Mattias is stern and bossy, but his touch relaxes me. I find myself sinking down in the tub, letting him take my weight.
“Good girl,” he praises, his hand slowly drifting up my inner thigh.
I feel that clenching sensation again, this time lower still, between my legs. His hand slides away just before it reaches the apex. I am left wondering if he did that on purpose, before his hand slides under my hip and then down my leg and over again to trace the same path, this time all the way up to the core of me. He presses two fingers against my lower lips, a jolt of pure electricity running through me as our eyes meet.
“What are you doing?”
“Does it feel good?”
It does feel good, but I don’t want to admit that. I am a captive of the sheriff. This man has me to get me ready for sale, whatever
