Free Honor Bound: Bound and Tied, Book 1 by Myla Jackson

between her legs to coach his fingers, the other reaching out behind her to cup his ass and force him even deeper inside.
    The faster he pumped his cock and the finger stroking her folds, the more she moaned until she cried out.
    “Zach.” Spasms shook her body, her bottom rubbing against his groin.
    With one final thrust, Zach sank deep into her, his dick shuddering, pouring out his come. When the tension eased and he floated back to earth, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She was his mate. Strong, beautiful and brave—he couldn’t ask for more in a woman. She’d ventured West to start a new life, survived an Indian attack and escaped captivity to find herself captured once again by a couple of miners. Honor had what it took to make a go of life in the Rocky Mountains.
    Zach didn’t want to let go. Not now or ever. She was his and, damn it, he’d keep her! Even if he had to tie her up to do it.

Chapter Seven
    Honor stretched, slowly coming awake, her back arching off the straw mattress, her body sore from everything she’d done the night before. But when she tried to move her arms, she couldn’t. Her eyes popped open and she stared up at the ropes binding her wrists to the headboard of the rough-hewn bed.
    “What’s the meaning of this?” she called out. “Zach? Jake?”
    No one answered.
    Still naked, she stared around the interior of the log cabin. The other bed where Jake slept was empty. A fire burned in the fireplace providing sufficient warmth. The wooden shutters over the window stood open, letting the morning sunshine in. Birds sang, life went on, but Honor couldn’t move, trapped as she was in the bed.
    “Damn,” she said, amazed at how easily the curse flowed off her lips. She’d never have conceived of uttering the word in front of her husband. He probably would have beaten her or had the congregation stone her. Her hands pulled at the bindings again, twisting and turning, trying to loosen the ropes. No matter how hard she tried, the ties remained in place. “Damn.”
    Anger burned through frustration the longer she lay in the bed unable to free herself. “I’ve never been treated so badly,” she muttered. Her thighs ached, her pussy was raw from being fucked three times in a row. Parson Whitaker could only manage once a week, if that much. Even her jaw throbbed from having taken Jake’s cock in her mouth.
    Recalling the things she’d done and allowed the men to do to her, the anger faded and Honor squirmed, wishing she could touch herself down there where all the desire pooled. She wanted to run her hands along the inside of her thighs and thrust her fingers into her opening, still raw from Zach’s enormous dick sliding in and out, over and over.
    Her plans to continue her journey to San Francisco seemed but a faded memory, the reality of her uncontrollable passion overpowering her need for independence. Honor wanted to stay in the mountains and explore her body with the help of Zach and Jake.
    She moaned, her hands straining at the ropes to reach that place Zach had brought to life—that sensitive little button nestled between her folds. “Zach,” she yelled.
    Movement outside the window caught her attention. Something or someone passed in front of the cabin, casting a shadow into the room.
    “Zach?” she questioned softly. “Jake?” Her eager voice faded as the latch on the door lifted.
    Honor’s heart skipped several beats and then banged against her ribs.
    A head leaned through the doorway. But it wasn’t Zach’s dark unruly hair, nor Jake’s reddish-brown. The straight black hair belonged to Running Bear.
    Honor screamed and jerked at her hands, desperate to tear free of her bonds.
    He came to her, dressed in nothing but his breechcloth, his knife drawn.
    For a single moment, Honor thought he’d plunge it into her heart and leave her to die.
    His dark eyes flared as he stared down at her naked body. He laid the tip of his knife to her throat, the sharp