About HER ONLY DESIRE:
Coming back to Bayou Vert is the last thing former Navy SEAL Boone Benoit ever wanted to do. But he's hell bent on uncovering the truth of who murdered Celeste, his high school girlfriend, and pinned it on him. He may have escaped jail time, but he'll never escape the pointed stares or whispers, no matter how much money he has, and he won't rest until the truth comes out. But Bayou Vert is a small, gossipy little town and he needs help getting information and running the upscale BDSM sex club he's opening on his family's property. So he offers the job to the only woman who can do the job--Tilly Floret, Celeste's cousin. But a 9-to-5 secretary isn't the only task Boone has in mind...
From the moment Tilly lays eyes on Boone, she knows he's trouble--sexy, irresistible trouble. When he offers her a job, more money than she ever dreamed possible, and a promise to help care for her beloved brother who's mentally challenged, she simply can't refuse his offer, even though it's clear the town will talk. She may not have known Boone all those years ago, but she's certain of one thing--Boone didn't kill Celeste. For Tilly is hiding secrets of her own, secrets she can't reveal to anyone. As she and Boone begin working together, he introduces her to an intoxicating world of pleasure that she never experienced before...and one that she doesn't ever want to live without. He can possess her body--she won't deny him that. But she's afraid he'll take her heart too...
About Delilah Devlin:
Until just a few years ago, award-winning erotica and romance author Delilah Devlin lived in South Texas at the intersection of two dry creeks, surrounded by sexy cowboys in Wranglers. These days, she's missing the wide-open skies and starry nights but loving her dark forest in Central Arkansas, with its eccentric characters and isolation-the better to feed her hungry muse! For Delilah, the greatest sin is driving between the lines, because it's comfortable and safe. Her personal journey has taken her through one war and many countries, cultures, jobs, and relationships to bring her to the place where she is now-writing sexy adventures that hold more than a kernel of autobiography and often share a common thread of self-discovery and transformation.
Delilah’s Social Media:
@DelilahDevlin
Buy Links:
Amazon -- http://tiny.cc/phu6ex
B&N -- http://tiny.cc/uiu6ex
iBooks -- http://tiny.cc/hlu6ex
B&N -- http://tiny.cc/uiu6ex
iBooks -- http://tiny.cc/hlu6ex
Excerpt
He sat the plate beside hers, his chair as well, and then leaned back. “The fact that a table separated us gave you courage,” he murmured.
“Now you want to intimidate me?” The quaver in her voice matched the trembling in her body.
“No, I want to be close enough to you that I won’t miss anything.”
Close enough that he couldn’t help but note how flushed her skin was or how her erect nipples pushed against the front of her thin bra. Pretending she didn’t care, she lifted her chin defiantly.
Boone gave her a half-smile and leaned toward her. “Indulge me?” he whispered. “I promise I won’t do anything that will embarrass you.”
She met his steady gaze. Her fearless pose unraveling because he was so close she felt the heat from his thigh right beside hers.
“Tilly...close your eyes. I want to feed you.”
She searched his expression, carefully neutral except for the slight curving of his mouth. He was teasing her. “This is silly. I feel silly.”
“Indulge me. We’ll both enjoy the experience.”
Huffing a breath, she closed her eyes. Not trusting him for a moment, but she’d let him play his game. Fact was, she enjoyed the intimacy of sitting so close to him. She liked the way he smelled. Cinnamon and male. Liked the heat emanating from his body.
“Open your mouth.”
She complied, opening like a baby bird waiting for a worm. At that thought, she wrinkled her nose.
Then she tasted the metal bottom of a spoon on her tongue and an explosion of sweetness as she closed her mouth around the flan. She groaned in ecstasy.
“Open.”
She opened again and received a second spoonful of the sinfully delicious dessert—creamy, smooth, sweet like caramel.
“Open.”
This time, she didn’t hesitate. But a spoon didn’t enter her mouth. Instead, two fingers, tasting slightly salty, deposited a raspberry on her tongue. She shivered, fighting the urge to close her lips around his fingers as she had the spoonfuls of flan.
A fingertip dragged across her tongue as it left her mouth. She bit into the berry, tart, sweet and salty exploding on her taste buds.
“If we were lovers,” he said beside her ear. “I’d take advantage of the fact you can’t anticipate my moves,” he whispered. “Open.”
Without a thought, she did, and his finger daubed flan on her tongue. The taste was even better than before without the metallic aftertaste of the silver spoon.
“I’d open that clasp, and part your pretty dress. Open.”
Again, his fingers entered her mouth, dropping another raspberry. Her breaths grew ragged. Her heart raced.
“I’d thumb open the clasp of your bra and expose your pretty breasts. Open. No talking.”
She was just about to ask how he knew her breasts were pretty. How had he known? The thought of cameras entered her mind and for the first time, they didn’t horrify her. They became part of his seduction.
Flan, again, was delivered by two fingers.
The urge was too strong. She latched her lips around them and sucked.
His breath gusted against her cheek.
Not as steady as before.
She almost smiled.
He withdrew his fingers. “Open.”
She did. And this time, a hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head back. His lips touched hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. She could taste the flan on his tongue and she swallowed greedily, taking him even deeper insider he mouth. An arm settled on her shoulders, turning her slightly. The kiss deepened.
Flan, wine, raspberries—none tasted quite as wicked as Boone Benoit’s mouth. His lips sealed her.
When he began to move, dragging her lips in slow circles, she was helpless to follow his lead, drugged by the sensual tug.
When he drew back, she licked her lips and slowly opened her eyes.
His blue eyes gleamed. “There’s pleasure in submission, Tilly.”
http://www.rafflecopter.
No comments:
Post a Comment