by Myla Jackson
“Can’t wait, darling?” Richard unbuttoned his vest, shucking it from his shoulders to fall on the ground at his feet. The shirt came next, the buttons sliding free with a minimum amount of effort.
Anger built inside her at his careless teasing. Did he not know what he did to her insides? Then again, perhaps he did and that made her even madder. “I can wait until hell freezes over. You’re not such a man that would have me panting like a dog.”
“Too bad.” His hand stopped on the last button on the fly of his trousers. With his chest and torso bare and tanned, he stood like a god, ready to command his minions. How could one man be so beautiful and yet so stubborn.
“Let me go, you oaf!” She pulled against her bindings, slamming her fists against the mattress in hopeless frustration.
“I thought you were beginning to like my form of retribution.” He ran a hand across his chest and down to the line of his trousers.
“I don’t even like you.” Her breath caught in her throat at the naked expanse of muscles barely out of her range. Would he drop the trousers? Would she find him even more magnificent there than he was everywhere else? The spit dried in her mouth and she licked her tongue across her lips. Drop the trousers.
“No?” His hands rose to his hips. “Are you not even curious about what it would feel like for me to slide inside you?”
“Not in the least,” she lied, her body coming alive to his words, liquid dripping from her cunt to dampen the sheet beneath her. Drop the trousers.
“Your eyes tell a different story. I believe you really want to see what I have to offer before you make a decision.” His fingers reached for the last button and he slid the black trousers from his hips to the floor. When he stepped out of them and straightened to his full height, his cock jutted straight out, hard, thick and huge.
Julia’s heart hammered against her chest, drool forming at the sides of her mouth. She couldn’t form a coherent thought with his magnificent cock proudly pointed at her.
“Satisfied?” A sexy smile tugged at the corners of his full, sensuous lips.
“No.” She wouldn’t be satisfied until he rammed his cock inside her and rode her hard. How could she feel this way about a relative stranger when she’d never felt this strongly about her own husband? She must have been a whore in a former life. She must have loved being treated roughly, because that’s what she wanted now.
“Perhaps you need more punishment before you’re ready for me.” He climbed over her, his knee parting her thighs all too easily.
Fight him, you fool. Her mind told her to do all she could to get loose from the cowboy and run as fast as she could. With her hands tied snugly over her head, she was helpless to escape.
Richard covered her body with his, the coarse hairs on his chest sliding over her breasts and belly as he descended inch-by-inch until his face hovered over the mound between her legs.
“This is what Tessa taught me.” With the tips of his fingers, he parted her folds, stroking the sensitive nub lying between. “She told me the way to a woman’s desire is by coaxing her to orgasm and this tiny strand of flesh is the key.”
Yes, oh yes. Her knees drew up, giving him more access to her clit, her mind lost in a fog of lust and desire so strong, she couldn’t think past what his fingers were doing to her.
Daniel had never been this close to her. Never touched her there.
One finger dared to dip inside her cunt, swirling around the moist interior, launching a maelstrom of sensations across body. He drew the wet digit upward to stroke her clit, lightly at first, flicking and teasing. Pressing his finger deeper into her cunt, he slipped in and out smoothly, lubricated by her juices.
“Don’t,” she cried. Her belly tightened, her heels dug into the bed, lifting her ass off the feathered mattress. When his swirling finger stilled, she cried again, “Don’t stop!”
His finger stroked and flicked, raising the tension in her to a screaming pitch. Just as she teetered on the edge of exploding, he stopped. “Tessa said it drove a woman mad to stroke her with your fingers, but even more so with your tongue.”
She shivered from toe to chin, her body afire with anticipation. When his tongue touched the tip of her clit, Julia cried out loud, straining against the leather straps. Instead of pushing him away, she wanted to slide her hands through his wavy brown hair and pull him closer.
His tongue toyed with her, flicking, stroking and teasing her until she thought she would fall apart in a million pieces. Then his lips closed over her and he sucked her into his mouth. One of his fingers pushed into her pussy and then another, then two more until all four fingers fit snugly inside.
She wanted more. Her hips rose and lowered to the rhythm of his strokes. Balancing on a tightrope of tension so rigid that she thought she would surely fly off, she rode his fingers and tongue, reveling in the glory of the most incredible orgasm she’d ever experienced. As she tumbled back to the bed, another kind of ache built deep inside. She wanted him to fill her, to fuck her like tomorrow would never come. “No one has ever done that to me,” she admitted, her voice a whisper of awe.
“And likely no one ever will again. I consider myself somewhat of an expert.”
“Huh. Likely every man Tessa fucked is an expert. What makes you so special?”
He swiped his tongue across her clit.
All the tension she’d felt a moment before flared back to life. “All right, all right. You’ve made your point.” The sensations didn’t subside, instead they built into an aching need only his thick cock could fill. “Fuck me, cowboy,” she whispered, feeling more like Tessa than Julia and savoring the freedom of it.
Richard climbed up her body and hovered over her, his chest hairs rubbing against her nipples. “What did you say?”
Too far gone to care how brazen she sounded, she said it again only louder this time. “Oh for Pete’s sake, fuck me, cowboy.” Then she leaned forward and bit into his bottom lip, dragging him down so that she could kiss him.
His tongue pushed past her lips and skimmed across her teeth. When she opened her mouth, he dove in, dueling with her tongue in the same sensuous way he’d brought her pussy to life.
She could taste her essence on his lips and the fire inside blazed to a molten fury.
With his cock poised against the entrance to her pussy, he paused. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes, damn it.” Was that her voice? The sexy growl deep in her throat? “Fuck me, cowboy.”
“Tsk, tsk. Such a filthy mouth for a lady.” His kissed her hard and dug his tongue deep into her mouth. “A tasty, sweet, but filthy mouth. Say it again.”
“Fuck me, cowboy.” She tugged against the restraints, wanting to grab his ass and pull him into her. When the bindings didn’t give, she reached her legs around his waist and tightened until he entered her in a long, easy slide through her slick channel. The deeper he went, the more she wanted of him. When he came to rest, his balls against her ass, she held him there, pressing her heels into his buttocks. His cock filled her so full that the walls of her pussy stretched deliciously.
How could she love sex with a stranger—a man who held her captive? Who was the woman who’d sprung to life in Julia’s body? Surely not the sexually dissatisfying wife of a dead gambler. No, this was a woman alive with sensuality and needs she hadn’t even known existed. Until a cowboy held her captive and showed her the way.
Chapter Three
Her warmth cocooned his cock, wrapping it in sleek, moist heat. His body moved in and out to the natural rhythm of mating. He’d wanted her since he first saw her in the garden, but never dreamed he’d be this far this fast. Having been thrown from his horse wasn’t nearly as unsettling as being thrown by this little bandit. She’d captured his lust, his imagination and threatened to capture even more.
He told himself he only wanted to stay with her to make sure the injury from her fall was nothing serious. But the truth was that although she was his captive, he felt as if he was the
one caught. Trapped in a web of desire so strong he couldn’t be pulled from its silken strands. Now that he was captured, he didn’t want the night to end. Didn’t want to let his little bandit go when morning came.
He drove into her, slamming his cock as deep as it would go and pulled away. Each time, her legs tightened around him, bringing him back to fill her. She rose to meet his every thrust, leading him deeper until he tumbled over the edge in an explosive orgasm, his cock throbbing, aching, thrilling to the exquisite glove of her pussy clenched around him. When his arms threatened to buckle, he dropped to the mattress beside him.
“You made me lose my head.” His finger trailed over her breast and he leaned over to press a kiss to its tip. He wanted to do this again and again, to wake in the middle of the night and take her, to lie beside her in the early morning hours, waking her with his need, making her scream out his name in passion. The night could not end until she promised to be there in the morning. Every morning. “Marry me tomorrow, Bandit.”
A long silence followed his blurted proposal. For a moment, Richard second-guessed his rash offer. Was he thinking with his dick? He shook his head, remembering the woman in the garden and the instant attraction he’d felt for her, even before he’d witnessed the luscious body or tasted of the fruits she’d hidden beneath the pale blue gown at the Clancy’s ball. Deep inside, he knew without a doubt that Julia Blackmon was the woman for him. He held his breath, awaiting her response.
“No,” she finally said, her voice a mere whisper.
His hand pressed against her breast. Had he misread her response to his lovemaking? Did she not desire him as much as he did her? No. She could not have faked her passion, her abandon and sexy words. “Why won’t you marry me?”
She cupped his face in her palm and graced him with a sad smile. “You don’t love me and I don’t know if I love you.”
Pain sliced through his heart at her words. So he’d only known her a few short hours. What did he expect? Love at first sight? Undying devotion because a tumble in the bed? Anger dulled his senses. “Perhaps neither of one of us loves the other, but I need a bride and you’ll do.” That didn’t come out exactly as he’d intended, but it was out there nonetheless.
She sputtered, a look of disbelief crossing her pretty face. “I’ll do?” She jerked her body away from his hand. “Let me go this instant and don’t ever touch me again!” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I’ll do? You arrogant bastard.”
Disappointment and anger tempered his lust. What had he done so wrong that she’d turn away from him now? Didn’t she know what a catch he was? Did she not know how much land and money he had? Hadn’t every woman in the Clancy house wanted to marry him last night? Well, damn it, he wanted her and he’d by God have her.
She’d come around in time. But for now, he didn’t have time to spare. “You’ll marry me tomorrow or…”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll turn you over to the sheriff as the Black Bandit.”
She scooted across the bed as far away as she could get, given the bindings on her wrists. “I’m not the Black Bandit. I just dressed like him to scare you into giving me your valuables.”
“And who will the sheriff believe? Me, the one who’d been knocked from his horse and robbed? Or you, the woman disguised as a man wearing a black mask? Marry me or I’ll turn you in.”
She stared across the mattress, wishing she could pull the sheet up over her naked body. “You wouldn’t!”
He crossed his arms over his muscular and equally naked chest. “Look, I need a bride tomorrow. Either you show up at the wedding ready to say ‘I do’ or I go to the sheriff with the truth.”
* * * * *
She’d fallen asleep still tied to the headboard. Some time in the wee hours, Richard had joined her, curving his body against hers, fitting her to him like she belonged. Too tired to protest, she let him. But naked skin against naked skin did nothing for sleep and everything for another exciting romp. She’d spent the remainder of the dark hours making love to a stranger. Some time before dawn, she’d fallen asleep and he’d untied her wrists. Instead of running like any self-righteous, pious woman, she’d curled against him, her hands rubbing over his chest as she dreamed of making love with a handsome cowboy. She awoke spooned against him, his cock nudging her bottom, hard and ready.
Before she could remember that she was mad at him for proposing so carelessly, he’d turned her over and claimed her lips, stroking her skin first with his hands and then his tongue. One tantalizing inch at a time, he eased down her body, lapping at her skin, flicking and nipping a trail of desire down to her very core.
He made love to her and the sun rose along with their passion. They came together as though they belonged. Which she knew they didn’t, but she conveniently chose to ignore. When his knees nudged her thighs apart, she more than willingly opened to him, taking him into her without a qualm.
And why not? He was a man, she was a woman old enough to know her mind and a widow seasoned in the ways of men and women. Well, not so seasoned she couldn’t learn a thing or two from the well-versed cowboy.
When he thrust into her, she met him halfway, her back arching off the mattress, her pussy cloaking him in a sheath of creamy, pulsing nerves.
He drove deeper, taking her to the brink, shattering her into a million sparkling shards of exquisite sensations. But before Richard could release, Julia rolled him to his back and mounted him, riding him like a bucking bronco.
When she came, her body rejoiced. She’d always wanted to be on top, had heard whispers of women who’d dared to be so brazen and it was all she’d hoped for, if not a bit more work.
On top, she had the control, she could determine how deep and fast to take him. And he let her assume command, telling him just what she wanted. When she peaked and tumbled over the edge of orgasm, she fell against his chest, flushed, a sheen of perspiration making her skin glow in the early morning light.
Richard laughed. “I take it you’ve never been on top before, either?”
She pinched his nipple hard.
“Ouch!” He grabbed her hand and held it away from his chest.
“It’s not nice to gloat,” she pouted.
“Ah but I was only pointing out a fact.” He kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to the side of his unshaven face. “You didn’t learn much with your husband.”
“No, I did not.” And she wanted to learn so much more from Richard, but all too soon the time came for her to leave.
After she’d dressed in the clothes he’d loaned her from his mother’s chest, Julia realized she couldn’t ride the stallion home. Not in a dress and not in her bandit clothes in broad daylight. Forced to accept his offer to deliver her to her house in a shiny black buggy, she went along, pasting what she hoped was a mutinous expression on her face and hoping no one saw her as they drove into town in the early hours of the morning. Not that she cared too much. She did live on the edge of the small community with hardly a soul who cared about her comings and goings. Still, some old biddy was bound to see them and spread the word.
With a population as small as Mule Ear’s, the gossip would flame quicker than a wildfire in July. They’d possibly demand that he marry her and then what? He’d get what he wanted. A wife to save his land, not to love, honor and cherish—things she’d sworn meant more than money or saving her house.
Her blood boiled every time she thought of his proposal. How dare he threaten her? And how stupid she’d been to fall back into his arms after such a back-handed offer of marriage. Of course, she’d had no intention of accepting his “offer”. But the more she thought about the proposal, the madder she made herself. She refused to speak to him once they climbed into the buggy, dredging up as much indignation as she could, even though her pussy ached from all the lovemaking they’d done and she still wanted to do. Well, no more. Once he dropped her at her house, she’d be done with him.
When they turned west instead of east, a niggl
e of doubt crept over her. Not that she remembered which way they’d come. He’d carried her unconscious to his house on the prairie from the trail where she’d attempted to rob him. She hoped he knew where he was going, because she sure as shootin’ didn’t. When the road all but disappeared, becoming nothing more than a trail, she knew they weren’t headed back to Mule Ear.
“Is this the right direction?” She swiveled in her seat, turning back toward his family homestead. “Shouldn’t we be headed east?”
“We will, soon enough.” He slapped the reins across the horses backs and clicked his tongue. The team leaped into a trot, throwing her against him. “I wanted to show you something first.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to hold onto him as they bounced over the rough terrain. “I want to go back to town, immediately.” She didn’t want him to show her anything but his backside as he left. The buggy bounced and she grabbed onto his thigh to keep from falling off. As soon as she got her balance back, she let go, her skin flushed. Beads of sweat accumulated across the back of her neck, having nothing to do with the warmth of the late summer day.
Despite Richard’s ultimatum and threat to turn her over to the sheriff, Julia still wanted him. His knee and shoulder bumped against her over several rough spots, sending raging desire ripping through her body.
Damn him!
Didn’t she have enough troubles keeping the banker from claiming her house to pay for her husband’s debts? If she lost her house, where would she and Fiona go? The obvious choice was to go along with Richard’s disagreeable proposal. At least she’d have a roof over her head.
But he’d been so callous, as if she were nothing better than a whore. Damn it, she wasn’t a tramp to be bought and paid for by a promise of land and a rich husband! Then again, she’d acted like a whore, giving in to his ever-so-convincing seduction. So she was a widow and, as a widow, she didn’t have to remain celibate like a virgin maiden. She had needs, just like men had needs.