Her Only Desire (20 page)

She heard him circle. Heard two somethings drop on the mattress beside her shoulders. Tempted to reach out a hand and touch, she didn’t have to bother. He gripped her wrist and wrapped it, closing it with a scratchy Velcro fastening. He repeated the action, leaving both hands bound. Not until he pulled and she was gently forced to stretch out her arms did she figure out he’d somehow tied her to the bed.

Her chest tightened. Tilly wasn’t sure she liked this. He could do anything he pleased. Or nothing at all. Her helplessness caused her a moment’s panic, but then she reminded herself, this was Boone. He’d promised he wouldn’t ask more of her than she could give. She took deep, calming breaths and relaxed into the restraints.

He came around the bed and patted her bottom again. “Very nice. Just one thing missing.” He climbed onto the bed, straddling her waist but not dropping down his weight, and slid his hands around her face. “Open your mouth. I’m going to slip something inside. It’s called a ball gag. And at first, it’s not very comfortable. Don’t fight it. Relax your jaws, Tilly. Don’t hold them wide. Let the ball do the work.”

Alarm shot through her. “Why do I need a gag?”

“Tilly, I know you, sweetheart. You’ll try to protest what I do next. You’ll beg me for release. Maybe even curse and rail, but only for your pride’s sake. Let me set you free.”

Heart pounding, she tensed her arms and tried to shake loose the bonds on her wrist. “Boone, this is a little—”

“Scary?” His hands massaged her bottom, thumbs digging into the small of her back. “Baby, this is just the beginning. I’ll admit, I’m chafing at the bit to push you along. I shouldn’t be this eager. I could slow down…”

The soothing motions relaxed her, and she slumped on the bed. The way he talked, he intended this to be a long exploration. Like maybe he wanted her around for a while. When his hands slid beneath her and massaged her breasts, she knew she wanted to experience everything with him. She gave a little moan and tightened her breasts, all the movement she could manage to show him how much she loved the way his hands gently cradled her. She hadn’t thought about the future. But now that he’d put the idea in her mind, she wanted to be along for that long ride.

Tilly turned her head. “This all so new, Boone,” she whispered, ready at last to accept his lead. “I’m not sure what’s expected.”

He leaned over her, kissing her cheek. “You don’t have to think. I’ll do that for you.”

“That sounds a little arrogant.” She wrinkled her nose. “Like I’m clay for you to mold. Like I shouldn’t have my own expectations.”

He bit her earlobe. “Try me, sweetheart. Let me guide you. After we play, we’ll review.”

“Now you sound like a coach for a football team.”

“I
am
a coach.” He leaned away and his hand caressed her lower back. “But I’m also your lover. And I’m the one with experience.”

Tilly released a deep breath. “This is pleasurable for you? Teaching a newbie, know-nothing?”

“More than you can understand.”

She girded herself to ask the question she hoped wouldn’t make her sound too insecure. But he was so much more experienced than her. “And if I disappoint you?” She held her breath.

A kiss landed on top of her spine. “You can’t. The fact you’ve let me take you this far in so little time…It’s what tells me you’re ready for more.”

She released the breath, somehow reassured by his confidence in her. “What are you going to do?”

“You don’t want to be surprised?” he asked, that smile back in his voice.

“I’d rather be prepared,” she muttered softly.

Boone chuckled and then smoothed his large hard palm over her ass. His hand stopped and squeezed. “Baby, I’m going to flog you.”

She went rigid, but not from dismay. She remembered how he’d gently stroked her with a flogger when she’d been bent over his desk. How the lashes had warmed her bottom, providing a surprisingly sensual pleasure.

“Tilly, nothing painful, I swear, but a little harder than what I gave you before,” he said softly. “The first slaps of leather will surprise you. Once you’re past that, relax. Enjoy.”

“And after that?” she asked, hoping he’d at last take her. She didn’t want to seem impatient, but her body was already wildly aroused.

“I might use my hand to spank your pussy,” he said, his voice deepening into a gravelly rumble.

She let out a surprised laugh. “Seriously?”

“You’ll be hot and moist. Your folds engorged. The slaps will feel sexy. Push you higher.”

“But I’m already hot and…wet.” She squirmed, her thighs tensing.

“See? Just talking about it excites you.”

She shook her head, but then said, “All right,” letting her reluctance bleed into her voice, a subtle resistance he would note. “We’ll do this. But, Boone…”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“If I don’t like it…?”

“Don’t you mean if you get scared?”

He moved off her to the side, and immediately, she missed his weight.

His teeth nipped her ass. “You won’t. But you also won’t be able to tell me. I’ll be watching you for signs. If you’re too tense, I’ll know to stop. While I’m stroking you, sweetheart, be thinking of a safe word for those times you can speak. Something not in your usual vocabulary, so I’ll know you didn’t accidentally use it.”

A safe word.
Funny, she didn’t think she’d need one. She couldn’t imagine him ever doing something so extreme she’d need one. He might embarrass the hell out of her, but she did trust him to know how much she could take. For such a strong, dangerous man, he was gentle with her. Controlled. Questions answered to her satisfaction, she opened her mouth.

Boone slid a hard knobby ball inside, pushing it against her tongue. A strap was fastened around the back of her head.

For a moment, she panicked, unable to breathe.

“Through your nostrils. Take a deep breath.”

Quivering, she did as he instructed and instantly calmed.

“Good girl. Another.” And then he left the bed.

A few moments later, something soft glided along her back and her buttocks, strands of something. The flogger. He was introducing the implement to her. Letting her know he was about to begin, giving her a feel for the material so she’d know that what he’d promised, that this would be another gentle introduction, was true. The strands were soft and pliable, although not as velvety as the last, sliding over her, a caress that made her skin retract in goose bumps. The moment the strands lifted, she held her breath.

The first stroke felt like the brush of a palm frond. But she didn’t have time to consider how disappointingly soft it really was, because another stroke landed, coming from the opposite direction. He laid the flanges on her skin, swiping side to side, entering a rhythm that drew not a single moment of anxiety, because the strokes, while warming her skin, also soothed.

Light swats. Targeted swats, she realized when each lash landed in a different place. High on the left buttock, high on the right. Lower, and then lower still, until she wriggled because now, she hoped a flange might touch her sex.

But he passed her sex, stroking the creases between buttocks and thighs, the backs of her thighs, the tender interiors…

Tilly floated, her body warm and open. Her mind releasing all her worries, all her fears. For long moments, she forgot the man behind her, concentrating solely on the friction warming her bottom.

And then the strokes grew harder, a little sharper. She could hear the change in the sounds—no longer a soft whoosh, but a more insistent thwack. The first jarred. The second nearly stung. She held her breath, wondering if she could take this for long. Then the repetition of the motions lulled her again.

Only this time, surprisingly, the soft bites pulled at her core. Liquid filtered down her channel, leaking down one thigh. Her pussy pulsed, just loud enough she heard the juicy sound.

Her own sounds aroused her. With her mouth stuffed, hard plastic muffling her voice, every murmur sounded like a guttural whimper. Slightly animalistic.

Whimpers that came more quickly the hotter her bottom grew.

A soft knock sounded at the door. She heard it but couldn’t muster any concern.

That is, not until the slapping leather halted.

Rousing, she lifted her head and heard Boone pad to the door. When the door lock snicked, she jerked.
No, he had not!

“I brought what you texted, Boone.”

The voice was Serge’s, and he was stepping inside the room.

Tilly made a squeal behind her gag, but the guys didn’t seem to notice.

“Heard from Alejandro,” Serge murmured as he drew closer. “The trade’s going down in two days.”

Boone said something, but she couldn’t hear what over the pounding in her ears.

A hand patted her rump.

Was it Boone’s? Why wasn’t she more shocked at the possibility it wasn’t?

Every sense alert, she startled when the mattress dipped.

“Boone asked me here, Tilly,” Serge said from right next to her. A hand smoothed over her back, down to the small dip and over her rump. “He thinks it’s better to acclimate you with his best friends now than to just thrust you into the life at a more public outing. He thinks you’re ready.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and tugged her lobe. “Remember the welcome dinner? Remember how you spread your legs and let us all watch you come apart? That didn’t feel dirty, did it? And we haven’t embarrassed you with reminders since. This is for you. Not Boone. Whatever he said. When one of us is here, we’ll watch out for your well-being and satisfaction. Do you understand?”

She didn’t, not really, but she nodded anyway. Questions screamed in her mind. Her throat tightened. Was Boone going to let Serge do something intimate? Would he let him fuck her? For just a moment, she worried she was just a toy to be passed among his men, and the thought made her tense.

“Relax, sweetheart. We won’t fuck, Tilly,” he whispered near her ear. “You’re Boone’s. That’s something special between you and him. I won’t even stay that long. But I have a gift for you. A set of anal plugs in graduated sizes. Something that helps prepare your pretty ass for use. I’ll start with the smallest. We’ll work our way up. Start slow. Keep one in for an hour a couple of times a day. And there’s a cleanser under the sink for washing them when they’re removed. Understand?”

Understand?
Sweet fuck. Tilly’s mind filled with images.

Although she’d felt the scratch of his shirt when he’d leaned near, she imagined him nude, from his burly, muscular chest to his toes. Of Boone hovering nearby, his gaze raking her body, spread for his enjoyment, her bottom red, her sex engorged. Why didn’t that picture send her into paroxysms of humiliation?

The answer was simple. Boone wanted this. He believed she’d derive pleasure from it. If only she’d allow herself to. However foreign this was from anything she’d ever dreamed might happen to her, she had to trust he knew her better than she did herself. He’d been right about so much already.

Serge moved, and the bed rose. Then his hands, a little cooler than Boone’s, smoothed over her bottom. He parted her cheeks. A finger glided through her crease, rubbing even cooler gel into her asshole. A moment later, something pressed against her puckered hole.

Behind her blindfold, she clenched her eyes tight and moaned with embarrassment.

A hand petted her hair. Boone’s. “Breathe, baby. Serge will be gentle.”

With her breaths coming noisily through her nostrils, she inhaled, slowing her breaths, deepening them until at last she released a little tension.

Serge slid the lubed plug inside. It was narrow, nothing to worry about, not even as large as the circumference of Boone’s finger, but as it sank deeper the gadget swelled.

“It widens and then narrows again,” Serge said.

Maybe because she’d tightened in rejection.

“You don’t have to clench around it to hold it inside.”

She rolled her closed eyes. That wasn’t why she’d clenched. Having Boone prod her ass was one thing. Having another man do the same, someone she had no intentions of being intimate with, was a little too much to bear without puckering up.

“Easy there,” he said, patting her ass like he might a horse’s.

But the pats against her fiery skin worked, reminding her of the lassitude Boone had created with his gentle strokes.

The plug eased inside, at last narrowing, and lodged. His hand drew away.

“I’ll put the box of plugs under your sink. Later, Boone.”

She heard him leave, and then sank against the bed, groaning again. Her shoulders ached because she’d been unconsciously fighting the ropes while Serge had been there. Her thighs throbbed from pressing inward against the bar spreading her thighs.

Tilly’s mind was awash with everything that had happened. She hoped with all her might there would be no more “surprises.” She thought maybe she’d had enough. Her mind drifted for a moment, thinking ahead to the pleasures Boone would introduce her to.

Barataria.
That would be her word. The name of the bay that held the bayou captive in a storm.

Not something she’d ever think accidentally during one of Boone’s sexy sessions. She whimpered and pressed her forehead into the mattress.

The ropes tightening her arms eased. Hands turned her shoulders and the clamps were released from her breasts.

As blood rushed into the tips, she cried out. A mouth covered one breast and a hand massaged the other. The sting lessened, soothed away by Boone’s tender actions. Then he walked around the bed, loosening the straps above her knees.

The moment she was freed, she pressed her thighs together, but her pussy felt too puffy, and she opened them again, just not as wide.

Hands gripped her waist and pushed her to the center of the bed, following her there. Fingers slid under her head and unlatched the strap holding the gag in place.

She widened her jaw and spat it out, and then reached up and shoved away the blindfold. Blinking against the light, she swung her gaze to Boone, who knelt beside her.

His expression was neutral, but his ice-blue eyes glittered darkly.

She couldn’t read his expression, but she knew he waited for her response.

“You let him touch me,” she whispered. A complaint, but she’d earned the right to utter it.

His head canted, his gaze studying her. “Did it revolt or please you?”

Tilly lowered her brows. “Can I put a check beside both?”

“What put you off?”

Swallowing hard, she glanced away, afraid to reveal her insecurity. “I know I’m just a novelty, but—”

“Wait right there,” he said, his tone lowering. “Do you think I don’t respect you, that I was passing you around to a friend for kicks?”

Her chin jutted. “What am I supposed to think?” she said, her eyes tearing up, because the answer was important—would determine how much more of her heart she’d invest in this curious relationship.

A fingertip slid along the side of her cheek. “Tilly, it’s true. We’ve shared women. Women who like to play. But that wasn’t what this was about.”

Even though she felt painfully exposed, she turned her face toward him and let him see her emotions. “Please explain it to me, because right now, I’m feeling…I don’t know….naked.” She paused to swallow and wet her dry mouth. “He saw me like that. Hell, they all saw me come. I spread my legs at dinner, wet a chair, and they all saw me do it. And I was all right with that. And I accepted what Serge did, even felt a little…” She clamped her mouth shut.

“Pleasure? And now you’re on overload?” The gleam in his eyes darkened, and he reached up for a pillow, which he put beneath his head, and then he signaled for her to come to him by opening his arms.

Not for a second did she consider refusing. After everything, she needed reassurance she meant enough to him that he’d want to comfort her. When she was snuggled against his warm skin, his hand stroking her back, her confidence seeped back.

Reflecting, she realized that Boone had soothed her every step of the way. He’d guided her, reading her body and looking past the things she’d said to find what she really needed.

There’d been pleasure, so much she was truly on sensory overload, but there’d also been something awakening inside her. Some secret part of her, deep inside, that reveled in the feelings he’d drawn from her and betrayed by every embarrassed whimper, every shocked gasp.

For Boone to have the patience to draw those feelings to the surface had to mean something.

Soft glides of his hand soothed up and down her back. Boone blew out a breath. “I don’t know why I am the way I am. I was raised pretty much like you. Mom and Dad pretended to be faithful while they both chased their pleasure elsewhere. Dad took me to a whore for my twelfth birthday so I could become a man.”

Tilly snorted. “I wasn’t raised anything like you.”

Boone grunted. “No, I guess not. Your dad didn’t bother keeping up the appearance. He ran off with his whore and left your mother to raise his kids.”

The truth stung, but he’d nailed it. She didn’t bother arguing. Instead, she rubbed her cheek over his heart, liking the way the beat thudded in her ear. Strong and steady.

“We’re a pair, Tilly. Given how we were both raised, you’ll understand if I didn’t see a whole lot of value in doing things the expected way.” His hand smoothed down her back and cupped her bottom. “I also discovered pretty early on that I like to control my partner. Celie taught me that.”

She lifted her head, afraid to hear more, but needing to. Letting him know by her silence that she was ready.

His expression was bleak. “She liked me to tie her up and tease her ’til she came. She also liked a heavy hand on her bottom.”

His hand rubbed her bottom in soft caresses. Tilly wondered whether he was even aware, because the motion was slow, and his hand paused now and then.