The Wicked West (3 page)

“Didn’t I tell you to close that damn window?” he growled.

Mrs. Anders gasped and surged to her feet.

He moved past her and slammed the window down so hard that an ominous crack sounded. “I warned you,” he seethed, jerking the curtains shut.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he shouted, rounding on her. “You’re sorry you couldn’t obey one simple command?”

“Yes.” She started to nod, but then the direction of the movement changed and she was shaking her head. “No, actually. No, I’m not sorry.”

Hale froze. “Excuse me?”

Her chin rose. So did her gaze. Suddenly, she was staring right at him, eyes flashing defiance. “I’m not sorry. It’s not illegal to brush my hair. What can you possibly do about it?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I can let every man in this town know that you like to be watched while you fuck yourself. Then we’d see how fast you haul your ass back to England.”

She flinched a little, but her chin didn’t budge. “And I could let the women know how you like to stroke your cock while you spy through the neighbors’ windows.”

“You little witch,” he growled. He was furious now, but when he took a step toward her, he recognized the lust that flashed in her eyes. She wasn’t afraid. This meek little thing was
goading
him into a dangerous temper. “Why are you doing this?”

Her rapid breaths pushed her breasts up into tight mounds above the edge of her corset. This close, he could make out the darker shadow of her nipples beneath the gauzy fabric of her shift.

“Because I want it.”

“You want
what?
”

“Y-you,” she breathed, the word shaking from her lips. “You and your rough hands.”

“Jesus Christ, lady. Are you kidding me? Is this some sort of fantasy about being taken by a brutish, uncivilized American?” The truth was surprisingly painful. He reached for her, finally, wrapping his crude American hands around her soft arms.

“No!” She blinked in shock. “It’s not that.”

“You want it rough?” he demanded. “You want to find out what it feels like to be fucked by a man who’s not
soft?
”

He’d thought to shock her into sensibility. He thought she’d begin to cry and struggle. Instead, she swallowed hard and nodded. That was the moment he remembered the way she’d gripped her own neck to gain her pleasure. “There’s something wrong with you,” he growled, and she nodded again. The admission gleamed in her eyes. There was something wrong with her, and unlike Hale, she wasn’t afraid to confront it.

Was it possible that she really wanted what he wanted? Could she be just as screwed up as he was? A dark hope bloomed inside him, blotting out most of his good sense. “Get on your knees,” he said firmly. When her face softened with gratitude, Hale couldn’t believe it. She looked thankful that he’d given such a crude suggestion. His cock throbbed painfully as she sank slowly to her knees.

When she reached the floor, she folded her hands primly in her lap and watched him.

“What’s your Christian name?”

“Lily.”

Lily. Of course. The perfect name for this beautiful flower of a woman. “Lily,” he said, feeling the taste of her name on his tongue. “Touch me.”

She did. Without further prompting, she reached up and fit her hand to the ridge in his trousers. She dragged her fingers gently over him for a few passes, then pressed more firmly as she rubbed. The touching felt good, but the picture she presented ratcheted his pleasure to dangerous heights.

“Now,” he rasped, “the buttons.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” she responded, her English tongue curving the words, and something sharp cut its way through his insides.
Yes, Sheriff.
That was what he wanted to hear as her hand opened the buttons before slipping inside to curl around his cock. She glanced at him, and when he nodded, she drew it free of his clothing.

That was the moment when his last tie of restraint snapped. Seeing Lily Anders on her knees, her fine, pale hand wrapped around his dusky sex, her eyes watching him past dark lashes…This was heaven. And the very blasphemy of the thought only made it more true.

Hale wound her hair around his hand, then tightened his fingers into a fist. “You know what I want, Lily.”

She nodded, the movement tight against his knuckles.

“So do it.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” she breathed, joy blooming across her face on a flush of color.

He wrapped his free hand around his shaft, and guided her closer. Lily’s lips parted and her tongue touched him. She lapped at him once, and then again, eager little movements that made his hand shake.

“More,” he ordered, and she slipped the head against the flat of her tongue and took him inside.

Yes, this was heaven. A place of such beauty, he couldn’t have imagined it before. Lily whimpered with pleasure as she slid him deep into her throat. When Hale squeezed his fingers, tightening his hold on her hair, she moaned, and as she moaned, she worked him, sliding up and down his shaft in a rhythm he set with the pressure of his hand.

“Damn,” he murmured. “Damn it, you’re perfect.” A shiver seemed to melt over her as he wound his fingers way too tightly in her hair.

Her moan vibrated over his shaft as she pressed closer, so close he could feel her throat tighten against him. “Lily,” he gasped. He eased her up and then back down, just as deep. “Yes, baby. That’s it. A little more. Just a little…That’s right.”

She raised her hands to clutch at his thighs and pressed him deeper into her throat.

Hale growled in shocked pleasure. “You love this, don’t you? More. Take more.” She did, pressing her lips all the way to the base of his shaft, and Hale couldn’t hold back any longer.

When he came, Lily swallowed hungrily, then licked at his cock when he let go of her hair. She licked as if she’d been starving for the taste of his seed for years. Hale watched in stunned lethargy. She had wanted this, maybe even more than he had. She’d wanted him to
make
her do this with crude words and harsh treatment.

Common sense returned to his brain, and Hale stepped back in horror. He’d done it. Exposed his secret to a complete stranger. Revealed the part of himself he never even acknowledged.

As he retreated, tucking himself back inside his trousers, Hale knew he was behaving with unforgivable rudeness. It was one thing to use a woman so cruelly, and something entirely different to leave her kneeling on the floor afterward. But he couldn’t look at her any longer.

Hale turned on his heel and walked out.

Twelve full hours in the saddle, and neither Hale nor his deputies had come across even a trace of the rustlers. Layton’s men had found a cold campfire, but Hale couldn’t tell if it had burned two nights before or two weeks. There just hadn’t been enough rain this month.

His guilt hadn’t made his journey any lighter, and the air grew denser with every step his pony took. He could see his house from the stable door, and Mrs. Anders’s home just beyond it. He had to force himself to move his feet in that direction.

“Sheriff,” the banker murmured as he passed by, touching a hand to his hat in greeting. Hale nodded in response, thankful Mr. Johnson wasn’t in a talkative mood. This town was small, and Hale loved that, but sometimes the closeness could be oppressive. Especially for him. He was embraced by the community, but held above it in a way. No one wanted their sheriff to be truly human. They needed him to be braver, tougher, and far more decent than the average man.

Little did they know.

Shit. He needed whiskey badly, but he was too tired to head for the saloon. The bottle he kept under his bed would have to do.

It wasn’t just guilt weighing him down. It was fear. Fear like he’d never known while staring down the barrel of an outlaw’s gun. Facing death was one thing. But if Mrs. Anders breathed a word about this to anyone, he’d lose his good name and the memory of every honorable thing he’d ever done for these people. And he’d likely have to leave town, so he’d lose his home, too.

Still, he hadn’t taken it too far. Half the men in the county had probably ordered one of the local whores to get on her knees and open her mouth. Perhaps not the actions of an honorable man, but hardly proof of perversion. And she was no one here. Any rumors she started would be taken with a grain of salt…until people started to wonder exactly why Marie had left.

As he stepped up onto his porch, studiously avoiding looking toward Lily’s home, Hale set his jaw. He’d slipped up, but it hadn’t been a disaster. Hell, there wasn’t even a chance of pregnancy. If he could keep from visiting her again and she kept her mouth shut, he could count this as a hard lesson and move on, scot-free.

This thing was over. He’d tell Lily Anders in the morning.

After another cold dinner and a colder bath, Hale headed upstairs, trying not to anticipate what he might find in the window next door. It didn’t matter if she was sprawled out naked on her bed, aiming all the interesting parts in his direction; he wasn’t going over.

He steeled his jaw as he stepped through the door. Girded his loins and whatever the hell else he was supposed to do. Then he looked toward the window and found only darkness.

Hale stalked across the room and looked out. There was Lily’s window, and there was light behind it, but she’d drawn the curtains closed. Only thin strips of lamplight showed at the edges. She’d shut him out.

She’d shut him out.

Panic spun through him.

The panic made no sense, of course. He’d vowed to be done with her. Likely she’d vowed to be done with him, too. But there’d been no hesitance in her the night before.

Had that brief encounter been all she’d wanted from him? That hardly seemed likely. He hadn’t offered her even a moment of pleasure in return for her attentions.

“Damn,” he muttered. That was it, then.

Hale swallowed hard, darting a glance toward the disapproving wall of drapery. He’d left her there, on her knees, used and defiled and unfulfilled. Of course she was done with him. She likely hated him.

Though he turned and moved away from the window, he couldn’t keep his back to it for long. Soon, Hale found himself pacing from his dresser to the window and back again.

He’d behaved abominably. Cruelly. And she was such a tender thing, whatever her husband might have taught her. What if she was curled up in bed, crying right now?

Hale’s secret desires had always been balanced by a genuine goodwill toward people, or so he’d hoped. Now his heart twisted at the thought that he might have hurt Mrs. Anders deeply.

Despite his intention to avoid her, he couldn’t very well leave her alone after callously ignoring her the whole day. He had no choice but to see her.

This time when he reached her door, he knocked, almost hoping she wouldn’t answer. A long minute passed, and he was thankful for the darkness that hid him from others’ eyes. If anyone saw him entering her house at this hour, any future gossip would carry more weight.

He counted to ten and was starting to turn away when the door opened.

“Sheriff Hale,” Lily breathed, her soft accent drawing a flush to his skin. Or maybe the flush was caused by the sight of that familiar dressing robe.

“Ma’am,” he answered, tipping the brim of his hat down.

“Will you come in?”

“I really…” His words died when she swept the door open and bowed her head to him. Her lovely hair was still up, bound tightly with pins. He wanted her to take it down, and she would, if he asked her. Hale’s legs moved him inside. She closed the door.

“Your hair,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Take it down.”

When her hands moved immediately to do as he asked, Hale realized what her obedience meant. She might have been angry, but she wasn’t done with this. Not by far. She drew out one pin.

“Wait.” Her hands froze. “Mrs. Anders, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I only wanted to be sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine,” she said. Her eyes flashed up to meet his for a moment. Her lips parted. “More than fine.”

Anticipation shivered through him, but he tried to tamp it down. He was only here to check on her. He cleared his throat. “But your curtains…”

“What do you mean?”

“You left them shut tonight.”

Lily nodded. “You told me to close them. I didn’t wish to displease you in any way, Sheriff Hale. Not tonight.”

“Oh. I see. You had me worried.”

She bit her bottom lip, flushing a deeper pink. “I’m so sorry.” A thick lock of her hair, freed by that one pin, fell to her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive my thoughtlessness.”

“It’s really no—”

“Let me make it up to you, Sheriff,” she interrupted on a rushed whisper. “Please.”

“There’s no need.” His words sounded muffled in his ears, probably because his throat was trying to stop them.

“Please. I
need
to.”

He meant to say no. He really did. But she’d stop if he told her to, and suddenly that was the last thing he could bear. And Lily was reaching up to free the rest of her hair. It slipped down in a slow fall, curving around her neck as if to bind her.

Hale reached out and wound some of that silken rope around his hand.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to be bad.”

His heart sped. His throat dried. “But you were.”

“Yes.” Whatever her words of regret, her eyes glowed with anticipation when she glanced up. She wanted to be punished, even for an imaginary transgression.

His resistance burned to ash.

“Take off the robe, Lily.” His own words cleared all thoughts of guilt and perversion from his mind. He wanted this so much. Wanted
her
so much. How could she be so strong and so compliant at the same time? The combination captured him as surely as any trap.

Lily untied the first ribbon, then the second, but her hands hesitated over the lace edges of the robe. He knew what she needed.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he growled.

Hesitation vanished, her hands spread the robe, and she dropped it, revealing nothing but bare skin.

Hale’s throat tightened until he couldn’t draw a breath. Good Lord. Her breasts were perfect. Full and firm, the nipples hardening under his gaze. Her sex was covered by curls darker than he would have expected. Nearly black against her pure white skin. He’d never seen any woman with skin so delicate and fine, and now it was laid out before him like a feast.

He turned away from her to walk to the settee in the small parlor. She waited. “Bring the lamp, Lily.”

She did as he asked, and soon she was standing nude before him, the lamp setting her skin aglow.

She’d been bad. She’d said it as plain as that. And her husband…her husband had had strict expectations. Surely there could be no doubt what she’d meant. And he had dreamed of this for so damn long.

He sat down and leaned back. “Lie down.” The words were gritty as sand, but he’d said them. She could take them how she wanted, could make her own wishes known. When she set the lamp down it clanked hard on the table, as if she were nervous, but then she put her knees on the cushion beside his legs and lay down across his lap.

Hale couldn’t hear anything past the thundering blood in his ears for a long moment. Her buttocks were smooth and taut, just begging to be touched, and he’d not touched her yet. Not really. Trembling, Hale raised his hand and laid it slowly on her body.

He spread his fingers over the yielding flesh. Lily tensed and shivered. Everything inside him drew so tight that he could feel nothing but her warmth against his palm.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, dragging his palm over her ass. “And so soft.” Her buttocks tensed beneath him. “Delicate.”

He swept down her thigh, then pressed back up to the rise of her ass.

I shouldn’t be doing this,
he thought calmly, as he lifted his hand and arced it hard toward her bottom. The first hard snap of sound cracked a dam inside him. Lily’s loud gasp pushed the floodwaters free. Pleasure roared through his veins, unlike anything he’d ever felt. Not just physical pleasure, but hot, red joy as well.

He rubbed the plump cheek, then smacked her harder. The skin blazed red beneath his fingers, and Lily squirmed, panting. “I had a long day, Lily. You shouldn’t have made me worry like that.” He slapped her again.

“I’m sorry,” she moaned. “I’m sorry, Sheriff Hale.”

His hand cracked against the white skin of the other cheek. “Sorry?”

“Yes, I swear. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make it better.”

Crack.
His cock throbbed as she wiggled against him. “How?”

“I’ll do anything, Sheriff. Anything you want.”

Yes.
That was what he’d needed to hear his whole life. “Anything, Lily? That’s a lot to ask of a proper lady like you.”

“I’m not proper!” She shook her head as his hand descended for one last crack of pain. While she groaned, Hale slipped his hand down between her clenched thighs and found her pussy soaking wet. The heat of her branded his skin as he slipped his fingertips along her folds.

“Oh, please,” she breathed.

“Do you like being spanked, Lily?”

“No!”

Hale slid his hand free and slapped her ass hard. “Don’t lie to me. You like it, don’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

Another slap. “Tell me what it does to you.”

“It makes me…” When she stumbled over the words, he snuck his hand back between her legs and slid a finger into her tight pussy. “It makes me wet,” she sobbed.

“I can tell.” He slid his finger deeper, then worked her gently until she was whimpering, her hips rising up to meet his hand. “You’re very bad.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Very unladylike. I wouldn’t do this to a lady, but you’re not a lady, are you?”

“No! I’m not. I’m not.”

She was so hot, so tight. He had to be inside her or he’d lose his mind. “Get up on your knees.
Now.
”

Lily scrambled up and he let her do the work, not offering help. Once she was kneeling on the settee, he stood and unbuckled his belt. “Face the back.”

Her eyes flashed heat as she did as she was told, turning away from him. Her flesh still glowed pink from his attentions, and Hale’s cock throbbed even harder at the sight. “Lean forward. Put your forehead to the backrest.”

“Yes, Sheriff.”

The angle spread her legs and forced her bottom higher as she pressed her hands against the back of the seat. “Tell me what you want, Lily.”

“I want you to…have me.”

“Have you how?”

“I…I want you to put it inside me.”

His balls tightened, and he stroked his palms down her hips. “You want a rough American, don’t you? A man who won’t treat you like a lady? A man who’ll use you like a whore?”

“Yes. Please, yes.”

Good. She wanted it rough. And he was pissed as hell that she’d put him in the position of giving it to her. Hale wrapped his fingers around one of her wrists and pulled it to the small of her back. Then he did the same with the other. She was fine-boned and slim, and he could easily hold both her wrists captive in one of his hands. With the other, he guided his cock to her sex and pressed it in.

“Like this, Lily?” he grunted, shoving deep into her tightness.

She screamed.

“Like this?” He fucked her hard, not giving her any time to adjust to his width.

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes, yes.”

With her forehead balanced against the back of the settee, and her arms caught tight in this grip, she was helpless to the assault. She could do nothing but take him and scream. Hale watched her clenching fists and wanted to roar with joy. He listened to her sobs and fucked her harder.

“Is this what you like, Lily? You want to be my whore?”

“I do.
Please.
I do. Oh, please, Sheriff. Make me your whore.”

He couldn’t think. Every measure of thought and feeling had sunk low in his body, as he tried to get closer to her wet, squeezing sex. He curled his other hand into her loose hair and pulled her neck taut, then held her still and drove deep into her body.

Her cry started out sharp and breathy before it broke into a loud groan. He felt the spasm of her sex on his cock and knew she was reaching her peak. She liked the pain. She liked it. Hale couldn’t stop his own climax from gathering at the base of his cock.

As soon as her jerking hips quieted against him, he let go of her hair and pulled free of her body. Stroking himself roughly, he came, spilling his seed on her back and buttocks and the fragile bones of her captured wrists. It dripped from her fingertips and slid down the small of her back.

Heat swept his body, leaving goose bumps.