Her Only Desire

by Delilah Devlin

  Boone straightened, withdrawing his hand and reached into his pocket, taking out a small oval vibrator and setting it on the table between his place setting and Tilly’s. He picked up his fork. “Tilly,” he said, in a soothing tone loud enough for everyone at the table to hear, “put this inside you, then eat your meal.”

  As she reached for the vibrator, her hand shook. Her head remained lowered, but she did exactly as he asked, leaning back in her chair and slipping the vibrator between her legs. When her hand came up, she wiped her fingers on her napkin then laid it on her thighs.

  Through the fabric of his pants, Boone pressed the remote, and a humming sounded.

  Her eyes closed, her mouth rounding. “I’m going to kill you, sir.”

  Laughter rang out from his men. But Manny had already begun filling glasses.

  Serge raised a glass, giving Tilly an approving glance. “Here’s to Clotille Floret, the belle of Bayou Vert. Welcome to Maison Plaisir, sugar.”

  * * *

  For Tilly, the toast and the praise she read in the rugged faces ringing the table filled her with a strange sense of accomplishment. For the first time since she’d entered the dining room, she relaxed. Pleasure at Serge’s gesture flushed her cheeks. “Y’all certainly know how to entertain a girl,” she drawled.

  Boone flashed her a smile and lifted his own glass. “To your courage. My men appreciate that in a woman, even if she’s not theirs to enjoy.”

  Warmth flooded her body. She wished she’d had enough courage to ask if she was truly his. The thought of belonging to him caused a deep yearning to tighten her chest. “I’d be flattered, but I wonder how many times this scene has played out.”

  “Funny you should use that word,” Serge murmured, raising his eyebrows.

  She didn’t understand his meaning, but the amusement the men shared was a palpable thing. Just as their tension radiated from their thick chests and arms. Lord, a woman could drown in the testosterone floatin’ in this room.

  She didn’t realize she’d said her thought aloud until Bear choked beside her. Reaching behind him, she patted his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  He cleared his throat and threw her a scowl. “I’m fine, ma’am.”

  “Since I’m callin’ you all by your first names, and you’ve been starin’ at my ass, don’t you think you should just call me Tilly?”

  “Boone, you unleashed a monster,” Linc said, his voice thick with laughter.

  Tilly shook her head and picked up her knife, cutting a slice off the succulent steak in front of her. “Just tryin’ to get into the swing of things. This is a very strange meal.”

  When the humming grew louder and the vibrations more insistent, she was given a hint of just how strange it was to become. She put down her knife and fork and curled her fingers against the tablecloth. “Boone?”

  “Rules, sweetheart. It’s time to play by them.”

  “Sir?”

  “The moment you start to come, the meal ends. Let the men finish their steaks.”

  She shook her head, her gaze slashing around the table. Everyone’s head was bent as they ate, but they were certainly taking their time. She didn’t know how she was going to hold on. Her pussy was juicy and hot. Still a little raw from Boone’s lovemaking of the previous night and her own manipulations not an hour earlier. And she was past caring that her expression had to be showing every bit of her dismay and arousal.

  While they talked amongst themselves and shoveled food into their mouths, she tried to hold still, tried to think of something else other than the metal egg pulsing inside her, but the shiny gadget was striking just the right spot and shivering so hard she felt it vibrate through her belly and pussy. She closed her thighs, trying to trap the sound as well as stem the pulses beginning up and down her channel. With her breaths coming faster, she was sure someone was going to have to clean the wet spot growing beneath her on the chair.

  Then the vibrations ratcheted up a little more. Her inner walls clenched around it, making it feel as though it was getting bigger, but it was only the swelling of her tender tissues as her arousal built. Her thighs slithered together, opening and closing. She let her head fall against the back of the chair and couldn’t resist turning it side to side—the sensation was so delicious, and cutting through the last of her inhibitions. She closed her eyes.

  “Very nearly done,” Serge said, his voice demonically smooth.

  “Thank you,” she muttered.

  He chuckled. “You’re lovely when you come undone.”

  Boone cleared his throat with a rough rasp.

  “Right, boss. We’re not supposed to make any sexual comments.”

  “I don’t know how you can refrain,” she bit out, gasping against the tightness centering in her vagina.

  “Might be easier if you didn’t make those little moans,” he said.

  “I’m not…” But she was. She let another claw its way from her throat. And then she couldn’t hold still another moment. She began rocking in her chair, forward and back, the motions soothing because her vaginal lips rubbed on the fabric. “Oh God, I’ll never be able to look you all in the eyes again.”

  A large hand lifted her hair and cupped the back of her neck, massaging it. By the direction of the fingers, not Boone’s. Her eyes shot open and she turned to Boone, who watched her, his expression blank.

  Bear’s fingers deepened their caress.

  Another hand, Boone’s this time, slipped into the top of her blouse and cupped her bare breast. He tweaked her nipple.

  With an indrawn breath, she glanced up from her chest to meet his steady gaze.

  “We’re done eating,” he said, giving her a little nod.

  Tilly kicked off her sandals under the table and curled her toes into the Persian carpet. Locked with Boone’s gaze, watching his eyelids lower and his nostrils flare, she leaned into Bear’s caress, widened her thighs and ground down into the chair, pressing her pussy hard, causing the quickening vibrations to rumble through her pussy to her bottom. She cried out, chest jerking forward, her pleasure spiraling inside her. She forgot to breathe. Dropping her hands to the chair’s arms, she rocked and rocked until at last she exploded.

  When she opened her eyes, Bear withdrew his hand from her neck.

  Boone pushed back his chair and came close, kneeling beside her. He cupped her head and pressed her face against his shoulder. “You’ll understand if I ask you all to leave now.”

  Chairs scraped. Dishes rattled. Footsteps padded away.

  Boone kissed her hair and scooted back her chair. Then he lifted her and laid her on the table, notably free of dinnerware.

  With her legs dangling over the edge, her skirt around her waist, she didn’t glance around, not caring whether Manny was still there, dutifully cleaning the table. She watched, fixed on the sight of Boone’s ruddy cheeks. His hands tended to unbuttoning his trousers and sliding down his zipper, then lowering his garment past his hips.

  Now, her attention was fixed on his thick, straight cock.

  He lifted her knees into the crooks of his elbows and nudged her sex.

  “Remove the vibrator then guide me into you, sweetness.”

  She wondered if the men had fled to the room where the security monitors were. Whether they were watching. But she didn’t really care. If she were more truthful with herself, she hoped they watched. Because Boone, standing as he was, with his cock poised to plunge inside her, was the epitome of masculine strength and determination.

  And, at least for this moment, he was hers.

  She reached down with both hands, spread her lips and delved inside for the vibrator, which she tossed away. Then she lovingly gripped his thick, hot shaft. Without breaking his gaze, she placed him at her entrance, rubbing the tip of his penis in her wet folds to moisten it, and then fed him slowly inside her as he pushed forward. “I love the way you feel,” she breathed. “I didn’t think I could take you, you’re so large. But when you thrust inside me, I feel powerful too.
”

  Boone hefted her thighs higher, pulling her bottom off the table and straightening his back. “Punishment’s over.”

  She gave him a coy smile. “Am I free to play?”

  Gaze sparkling with heat, he nodded.

  Reaching behind her neck, she released the fastening of her blouse, then pulled down the front to expose her breasts. “Are they watching?”

  “Probably,” he muttered, pulsing inside her in shallow, circular movements.

  She affected a shocked expression with gaping mouth and widened eyes. “What, you didn’t give them detailed instructions?”

  “No time. I was winging it.” His hips delivered a delicious swirl. “When I went to your cottage, I had already asked them to dinner, but wasn’t sure how far I’d take this.” He circled again.

  Her breath hitched. “I get it now.”

  “What?”

  “Why they call this screwing.”

  Boone pushed all the way inside her, then paused. “Shall I demonstrate banging?”

  She giggled. “Only if it pleases you, sir.”

  He growled and juggled her thighs, snuggling his groin against hers. “Okay, sweet sub, show me again how you play with your clit.”

  The door whooshed closed.

  “Did your server just leave?”

  “Uh-huh. Quit stalling.”

  “But they’ll see,” she said with a little playful whine.

  “You’ll get used to that.”

  The thought that he might want them to continue their relationship thrilled her. She pouted her lips. “I suppose you’ll have me parading nude around them before too long.”

  “Only if it brings you pleasure.”

  “I think I like pleasing you.”

  “Then I’ll command you to strip. Maybe I’ll eat you out on the table while they actually finish a meal.”

  His suggestion sounded so decadent, but not beyond her imagination. At least not now that he’d begun powering inside her. She’d do anything to make him this wild.

  She sighed. “I like this system of punishment and reward.”

  “You still haven’t given me what I asked, Tilly.”

  “Oh.” She gave him an impish smile and licked two fingers, then reached down and pulled up the top of her folds, liking how stretched they felt with his cock filling her hungry passage. She toggled her clit, working slowly at first while he glided in and out, his movements steady and controlled, until she began to wriggle, because her clit was already hard, already distended, and her fingertips were flicking faster. “Sir?”

  “Not until I say,” he gritted out.

  She liked the surly undertones, and liked the tension he displayed, his face darkening, his jaw and cheeks looking like carved granite.

  Dropping her eyelids halfway, she continued to watch him as his gaze fell to her pussy and her quickening movements. Her clit was molten hot with friction, her vagina soaking wet and making moist sounds that would have made her cringe before she’d learned he liked her sopping wet—for him.

  Boone’s motions grew shorter, sharper, his arms extended at his sides, widening her thighs. His gaze was on his cock sliding in and out of her body, and she wished she could see it through his eyes, know what they looked like, coming together. But she felt every inch invading her. Felt her body stretching wide, his groin crashing against her, his deep, targeted thrusts cramming his thick cock inside as he pushed and pulled.

  And she could think those raw anatomical names without cringing either, because he made this something more than sex. Becoming his plaything wasn’t just about this glorious culmination. Wasn’t something she could feel ashamed about coming to crave. It was about surrender—of herself, of her inhibitions.

  Boone pounded harder, sweat dripping from his hair and streaking down his cheeks. His lips were pulling back from his teeth. “Now, Tilly.”

  “Jesus,” she groaned, and pinched her clit, twisting it slightly and arching her back off the table. She let loose a shout, knowing his men could hear whether they had their ears pressed against the door or were watching through their monitors. The issue wasn’t about her not caring. She was proud of this moment, of the overwhelming release, of her capitulation. In this moment, she didn’t belong to herself, but to Boone, just as they did.

  Boone gave a muffled shout, and the sound made her smile. While he continued to pump inside her, spurts of hot cum filling her, she hugged her breasts and thrashed her head, panting so hard she felt light-headed.

  When he slowed, she felt a moment’s disappointment the moment was ending. Then Boone dropped her knees and bent over her, sliding his hands beneath her back and lifting her.

  Bodies still connected, her thighs wrapping around his hips, he walked her to the door.

  Wearily, she smiled, glad they weren’t finished. Hoping they never would be.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tilly awakened, disturbed by a sound she didn’t recognize. Turning, she glanced behind her, but Boone wasn’t in the bed at her side. She searched the dark room, then saw the curtain beside the French door flutter. The balcony door was open.

  She slid from the bed, searched the shadows for something to wear, and grabbed the first thing she found. Boone’s white dress shirt. She shrugged it on, breathing in his musk and spicy cologne, rolled up the sleeves to her wrists, and fastened a few buttons for modesty’s sake before padding to the opened door.

  Boone stood with his back to her, his hands clutching the porch rail. Moonlight shone on his bare shoulders.

  A slight breeze ruffled her shirt, and she pulled it tighter around her as she stepped nearer. “Can’t you sleep?” she asked, leaning her hips against the rail to look up into his face.

  His features were drawn and hard, his jaw tense enough that a muscle rippled along the edge. “You should go back to bed.”

  He’d looked like this before. When he’d stood in front of the burning cabin. Tilly’s chest fell as she let go of a sigh. “What’s wrong, Boone?” she asked softly, although she was pretty certain about what haunted him, what haunted them both—although Boone wanted closure, to know for a certainty who had killed Celeste, and Tilly was fearful of that truth.

  Another balcony door opened farther down, and Serge stepped outside. “Boss, you hearing bells again?”

  Boone’s head turned toward the sound of Serge’s voice, but not far enough to meet his gaze. “Yeah, you go back to bed. It’s nothing.”

  The way he said it, it’s nothing, his voice so harsh the sound made her shiver, said something was sure bothering him.

  Serge knew it too, giving her a worried glance but stepping back inside.

  “Tell me about it, Boone,” she whispered, although now she wished she’d stayed in bed. Anything to avoid this.

  He didn’t look at her, his eyes focused on the dark treetops across the way. “I hear bells, Tilly. I know they’re not real. But I hear the tinkling of Celie’s gold bracelet.”

  Tilly didn’t breathe. She knew the sound as well. Thought about it now and then, when chimes tinkled in the distance.

  “The sound comes and goes, like when she walked, her arms swinging at her side. It’s barely there, but…” His gaze dropped to hers, dark eyes accusing. “I don’t believe in ghosts, but she’s fucking haunting me.”

  Tilly closed her eyes and dropped her head. She’d known the moment would come when he’d ask her what she knew. What she hadn’t prepared for, what she’d never considered, was that she wanted to tell him. Her secret was eating her up inside. And he didn’t deserve this.

  As far as the law was concerned, Boone might be untouchable, but he’d never let it go, never rest. Celeste’s death was a burden he’d never relinquish, not until he’d found the truth.

  Her throat tightened and she drew a ragged breath, and then slowly raised her head, afraid to meet his gaze. But she knew she couldn’t cower away from this. “I’ve been tryin’ to figure this out for years. I have a folder of every newspaper clippin’, of every f
amily photo of her I could find. I remember her, Boone, clear as if it were yesterday. When my mother went to visit, I’d hang out in her room. We’d listen to music, talk about boys. She talked about you all the time.” Tilly’s eyes filled, but she blinked away her tears. “She said she was gonna marry you. That you just didn’t know it yet.”

  Boone grunted and nodded his head. “Seemed preordained. She was the prettiest girl in these parts—”

  “And you were the senator’s son. Only, she had another boyfriend.” Her gaze fell away. “She snuck around on you, at least once.” He held so still, she wasn’t sure if he’d known. “I saw her leave with Leon Fournier. He didn’t park in front of her house, and I was out walkin’ with Denny, my brother. Denny shook his head and said she was headin’ to hell.”

  She closed her eyes, remembering the smarmy spring heat that had made her shirt stick to her skin, and Denny’s hand sliding inside her grasp. “Mama was always sayin’ Celeste was too pretty and too fast. Said it ruined her. That she’d earn herself a ticket straight to he—” She bit her lip, because judging Celeste didn’t seem fair when she wasn’t there to defend herself. “Denny liked Celeste. He sure didn’t like you, but he knew enough to be polite. But he really didn’t like Leon.”

  Tilly turned to stare over the balcony beneath her, anything not to have to meet Boone’s hard gaze. “That day, when I saw them drive off together, Denny told me he’d seen them together before. That he’d followed them to where they went and took off their clothes.” She laughed, but the sound was anything but funny. “He didn’t know why they’d want to do that when mosquitoes were out. That’s how I knew there was at least one more person who might want her dead.”

  Blood pounded in her ears. She glanced sideways at Boone, whose body stood taller and whose features had grown rigid. It made her nervous to continue, but she’d already said so much. “Made sense to me that the evidence went missin’. Couldn’t have that mattress or the semen samples showin’ the sheriff’s son might somehow be involved.”

  “And you never said anything,” he said, his voice dead calm.