagement ring like so much garbage. I don’t own her. Yet. Besides, I believe she likes a little competition over her. Selfish woman that she is.” Dalton’s mouth curved upward in a devilish smile. “Shall we show her what it’s like to be tempted beyond redemption and left high and dry?”

  “Reckon we have time? The marshal will be sound asleep when we show up at his door. What will another hour later matter?”

  Dalton nodded. “It will only take a moment to get her where we want her.”

  “Absolutely.” James clapped his hands together. “First I’ll need to level the odds.” He stripped in record time, kicking his boots off, then his trousers, shirt and drawers.

  “I’m impressed,” Rosalyn commented, her voice droll. “So, you’re fast out of your clothes—a talent a woman can appreciate. Now quit playing and untie me.”

  James shook his head. “First I want to see you beg.”

  Dalton leaned back against the door. “Not such a difficult task, if you know the right places.”

  “Do you mind?” James glared at Dalton. “I believe I have this.” With a work-roughened finger, he traced a line from beneath her earlobe along her chin, down her neck to a puckered, pink nipple.

  “Already did that,” Dalton commented, crossing his arms over his chest, his cock springing upward as he witnessed the other man touching his woman. He should be angry, but he couldn’t stop James and didn’t want to.

  Rosalyn lifted her head, her eyes round, her breathing ragged. “Are you going to stand there and watch?”

  Dalton nodded. “Yup.”

  James’s fingers slid along her pale skin, lower and lower until they encountered the dark thatch of curls over her mons.

  His gut tightening, Dalton clamped down hard on his tongue to keep from telling James to back off. Jealousy flared, warring with lust. Lust won, holding Dalton back and allowing James to continue his torment.

  Dalton rubbed his hand along his cock, imagining sliding inside Rosalyn. He could see her pussy glistening in the candlelight, and his cock jerked in anticipation of burying deep inside her.

  James’s fingers slid between her folds. “Anything yet?” he coaxed, his finger strumming that sensitive nubbin Dalton so loved to tease with his tongue.

  “No,” she said through gritted teeth. “Nothing.”

  Dalton smiled. “You’re lying.” He pushed away from the door, unable to remain aloof another moment longer. He spread her thighs wide and climbed on the bed between them.

  “Hey. I was doing this,” James protested.

  “You’re taking too long.” Dalton leaned over Rosalyn and rammed his cock deep inside her hot, wet channel.

  Rosalyn dug her heels in the bed and rose up to meet his thrust.

  She loved it hard and fast, just like he gave it to her. Her beautiful eyes stared up into his, capturing him with their intensity. He could imagine himself spending the rest of his life gazing into their pale blue depths, holding her in his arms for an eternity. This was his woman, his love, the only one for him.

  Beside the bed, James straightened. “I can’t compete with this. I’ll be at the marshal’s office should you need me.” He dressed as quickly as he’d disrobed, clapping his hat on his head as he left the room.

  The door closed behind him, but Dalton barely heard it, his concentration focused solely on the woman tied to the bed.

  He drove in, slamming her hard, forgetting that James had left, forgetting he had business to settle, forgetting everything else but Rosalyn.

  Her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him down, encouraging him to quicken his strokes, to pound into her over and over. With her breath coming in short, rasping gasps, her moans growing louder, she must have felt their undeniable connection too.

  “You are mine, now and always,” he said, bearing down one last time as he came inside her, his body clenching, a rush of sensations shooting through him in a kaleidoscope of feeling. His cock pulsed his seed into her as he held steady.

  She trembled beneath him, her fingers convulsing around the ropes binding her. “Damn you, Dalton, damn you for what you do to me. Untie me so that I can touch you, please.”

  Dalton collapsed on top of her and rolled to her side. He lay for a moment, spent, exhausted and exhilarated all at once. When he could move again, he turned to her, tracing a line the length of her upraised arm down to the edge of her breast and lower. As his passion cooled to a boil, he realized what James had said as he left the room.

  He’d gone to the marshal’s office. The man had set out to finish what Dalton had started. He couldn’t let his friend go alone.

  With Rosalyn lying naked beside him, Dalton had no desire to leave the bed, especially knowing he could be captured and lynched if he went anywhere near the marshal, but he couldn’t let James handle it all. What if the marshal accused his bounty-hunter friend of aiding the outlaw? Dalton sighed, pushed up to his elbows and stared down at Rosalyn.

  “Know this, woman. I will be back. And when I return, we will figure this whole thing out.” He kissed her quickly and leaped off the bed before he started something h
e didn’t have time to finish. He dragged his trousers up over his hips and shoved his arms into his jacket.

  “Don’t leave me like this, Dalton Black. I won’t be here when you get back,” Rosalyn said, twisting and turning in an attempt to loosen the ropes.

  Dalton clamped his hat on his head and flicked the brim, a smile playing across his lips. “I believe you will. I tied the knots tighter than you did.”

  With a wad of guilt pushing him through the door, Dalton left. She’d forgive him once he found the murderer and cleared his name.

  Wouldn’t she?

  Chapter Seven

  After an hour of stewing over being left alone in her cabin, Rosalyn managed to attract the attention of a young steward. The poor boy, upon finding her naked and tied to the bed, was almost too embarrassed to do anything about it. The pimple-faced kid could barely untie the knots his hands shook so badly, his face a painful red the entire time.

  When she finally got loose, Rosalyn kissed him soundly on the lips and ushered him out the door, promising to leave a hefty tip for him in the morning.

  She took too many minutes to dress in her black evening gown, yanking her hair up into a quick chignon at the nape of her neck. The men had been gone too long, and she couldn’t stand not knowing what had happened to them.

  When she’d finished dressing, she hurried out on deck, her gaze panning the dock, hoping to spy Dalton on his way back from the marshal’s office, a smile lighting his face as he announced he’d cleared his name.

  Alas, the dock stood unusually quiet. Even the employees who often worked long into the night loading goods onto steamboats had gone home. The river lay silent, the lap of water against the sides of the Marie-Dearie the only sound.

  “A beautiful night, don’t you think?” A gentleman dressed in a gray pinstriped suit, wearing a hat drawn low over his brow, stepped up beside Rosalyn.

  “Pardon me?” She edged away from him, not in the mood for conversation, especially from a man thinking she was fair game alone and without a chaperone.

  “You’re with Dalton Black, aren’t you?”