Victoria Dahl - The Wicked West

By the time she slipped her hand between the lower edges of her robe, Lily’s thighs were shaking. She left the robe closed, needing to hide that part of her until the sheriff ordered her to give him more. She didn’t even face the window as she cupped her sex and whimpered. Slipping her middle finger deeper, she rubbed that one delicious spot, imagining she did it because he’d asked her to.

“No,” she whispered, wanting to be helpless. But he wouldn’t like her saying no to him. Lily raised her other hand and gripped her throat. Squeezing the tender flesh of her neck, she rubbed her sex faster and made her body shake. Touching herself usually brought her very little pleasure, but knowing the cold sheriff was watching made it so much more.

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

When she heard a low grunt of male pleasure, Lily’s body squeezed impossibly tight. “Oh,” she whispered as her thighs shuddered around her hand. “Oh, yes.” She breathed through the spasms, drawing them out as long as she could, rubbing until her flesh grew too sensitive to bear it.

Slumping into the chair, Lily let her hand fall limp against her leg.

Surely he couldn’t deny her now. She wanted to give him everything.

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