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Not trusting her voice, she smiled and nodded.
“I’ll bet they did. Get on your knees and get me good and hard. I’ve been waiting since we caught you for this. If I hadn’t had that damn posse with me, I could have saved the town the time and expense of trying you. Hell, if my damn wife’s brother hadn’t been with us, I probably could have talked the rest of the boys into having a little fun with you before killing you.”
Lizzie sat back on her heels. She needed to figure out how to stall for time. The longer this took, the longer she gave Caelan and Gavan to find her. She suppressed a smile; they’d never let her out of their sight again, and she didn’t think she’d ever want to be without one of them in reach. She vowed to herself to do whatever she needed to do to stay alive until her husbands could get to her. The sheriff was a dead man, he just didn’t know it yet.
“If you’re going to kill me, why should I do anything that will get you hard so you can rape me?” she asked in a quiet voice.
The sheriff backhanded her.
“Because, as long as I’m enjoying myself, you get to live. Now, get back on your knees, slut, and suck my dick,” he said as he seated himself on a large rock.
Taking a deep breath and trying to clear her mind, Lizzie lifted the sheriff’s limp member from his pants. The smell of stale sweat and urine clung to him. She was a bit surprised at the size of the sheriff’s member. She’d known both Caelan and Gavan were well endowed, but the sheriff was downright dinky. Lizzie took a deep breath and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock.
“With your mouth; I can use my own hand.”
Deciding that opting for a meek and subservient attitude would serve her best, she dropped her eyes and said, “When Caelan taught me, he had me use my hands and mouth so that he had a nice firm pressure all up and down his shaft. When he wants to come, he has me focus my mouth on the head and then shoves it to the back of my throat to shoot his load down into my belly. He seemed to enjoy it that way.”
“Huh, sounds like he taught you pretty good.”
“Look, sheriff, we both know I want to stay alive. After all, I agreed to marry two men to keep from being hanged,” she said, gently stroking his staff and running her fingers around his balls, which seemed small and shriveled compared to Caelan and Gavan.
“You and I both know that’s wrong. You sound like a man with a certain kind of sexual interests that your wife might not appreciate and, being the good man that you are, you don’t force it on her. But you’re right, I’ve sinned, and I should be punished, maybe you could help me with that. I wouldn’t do anymore stealing, or rustling, no one would know where I was, and I would be available to you whenever you wanted.”
She reminded herself her life depended on making the odious man believe she wanted him and would serve him in whatever way he wanted. She vowed she would do whatever it took to stay alive, whatever it took to get back to Caelan and Gavan.
The pink tip of her tongue licked along the underside of the sheriff’s member. It stirred under her attention. Lizzie took the head of him into her mouth and swirled her tongue as she sucked, gratified when it began to straighten.
“Damn, girl.”
She gave him her best siren’s smile as she engulfed half of his length into her mouth, repressing the reflex to gag. It wasn’t his size—Gavan and Caelan were both much larger—it was the malodorous stench that emanated from his person. She grasped the remainder in her hand and used both, in concert, to pleasure him.
The sheriff closed his eyes and groaned.
Lizzie closed her eyes and tried to imagine it was one of her husbands. She moved her mouth up and down his length repeatedly; his dick continued to harden.
The sheriff reached out and stroked her hair as he looked at her, his eyes glazed over with lust.
“You are a jezebel, but it might be worth keeping you around,” he grunted as began to move his hips in rhythm to her sucking and licking.
Lizzie could feel his rod beginning to thicken and twitch.
“Whore,” he said grasping the back of her head to force it further down his length.
“You bastard!” Lizzie heard from behind her.
A bright red hole, dead set between the sheriff’s eyes appeared as he fell to the side, his dick slipping past her lips and from her grip. The last part of the expletive was drowned out by the sound of a small derringer being fired.
Lizzie spun around to see the sheriff’s pious wife holding a smoking gun, a frozen look on her face. Trying to move out of the line of fire, Lizzie crawled away from the sheriff.
“Is he dead?” the woman asked in an oddly calm tone.
“Yes ma’am,” Lizzie said, quietly. “I didn’t…”
“Of course, you didn’t, child,” she said kindly. “Do you have any clothes you can put on?”
“No ma’am. The sheriff took me when I was bathing. My husband,” she was able to stop the term from being plural, “and I thought the valley was safe from prying eyes.”
The sh
