Too Much: A Loveswept Contemporary Erotic Romance (All or Nothing) (13 page)

She could feel the heat from his body behind her. The couch had a low back and he was standing close. Daly forced herself to relax and wondered what was next. She pushed every single misgiving she had to the back of her mind, concentrating instead on how right this felt, being with Jeremiah … being controlled by him.

Her stomach growled and she almost cursed.

She heard the sounds of him moving around her kitchen, and then he was back. She felt the air he stirred and let his scent soothe her.

“I’m going to feed you, since you probably haven’t eaten all day. Am I right?”

She nodded.

He ran a hand up her thigh, flipped the release on the garter belt around her waist, and said, “You’ve got to take care of yourself. Open up, little sub.”

She did, and he put the fork in her mouth. Flavors exploded over her tongue, red sauce seasoned to perfection, noodles absolutely al dente, and a succulent portion of meatballs. He’d gone to Valenza’s.
Cheater
, she wanted to yell, seducing her with food. Instead she smiled and swallowed.

He was in front of her and she heard the sound of liquid pouring into a glass. A long moment passed and she heard him sip, then hum before he said, “Drink.”

She did, and the delicious tang of red wine poured down her throat. She licked the edge of the glass before he removed it.

“What do you taste, little sub?” She remained silent and he chuckled. “You have my permission to answer me.”

Daly sighed. “Sweet, with just a hint of tart,” she said.

“And what else?”

“I taste you.”

“Ah, and does that make the wine better?”

“Yes, Sir. It does.”

“Hmm,” he said. Then, “Open up.”

He fed her bite after bite until she could take no more. Valenza’s made the best spaghetti in the city. They’d gone there weekly the entire time they’d been together three years ago. The memories cascaded one on top of the other until she felt she’d spin out of control.

She’d had what amounted to a full glass of wine, but the buzz never came. She had to wonder if anything could top what Jeremiah did to her body.

She heard the sounds of the plate being moved away and wondered what was next. It was silent for a while and sleepiness began to creep in. Her muscles relaxed and her head lolled. How long since she’d been this comfortable?

It had everything to do with him.

“I’m thirsty,” Jeremiah said, and since she hadn’t felt him move, his voice at her ear was surprising. “Lie back and spread your legs farther apart. I want to see my pussy.”

Excitement rolled through her, chasing away the lethargy. She did as she’d been told, felt the air caress her nether lips, and smiled. It was at once disturbing and comforting how easily she slipped back into this role of submissive. She was a shy woman by nature, her body a thing to be hidden behind layers of clothing. But with Jeremiah, there was never any hesitation. She’d strip on command for him. Sit naked at his side all day if he requested it, and there was never any shame.

Daly wanted to rail against that. He alone gave her the safety to be what she wanted to be—his submissive.

The drops of liquid on her neck had her gasping, but she felt it pool at the base of her throat and dared not move. The contrast of the cold liquid on her heated skin was a foreplay she hadn’t anticipated. The sensation had her biting her bottom lip.

When he sipped from her skin she almost came. Her body shook and her internal muscles clamped down.

“You were right, it is sweet. But there’s something else there, some other flavor I just can’t place.” Jeremiah pulled her hips toward him and placed two of her throw pillows under her ass. This raised her body to him while also reclining her almost flat, head braced on the back of the couch, ass propped on the pillows. Her arms remained at her side and her legs were splayed wide, Jeremiah between them.

He was so close to her, she could feel the hair on his legs rubbing against the inside of her thighs, and his breath brushed her abdomen.

Cool wine flowed over her stomach, settling in her belly button. It tickled, but her anticipation chased away the giddiness.

“I think I should keep sipping to find out exactly what it is that’s tickling my taste buds.”

His tongue circled her navel and then he drank from her. She sighed and twisted, trying to get closer until a sharp bite at her hip had her gasping.

“I didn’t say you could move, little sub.”

Properly chastised, she stilled. More wine flowed, this time sprinkling her pubis. He tilted her hip, bringing her ass higher in the air as he poured so the liquid once again ran into her belly button.
So close
, she thought.
Please drink from me.

“Maybe this time I’ll be able to tell exactly what that flavor is.” His voice was gruff and she had to strain to hear it. He put his mouth at her belly button, sipped the liquid up, and then licked a path all the way to the hood of her clitoris. He licked lightly over the nubbin and withdrew with a sexy laugh.

“I figured out what it is, Daly, that special taste that makes this wine so fucking delicious.” She heard the wine bottle clink against the wooden coffee table and then he was back at her flesh, his warm breath teasing her opening. “It’s you. And goddamn but you were right, baby. It does make the wine better,” he said softly before he open-mouth kissed her flesh.

His tongue delved inside her, curling upward and then licking over her clit until his lips cupped the center of her heat and tugged. She’d been on the edge since she’d seen his car in her driveway. It took a single hum over her flesh to make her explode into tiny pieces.

And he didn’t stop, taking her higher with his lips and tongue until she came again.

“So good, little sub. You taste so damn good,” he said, warm breath feathering over her and making her thighs clench.

Jeremiah ran a finger down her slit and then held her open. He flattened his tongue and once again kissed her flesh so thoroughly, Daly had no idea if he’d be able to find the pieces of her shattered body. Sweat ran down her face and her nails dug into the couch.

So. Much. Heat.

“You want to scream, don’t you, Daly? You want me to stop kissing this pretty pussy,
my
pretty pussy, and fuck you, don’t you?”

She couldn’t have answered if he’d given her permission. His words pushed her higher and higher. His tone stroked along her skin like a second tongue and his fingers were magic as they worked her flesh.

A flick over her clit, a dip into her center. A gliding touch along her anus and stars coalesced behind her eyelids. Because of the blindfold she couldn’t see his eyes darken from blue to gray, and it was probably best.

“Be still,” he said in a hard voice.

Her mind wanted to fight the command. Her body sagged in relief as he stopped licking.

“Do you know what I would lie awake wondering every single night the last three years?” He paused as if waiting for her answer.

She didn’t respond.

“Oh, that’s good, baby. You’ve picked it back up so well.” He ran a hand down the center of her chest in a straight line to below her belly button. There, his fingers feathered in light caresses, swirling designs she couldn’t make out. “Every single hour of every single night I wondered if you were giving away what I considered mine. I wondered if another man was treating you how you deserved to be treated and I thought it was good I didn’t know, because I would have killed him.”

He sighed and rubbed along her abdomen. He used massaging strokes that were relaxing until he brushed the undersides of her breasts. Then heat began to pool. He’d cooled her off to build her back up again. How long he played with her this way she didn’t know.

She knew his hands and his voice, the heat from the fireplace and the wetness on her thighs. She knew her need and her lust, and in the midst of it all she knew he’d care for her.

“I would kill for you, Daly.”

Her blood went cold and everything in her stiffened.

He tapped a single nipple, flicking the ring there and then tugging. A groan slipped past her lips.

“You don’t like hearing the truth?” he asked mildly. He reached up and gently removed the blindfold.

She was stunned he’d done so. The significance was staggering. His face was a mask of restraint: lips flattened, eyes narrowed, skin flushed red and pulled tight over his cheekbones. His head was bowed and his chest rose and fell with harsh pulls of air. His question was so at odds with his demeanor, Daly felt something inside her unfurl and reach between them. It was hopeful and needy, demanding but promising.

Her hand rose and he glanced at it. He hadn’t given her permission to move or speak. This was where she could easily break. Daly needed to ease the pain she sensed inside Jeremiah. And he wasn’t going to let her.

It seemed an endless emotional bridge between his heart and hers, and yet they belonged to each other.

“You left me because you felt you hadn’t gotten the truth. So I give it to you now and your body turns cold.” His voice was terrible in the silence of her house.

A single tear slipped down her cheek and she did nothing to stop it. Let him see her pain too and know he was the cause.

“Look at me,” he bit out, the leash on his restraint close to snapping. She tasted it in the air, felt it in the way his hands clenched on her hips.

She acquiesced because there was no choice. He commanded and she obeyed. It was at the root of everything between them. A fragile trust her heart had never let her forget. A bond her
body had never managed to break.

“That I would kill for you should come as no shock. I’ve done much worse. But here right now, I would make you fly, Daly. Hand yourself over to me, every piece, and let me cherish you.”

Her gaze moved over the planes of his face and when she met the winter storm of his eyes, she trembled. This man was offering himself to her and the past melted away. She sighed, breath shuddering through her body, and then she begged without words.

“Tell. Me,” he said, and it was tortured.

“I am yours,” she whispered.

“How much is mine?”

“Everything,” she vowed.

He lowered his head to her then but never relinquished her gaze. His force of will was a palpable grip holding her firm. The first swipe of his tongue had her biting her lip. The next had her closing her eyes as ecstasy cascaded through her. The third had her head tilting back as far the couch would allow and the fourth had her mind splintering.

He inserted two fingers into her channel and pumped in and out slowly. Jeremiah used his tongue to play her clit before he dipped down lower and allowed it to join his fingers.

“So fucking good, Day … delicious,” he ground out.

She glanced down her body and he caught her gaze again. Chills danced along her skin but were dashed away by the intensity in his eyes.

She watched him lick her flesh and the heat built. It was a firestorm of lust and need that had her body bowing, hips thrusting to force him to bring her to release. She hovered on the edge and he pulled away, opening her pussy wide with his fingers before he blew on her. He let her come back down from orgasm, petting her thighs and murmuring praises. Then he started all over again, diving back in, tonguing her, stroking until the need built again, higher and more potent.

“You will come over and over and over. And you’ll scream, Daly. You’ll yell my name every single time,” he promised in a voice full of sensual darkness.

Daly’s gaze remained on his, though time after time it went unfocused in her pleasure. Those brilliant chocolate orbs would widen and then close into slits as Copeland took her pussy relentlessly with his mouth. Her body writhed under his ministrations. The silky mink-colored skeins of her hair had his hands itching to bury in them, hold her still while he fucked her from behind. Her taste slid down his throat, her cries rang in his ears, and his heart settled, at peace for the first time in three long years.

His cock ached to be sheathed inside her tight channel. Copeland flattened his tongue against her entrance, curled it inside, and she seemed to seize, thigh muscles contracting and abdomen flexing. He’d forced orgasm after orgasm on her with his mouth and he was nowhere near finished with her.

He stilled, glancing over her flushed body, hips canted at an angle so he could reach her flesh. Her pussy was pink and swollen, the insides of her thighs wet with her release and his saliva. He licked his lips, desperate for more but knowing he had to get inside her before he exploded.

He placed her ass back on the pillows. He’d been holding her in his hands as he feasted. Her chest rose and fell in sharp exhalations.

“I’m going to fuck you soon, Daly,” he said harshly.

His chest was raw from emotion. He didn’t deserve her. Every part of Daly Edwards was everything he’d always wanted, but he damn sure didn’t deserve to have any of those parts.

Yet they were his. She was his, and he’d be damned if he’d let her forget it.

She remained silent, dropping her gaze finally before she drew in a shuddering breath. He wanted to thank her for that but couldn’t speak. Splayed before him like a well-sated goddess, Daly wouldn’t appreciate his thanks. Her body was even now demanding more.

Copeland backed away from her, standing up from his perch on her coffee table. “Sit up.”

Daly moved slowly. Too slowly.

Copeland reached for her hair, winding the tresses in his hands and pulling her head close to his cock. He knew the bite of pain on her scalp would serve two purposes. It would piss her off, but it would also heighten their play. She loved to skirt the razor’s edge of pain. It added to the pleasure, she’d told him once, and he agreed.

“Free my cock,” he said, and it was a guttural command.

She reached for him immediately, pushing down his briefs and waiting.

“Look at me.”

Daly did, and Copeland almost lost his mind. The fire threw dancing light and shadows across her body. She owned him. He couldn’t look in her eyes and not want to come.

“Reach beside you and give me the blindfold.”