Chapter Fourteen
Tilly didn’t see Boone for the rest of the day. She was on tenterhooks all afternoon, wondering what he would say or do about the fact she’d met with Leon. Jonesy hadn’t resumed his tour, but he’d let her dog his steps as he’d checked with the army of workers busy around the estate.
She couldn’t imagine the amount of money Boone was pouring into the restoration, but just in the last two days, there was notable progress. The garden in front of the house had been cleared, dead plantings removed, bushes pruned, fresh dirt and manure and a layer of mulch put down. A delivery truck was parked in the front lawn, workers unloading trees, bushes, flowers in pots ready to be planted. The red-tiled roof looked good as new. Painters were building scaffolding to begin the work on the exterior of the house.
She had to admit, his money could perform miracles. The sparkle was starting to return to the grand old house.
Tired, she could do little more than drag her feet back to her cottage. She wasn’t sure if she’d be welcome to join Boone for dinner, didn’t know for sure how that worked, so she decided to shower and rummage through her well-stocked kitchen for something to eat.
Maybe she needed time alone to sort out her feelings. The many highs, followed by the thudding lows, had sucked out her energy.
When she entered her bath and spied that great big tub, she changed her mind about the shower. Instead, she poured rose-scented bath salts into the bottom of the tub and filled it high with water. Resting her head against the back, she closed her eyes. Maybe she’d have a little nap.
“I guess I should have been a little more specific. I did only say no showering.”
She peeked between her lashes at Boone who strode inside and tipped down the toilet lid to take a seat. Her heart tripped, and then beat at a faster, heavier rate. “Thought I locked the front door.”
“You should have turned the dead bolt if you didn’t want me using my key,” he said, his narrow gaze resting on her face.
“I’ll remember that.” She closed her eyes again and resisted the urge to smile. She liked the deep, rumbling quality of his voice. Warmth that didn’t have a thing to do with the rose-scented water sent a flush through her skin.
“I came by to invite you to dinner—that is, if you don’t already have plans.”
Okay, so his edgy anger was a turn-on, but she didn’t really want him having the wrong impression. What they had, whatever it was, was too new to tarnish with any misplaced jealousy. Better not to p-ssyfoot around what was actually on his mind. “I didn’t go to town to meet Leon. I went to apologize to Mae. Leon just showed up. He invited me to lunch. It wasn’t a date, Boone.”
“You know damn well Leon’s man at the gate radioed him the moment you left the estate.”
She opened her eyes. “You monitor the police band too?”
He shrugged.
She sat sideways in the tub and rested her arm on the rim. “I noticed you had me followed,” she said, giving him back the same narrowed glare. “Some women might be creeped out by that fact.”
A dark brow arched. “Are you?”
“No.” She shook her head, and then grinned. “You’re a control freak, Boone.”
Boone shook his head, a smile tugging at the sides of his mouth. “Since you’re already wet…” He reached beneath into the bottom of the baker’s rack and pulled out a black pouch.
She angled her head to give him a coy glance. “What’s that?”
“How about you get out of the water and sit on the edge of the tub, and I’ll show you.”
As always, her curiosity won out. She pushed up and stood, then sat gingerly on the rolled lip of the tub. Her nudity made her blush, but she wasn’t about to comment on it.
“Part your legs.”
She almost blurted, “What? No ‘please’?” But he was giving her one of those looks, the ones that said it was playtime. Excitement thrummed through her. She dropped her gaze and slowly spread her thighs, hoping the pressure of her muscles against the rim wasn’t making her thighs appear massive.
He came to her, sliding an arm around her back.
“You’ll get wet,” she gasped.
He shook his head. “Lean back and grip the far rim.”
She did just that, leaning on her arms and realizing how the awkward position left her open and vulnerable.
Boone unzipped the pouch and drew out an electric razor.
Her eyes widened as she realized he intended to keep his earlier promise. “I can manage that on my own.”
He tsked. “What are the only words I want to hear right now?”
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, then let it go. “Yes, sir?”
Boone knelt between her legs and used a towel to wipe away the excess moisture.
She tried to resume breathing, hated that her face was getting hotter. All this attention to her private parts was a bit unnerving. And embarrassing. Did he think her terribly ungroomed? She’d always shaved her bikini line, but doing anything more seemed decadent.
“Did Leon get close enough to notice?” he asked softly, not bothering to glance up.
Holding a conversation with a man who couldn’t bother to look away from her p-ssy was awkward to say the least. Having him ask whether another man noticed she’s smelled like sex only made this whole scene surreal. “No, sir. Or if he did, he was too polite to tell me I smelled.”
He pressed a button and the razor buzzed, reminding her of the hum of the vibrator he’d used earlier. Her p-ssy clenched.
With a finger, he tapped her mound. “None of that, now.” Then, starting from the bottom of her p-ssy, he ran the razor up the right side of her folds.
The sensation was foreign—and delightful. She gripped the rim harder and leaned her head back, trusting he knew what he was doing and deciding she’d just enjoy this new experience.
He ran up the left side, then rubbed his fingers over her lips before parting them and repeating the process, but this time following the edges of her labia.
The razor ceased its humming and she opened her eyes, her gaze shooting down to inspect her bare mound.
He held a can of shaving cream and shook it, before pointing it on the opposite palm and pushing the nozzle to fill it with foam. Then he painted the foam on her mound, her labia, and the supersensitive area between her p-ssy and her anus.
Dying to speak, she sucked in a deep breath. If she could, she’d tell him this was way beyond embarrassing. Painfully intimate. When he dipped a manual razor into the tub water and then pulled her labia this way and that to glide the blades over her flesh, she was glad she wasn’t speaking, because she certainly didn’t want him distracted. But she needn’t have worried.
Boone was ruthlessly efficient, shaving her bare in minutes, and then wiping her with the towel. When he’d put away his tools, he fondled her flesh, admiring his work. “Pretty and pink.” He rose and slid an arm around her again, pulling her upright. “Rinse off in the bath. I’ll be waiting for you in your bedroom.”
Her heart racing, she lowered into the water, her cheeks so hot she wished she could curl up and die. Holding a breath, she sank beneath the water, hiding there until her head felt ready to explode. When she came up, she heard chuckling from the other room.
“Stop stalling.”
Lathering up a loofah, she washed quickly, shampooed her hair, and then ran fresh water from the tap to rinse. She stepped out of the tub, making a face at the pubic hairs littering the floor and being careful to step around them. Men didn’t think about their messes.
Wrapping her towel around herself, she walked into the room, her footsteps slowing.
Boone sat in an armchair, which he’d placed beside the bed.
“I’ll just get dressed,” she said, although she knew he had some nasty plan up his sleeve.
“Dinner will wait for us.” The stare he gave her as he turned his head was at once hard and hot.
For a long moment, she held still, hoping he’d give her a hint of what he wanted next, but decided maybe what he wanted was for her to trust her instincts. She dropped the towel and stood with her gaze downcast.
Not because she felt in any way subservient, but because she sensed he’d be turned on by her willingness to play. Then she slowly glided forward, trying to keep her movements graceful. She was a little too self-conscious of her nudity and her flesh’s tendency to jiggle, but she forced herself to put it out of her mind. When she drew near, she knelt between his legs, keeping her head lowered but watching him from beneath the fringe of her lashes.
His breath left him in a slow, steady hiss.
Because his legs were spread, she could see the promising bulge pressing against his slacks between his legs.
A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she firmed her lips, sensing he wouldn’t approve of her humor. This was “lesson time.”
“When you kneel,” he said softly, “place your hands on your thighs or behind your back. I’ll let you choose what feels comfortable.”
Placing her hands over her breasts or between her legs would be more comfortable. Since the point was proving her willingness to let him see her, she clasped her hands behind her back, aware her breasts jutted and the nipples tilted upward.
He reached down and gently plucked a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.
She breathed deeply, heat stirring in her core.
He tipped up her chin. “I want you to lie on the bed sideways, place a pillow under your head. Then spread your legs, knees bent.”
Her throat dried and she swallowed. “Yes, sir.” With his hand helping her up, she moved to the bed, grabbing a pillow, then climbing onto the mattress, aware her ass and p-ssy were pointing at his face. She rolled and lay back, sliding up her feet to bend her knees. She slowly let them fall to the sides.
“Nice,” he said, bringing his chair closer to the side of the bed. “Now, I want you to touch your freshly shaved cunt and pleasure yourself. Show me how you masturbate.”
Her eyes widened. She began to shake her head, but saw him narrow his eyes. She blew out a breath, drew a deep one in, and then reached between her legs with both hands.
If she’d thought letting him pleasure her with his mouth was intimate, this would be agonizingly so. He’d know exactly how she touched herself when she played alone. An intimate act she’d never shared with another. And yet, the moment her fingers glided on her smooth p-ssy, she was fascinated by the texture of her freshly denuded skin. Soft as a baby’s butt.
Softer, velvety almost. She skimmed a finger over her mound, then up and down her outer labia. He’d scraped her clean. Not a hint of stubble. She liked the sensation.
But he wanted more. He wanted her to show him how she got herself off.
Tilly steeled herself against the humiliation and dipped two fingers into her opening, swirling around her entrance, and then plunging deeper, encouraging the natural lubricant to ooze from inside her. When she’d coaxed sufficient moisture, and her fingers were coated, she pulled them free and traced the edges of her thin inner labia, up and down, touching them lightly, then tracing the edges upward to where they intersected. Her hood was swelling, protecting her *oris, which was not yet engorged, so she rubbed the top of it, circling her wet fingers, and then diving back inside herself for more moisture.
Her pulse stuttered. She didn’t dare look at Boone. If she did, she might come unraveled, might beg him to end this, to take over. The longer she smoothed her wet fingers over her flesh, the more she craved penetration. Her inner thighs tightened, and she eased them up.
Boone cleared his throat.
Casting him a glance, she paused. His face gave away nothing of what he might be thinking. She took his hint and let her thighs fall open again, but shifted her feet higher up and tilted her hips toward herself. So he’d see everything. Even her anus. Her arousal was building, fluid leaking past her perineum. Soon the bed would be wet beneath her.
His throat worked around an audible swallow, and Tilly took heart from that telltale action. He wasn’t as unmoved watching her as he’d like her to believe. Tilly breathed deeply, pulsed her hips once, gave a little groan, and peeked beneath her lashes to watch his avid attention to her motion. Emboldened by his fixated stare, she scooped fluid with her fingertips and continued to rub, concentrating on the changes occurring there between her legs. She noted her labia were swelling and hot, her hood swelling more. Her *oris was extending, growing harder, the glans protruding slightly. Gingerly, because it was engorging and more sensitive, she circled atop the growing knot, over and over, until her breasts tightened too. In her belly, deep, curling need swirled. Glancing down her body, she watched as the tips of her nipples became distended. She wanted to touch them, pinch them to add to the searing pleasure tightening her core. More than that, she wanted Boone with his wicked mouth to lash and suck her * as he had the night before.
Again, she rubbed her *, and knew she was getting close, but couldn’t manage an orgasm without doing something even more embarrassing.
“Make yourself come for me, Tilly. Let me see how you do it. Don’t torture yourself.”
She held back, wondering how many women he’d watched doing this very same thing and whether they’d felt as awkward and exposed as she did now. She didn’t want to do something that wasn’t sensual or pretty. But he’d commanded her. She would obey.
Forking her fingers at the top of her folds, she pulled up, fully exposing her reddened, bulbous *. She licked spit onto the tips of two fingers, then gave Boone a look she was sure showed every bit of her trepidation, but he gave her no encouragement.
Although he did seem to be holding his breath…
She reached downward, pressed her fingers against her *, and rubbed it in quick, back and forth motions, heating it with friction, exciting it with pressure. She strained. Her head tilted back, her teeth gritting, and her fingers toggled faster and faster.
When the lubricant she’d applied was nearly gone, she felt the pulse deep inside, the unwinding of the fierce tension that curled so deep and hard. She moaned, thighs moving restlessly, her bottom lifting, and fingers toggled harder until, at last, she peaked.
Immediately, she eased the rhythm because her * couldn’t take the rougher motions. She dipped down and gathered liquid, then soothed it over the exposed knot, circling until the ripples moving up and down her channel slowed.
With one last ragged breath, she relaxed, closing her legs, and turning her head to the side so that she couldn’t look at him.
The chair scraped on the floor, and then the bed dipped beside her. A hand rested against her cheek, a thumb pushing to turn her head.
Boone bent and pressed a kiss against her mouth, and then groaned and licked her lips. “I taste you,” he whispered.
Tilly swallowed, unable to meet his gaze. What she’d done went beyond anything she’d ever shared with another person. Her body quivered in the aftermath. Mortification spread a deep flush of heat across her cheeks. She held silent, although she wanted to ask how her performance compared to all those other women he’d watched.
Again, he kissed her, and then drew back, settling beside her on one elbow. He ran a hand over her breasts, molding them gently, and then smoothed his hand over her abdomen and down to her mound. He cupped her sex, not penetrating with his fingers.
“I feel the after tremors,” he said, and his lips curved into a smile. “I pride myself on self-control, but I’m hard as a post right now. I’d like nothing better than to f*ck you, but you need to recover.” His glance flicked to her face. “Now, was that so terrible a punishment?”
“Was that what it was?” she asked, her voice husky.
His teeth flashed. “I don’t want everything to be a lesson, but rather to bring you along naturally. This was a punishment, but the lesson was that there can be pleasure in it. Punishments can be physical, which this certainly was. But more importantly, there was an element of initial humiliation. You didn’t like baring your practices for me to see.”
Her heartbeat still thundered in her ears. She pursed her lips, pouting them. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so exposed.” As close to a complaint as she could manage, but he didn’t seem to mind.
He patted her p-ssy, a hint of challenge entering his tight expression. “Be a good girl and get dressed. And…no washing. Also, no underwear. Wear something short.”