Her Only Desire

by Delilah Devlin

  Boone trailed a finger down one flushed lip, following it downward then dipping into the top of her folds to skim her clit. The nub was hardening, and the next swirl had her rising on her tiptoes to lift herself higher, inviting his attention there.

  “I have cameras in this room, Tilly,” he said, dropping his voice while he continued to swirl on her clit. “I watched you sneak in here. Watched you sit in my chair and close your eyes while you sniffed the leather. I wanted to bend you over my knee right that very minute.”

  Her entire body shuddered, but she held still.

  Liking the fact she hadn’t spoken, that she was keeping to his rules, he pressed a fingertip on her clit.

  Her back bowed, lifting her chest from the desk. When he removed his finger from her folds, she drooped again with a soft sob.

  “Jonesy didn’t take you into the cabins. Do you know why?” he asked, smoothing a hand over her warmed rump again.

  She cleared her throat. “I assumed they hadn’t been renovated yet, sir.”

  “I told him to keep you away, because I didn’t want you shocked by what you might see. Each is uniquely equipped.” He traced the other swollen lip, his own breaths deepening, his arousal tightening his belly. “There’s one dedicated to spanking. I might take you there. I have floggers I’d love to use to stripe your ass. A padded bench I’d love to bend you over.”

  A whoosh of air released through her mouth. She groaned and bent her forehead to touch the wood.

  Smiling softly, he tapped her clit. “I have one light flogger in my desk. I’m going to test it on your pretty ass.”

  After she jerked, he pressed on one buttock, holding her down, and bent to slide open a drawer. A deerskin flogger lay inside. He gripped the handle and laid the flanges on her shoulders, rubbing them across then trailing down her spine.

  Because she wasn’t fighting him, he dropped his hand from her buttock. Stepping behind her, he trailed the suede strands up the backs of her thighs and over her flushed pussy.

  Boone stepped farther back, giving himself room, hoping too that the distance and the fact he wasn’t touching her smooth creamy backside, would give him back a little control. His cock was thick and heavy, poking at his pant leg. More than anything, he wanted to free it, wanted to sink inside her slick, hot cunt. Instead, he raised his arm to the side and swung across her buttocks, striking the right side.

  She didn’t jolt, didn’t cry out. The deerskin was the softest flogger he had, and a perfect place to begin building her tolerance and hunger for more. As he stroked her bottom in steady, side-to-side motions, he welcomed the constant motion and the calming affect it had on his sharp edges. Tilly’s passivity, the evidence of her growing arousal, were everything he’d hoped for.

  * * *

  Each stroke of the lashed implement he wielded warmed and soothed Tilly’s fiery bottom and mind. Awash in sweet sensation, her pleasure built to a slow crescendo. She lay acquiescent, her mind drifting to last night’s pleasures.

  Boone filled her thoughts. His large, hard frame, his thick molten cock churning relentlessly inside her. She couldn’t help the groan that leaked between her lips, or the shudder that racked her torso.

  Again and again, he stuck her bottom, her thighs; occasionally he gave gentler strokes that padded against her pussy. She was wet and swollen, her body readying to be taken. If only he would.

  When suddenly the strokes stopped, she held her breath, hoping he wasn’t finished with her, because she needed release. Her body ached for it.

  She heard his body settling into the soft leather chair, the whir of the wheels as he rolled closer to her spread legs. Hands cupped her buttocks, thick digits slid into her soaked slit, fingering the edges of her inner labia. Then one pushed inside her entrance.

  She gasped. “The cameras,” she whispered, then bit her lip because he’d said she couldn’t speak. “Sir,” she added, but she knew she’d made a mistake and hoped he’d overlook it because she couldn’t bear for him to stop touching her.

  “Serge is no doubt watching us now, but he can only see your side. He can’t see what I see,” he said, stroking over her slit. “Are you sore, Tilly? I was rough with you last night.”

  She wanted to lie, because she didn’t want him to stop doing more. “A little, sir,” she said softly.

  Fingers parted her folds. Breath gusted against her wet open flesh. His pointed tongue entered her.

  Good Lord, she’d never had a man do that before, and the action was excruciating in its intimacy. What was he feeling? Did he like the way she tasted? Tempted to close her legs out of embarrassment, she suffered through several moments while her thighs quaked.

  He withdrew and then pushed inside again.

  This time her pussy clenched, trying to capture his tongue. She wanted to tell him to use his fingers, to fuck her with his cock, to hell with what Serge might see, but held still. She sensed he was testing her, seeing whether she could control her emotions and her responses. Wishing she knew for sure what he wanted, she kept silent.

  “I’m going to make you come. Will that please you?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, her voice tightening with rising excitement, hoping he’d fuck her, ready to beg, but she bit back the extra encouragement.

  A drawer slid open and closed. Then something cold pushed inside her. Something considerably smaller than his thick fingers. Something that felt heavy. Something metallic? A hum sounded and then vibrated inside her. She sucked in a deep breath and held it.

  His fingers pinched her clit. “Listen to me, Tilly. Can you do that? Can you concentrate for a second?”

  She nodded vigorously. “Y-yes, sir,” she said, her throat closing, the tension in her body expanding, curling in her womb.

  He pinched her again, hard. And her bottom jerked.

  “You can’t come until I say so. That’s a rule as well. Try very hard to please me.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, her voice rising. Her head felt light. She clamped her jaws shut, because she didn’t know if she could do this, not with the delicious vibrations hitting just the right spot inside her.

  His breath blew against her moist folds. His tongue stroked through them, then back down. He tapped her clit with his tongue, used a rough finger to draw back the hood. Just the air hitting the hot little bundle of nerves nearly made her come unglued. Her thighs quivered.

  “This will be tough,” he murmured. “But do what you have to do. Make some noise. Bite that pretty mouth. Just don’t you come until I say so.”

  She expelled a hard gust of air. Released from silence, she moaned. “Jesus, sweet God, Boone, please.” Tilly moaned again, then rubbed her chest on the desk, soothing her nipples with the smooth wood. Her thighs went rigid, her pussy convulsed. She was getting close, so close.

  Then his mouth latched around her clit, drawing on it, his tongue lashing the top of the knot with his tongue inside his mouth.

  The sensation was exquisite agony. The small metal egg inside her began to pulse, felt as though it was rolling inside her, striking the spot again and again. His mouth pulled on her clit, forcing it erect. The suctioning so strong, he pulled it into his mouth, his lips sliding around the small base.

  She screamed. At the edge of torment, Tilly couldn’t ignore the sensual pressure building in her core. She had to come. It had to be now.

  He released her clit and she sank, gasping for air.

  “When I squeeze your knee, you can come, baby. Wait for it.”

  And then he was sucking her clit again, pulling it hard, his teeth nicking it, causing her to jerk. The little rounded knot was thick, hard, so sensitive that each draw sent electrical pulses straight to her womb. Her channel rippled, her cunt pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

  She couldn’t stand it, couldn’t resist. Sliding her hands beneath her, she cupped her breasts, needing the comfort and then pinching her nipples to try to hold back.

  A hand slid around her knee and squeezed.

  T
illy arched off the desk and shouted as her orgasm exploded outward from her clit, rippling through her vagina, shivering over her buttocks and thighs. Shock held her erect for a long dizzying moment, and then she collapsed, her heated body pressed against the cool wood desk.

  The vibrations slowed, lulling her. His lips relaxed, his tongue stroking her bared knot in wet, soothing laps, until, at last, she lay limply, her hands still hugging her breasts.

  She closed her eyes and let out one last reedy moan.

  Kisses landed on her pussy and covered her inner thighs, her bottom. Hands gripped her waist and pulled her up. Boone turned her, sliding her over his lap, her capris and undies dangling from one lolling foot.

  With a strong arm, he held her against his chest and stroked her belly, between her legs, providing a brand of intimate comfort she’d never experienced from a man. Then fingers entered her and tugged on the small egg. He placed it on his desk, and she pushed her face into the corner of his neck, because the whitish fluid that coated it embarrassed her. After everything that he’d done, that she’d accepted, she knew the reaction was silly, but she hid.

  “No showering.” Boone pressed a kiss against her ear. “No changing your clothes. Not until tonight. I want your panties wet and sticky.”

  She groaned. “I’ll smell.”

  “No one but you will notice. But I’ll know you’re uncomfortable. When you see me, you’ll blush. When you’re thinking about that lovely orgasm, I want you to lower your gaze.”

  “Will your men know? Is this something you always do?”

  “No, it’s a new rule. Just for you.” The corner of his eyes crinkled. “Lower your gaze. Wait for me to come to you. I’ll touch you. Not anything that will cause anyone else to know what we’ve been up to, but you and I will know.”

  She’d said he used this kind of play to create a connection. Now she understood how right she’d been. Every time she lowered her eyes, she’d be thinking of her hot bottom and the pleasure he’d given her with his mouth.

  With a slow move, she bent back her head to look at his lips.

  “Do you want a kiss?”

  Her gaze flitted up to his eyes.

  His blue gaze was glinting.

  “Yes, sir.” She wrinkled her nose. “You ask me questions just because you like hearing me say that, don’t you?”

  A smile curved his mouth, and blue eyes reflected a smoky heat. “I do. You please me, Tilly Floret.”

  “But you didn’t take your own pleasure.”

  He sighed and tightened his embrace, pressing her down on his erection. “That’s my penance for my lack of control.”

  Drawing her eyebrows together, she frowned.

  She thought he’d shown a great deal of control, taking care with her body to the exclusion of his own orgasm. But before she could ask what he meant, he tapped her nose.

  “I’m sending someone around to your brother’s group house to do an assessment. We’ll want to know how best to integrate him here.”

  Tilly sighed. If the moment wasn’t already perfect enough…“I’m sorry if this is getting complicated—my problems shouldn’t become yours.”

  Boone shook his head. “I wouldn’t be taking them on if I didn’t want to. I’m not a selfless man, Tilly. Don’t go thinking there’s more to me than what you know.”

  His warning didn’t convince her. Boone had a softer center than he let the world see. His care with her proved it. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. “I don’t know how this will work is all. I want you. But I don’t know how Denny will fit. How I’ll manage to keep him out of trouble.”

  “Leave it to me, Tilly. I’m not without resources. When there’s something I want as much as I want you, I’ll move mountains.”

  She grunted, fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt. “There are no mountains in the bayou, Boone,” she muttered.

  His chuckle shook her, and she smiled, happy to let him ease her worries, if only for a while.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The moment Tilly let herself out of his office, Boone went to the hidden door and entered the room where Serge sat, his feet propped on the desk.

  Serge glanced his way and smirked. “Don’t worry, boss. I turned off the feed the second you pulled down her panties.” He cleared his throat, still not looking Boone’s way. “Didn’t see a thing.”

  Boone gave him a glare, but couldn’t manage to muster a reproach. He was still too hard to think straight. He shook his head to clear the memories of what he’d just done. “Anything from Alejandro?”

  Serge grunted. “Said the tracking device took them to Cancun then headed west into the jungle. Must have either found it or changed bags, because the signal stopped a few miles in. He has a team scrambling to pick up the signal from their last location and see if any of the locals can be bribed into committing suicide by ratting out the Omegas.” He shook his head in disgust. “Rotten business, that. Families will be lucky to get their bodies back for a proper funeral.”

  Boone’s body tightened. Serge tended to see the bleak side of things, but Boone’s business was to create miracles. “We still have leverage. That final payment. They’ll keep them alive at least that long. In the meantime, we’ll grease some palms and see what might shake loose in Mexico City. Someone knows something. I don’t like trusting they’ll hold to the deal. They’re a ruthless bunch.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “The handoff, if we can get them to agree on something public, will be tricky.”

  Serge nodded, and then gave him a sly sideways look. “You really like that girl.”

  Boone didn’t respond. Fact was, he did like Tilly. Liked her sense of humor, her wide-eyed curiosity, and especially how she’d responded to him just now.

  When Boone answered, Serge gave a soft whistle. “Never thought I’d see the day. Was sure you’d marry some stuck-up cover model who’d bore you to tears and maybe agree to a kid or two so long as you paid for the plastic surgery to make her perfect again. I like Tilly.”

  Boone settled into the chair beside Serge and sighed. “I hear a ‘but.’”

  “Maybe it’s not the right time, boss. And maybe there’s more to Tilly than we know.”

  Boone gave him a questioning look.

  “That folder Jonesy found. I know he mailed photos to your phone. She’s been keeping it for years. It’s a little strange. Something that terrible happened to her cousin, you’d think she’d want to forget, but she’s obsessed with you and the murder.” His brows drew together. “You don’t find that disturbing?”

  “If I’d known that before I’d met her, maybe. I know she’s keeping secrets, but she’s not very good at it. She doesn’t have a secretive nature. Whatever she’s withholding is eating her up.” His gaze locked with Serge’s. “My hope is that once she trusts me, she’ll confide.”

  Serge’s mouth puckered, then drew into a straight line. “Like I said, I like her. And you know I don’t like many people. Just keep a little emotional distance. At least until you find out what she’s keeping from you.”

  Giving him a vague nod, Boone settled into the seat beside Serge and dialed Alejandro in Monterrey. Anything but think about the fact Tilly might be lying. His stomach roiled at the thought. Whatever she was hiding, whatever she might be involved in, he hoped he’d be able to protect her. Her safety came first. But when all this was over, he hoped his faith in her would still be intact.

  * * *

  Tilly didn’t seek out Jonesy right away. She stopped by her cottage for her phone. Boone’s mention of Denny brought a jolting reminder that she hadn’t spoken to him for a couple of days, so she checked her messages. Nothing from him. And only one missed call. From Mae.

  She stared at the number, feeling guilty over the way she’d left the woman high and dry. The only way to make it right was head to town and stop in at the restaurant. She dreaded seeing the older woman face-to-face and could already picture the condemnation in her dark eyes.
>
  Mae had been good to her. Good to Denny. When Denny had still been living in Bayou Vert, she’d hired him as a busboy and dishwasher. Simple tasks he could perform, although Mae had to stand over him to see he did things right.

  Denny had been pumped about having a job and a paycheck. He hadn’t understood that the wages didn’t go far enough to pay their bills and save their home. He’d thought he was rich because he had a check to bring home every week.

  Thankfully, the garage door opened without requiring a secret decoder ring. Climbing into her car, she smiled, thinking about Denny’s pride over his pitiful paycheck, and missing her fuzzy bear. His hugs were uncomplicated, filled with unconditional love. Tilly hated that her relationship with Denny, at least from her side, was tarnished by the discovery of the bracelet. It ate her up inside that she couldn’t ask about where he’d found it. First, because she didn’t want to know whether he was the one responsible for Celeste’s death, although she couldn’t picture it. Sure, Denny did throw tantrums. And with his size and strength, but without the ability to hold back, she recognized full well the possibility existed that he could have lashed out at Celeste, who’d always goaded and teased him mercilessly. But where had he gotten the knife? It wasn’t something he’d have carried around with him. And if he’d slashed her, he wouldn’t have thought to hide it. He’d have panicked and said something���to someone. Wouldn’t he?

  Second, she couldn’t ask him because whatever Denny got into his head, he repeated over and over. He’d never mentioned the bracelet, and might well have forgotten how he’d come to have it. Yes, he asked about his treasure box, but she didn’t think any one of his treasures meant more than the other. If she asked him pointedly about the one bracelet, he’d never shut up about it, and might mention it to someone who would recognize its significance, just as she had the moment she’d picked it up and held it to the light.

  A delicate charm bracelet with golden bells attached and tiny hoppers that tinkled against the insides of the bells as the bracelet moved. Celeste had worn it in her prom photo. Worn it when she’d posed with the homecoming court, wearing her queen’s crown and looking radiant in a royal blue gown as she stood beside a tall and lanky Boone.