Too Much: A Loveswept Contemporary Erotic Romance (All or Nothing) (3 page)

Daly wanted to feel anger but the emotion was elusive, her body desiring something else entirely. So there she was, corset hanging open barely covering her breasts and pants shucked around her thighs, not a thing to cover her from his stare.

It was all forgotten—the past, the hurt between them … 
everything
faded. And all she wanted was him. His lips on hers, his cock buried inside her, and his hands doing wicked, wicked things to her before, after, and in between.

“You can’t talk, can you, Day? You missed my heat, didn’t you, baby? Tell me.” He leaned down and whispered at her ear. “Did you also miss my cock in your mouth? Your pussy? Your ass?”

She whimpered and lowered her head. He hadn’t given her permission to—wait, permission to what? Answer him? Look at him? He wasn’t her Dom anymore. He wasn’t her
anything
anymore.

“Oh, I can see that pissed you right off. I remember how your anger used to rile you up. Tell me, if I touch your pussy will it be wet with need for me?”

His words heightened her arousal to such an intensity she could have wept. Even so, she didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

He touched her then, tangling his hand in her hair and gently tugging her head back, forcing her to look at him. “Tell. Me.”

His words were soft. His meaning was not.

“Yes, damn you,” she bit out. “I’ll be wet. Yes, I missed your heat.” His eyes flared, heat in the midst of so much cold. “Yes, I missed your cock—in my mouth, my pussy, and my ass. Now tell me, Jeremiah, do you miss all those things too? Is that why you followed me home and broke in? You want to what?
Reconnect?
”

His hand clenched and the small bite of pain from him pulling her hair had her body melting. His chest brushed her breasts and she wanted his hand on them, plucking her pierced nipples and easing the sting. But there he stood, taking and not giving.

It had been that way when she’d left him. She had needed answers as to why he was once again engaging in criminal activity. He denied her those answers, as well as denying her any assurance that he hadn’t fallen back into his old ways. She had loved him. He hadn’t loved her enough. The reminder was like a shot of ice water in her veins.

“Stop,” she said, barely above a whisper.

He went still and stared down at her for a long moment. “That’s not your safe word, Day.”

She had no response for that. Jeremiah smiled then, and her stomach flip-flopped.

He reached for her, with his other hand slowly caressing down her side and hip and over her belly. His fingers circled her navel and traveled to the top of her pubis. She watched him the entire time; he held her head still and kept her gaze prisoner with his own. Daly wished she were strong enough to demand he let her go.

She wasn’t. This man had commanded her from the moment she’d met him. Then, as soon as she reached the age of twenty-one, he’d claimed a piece of her she hadn’t even realized was there.
Submission.
Jeremiah had reached inside her mind and ferreted out her darkest secrets. She’d given herself into his keeping without reservation, and then he’d betrayed her.

Daly had thought they were strong enough to withstand an assault from outside influences. Jeremiah showed her they weren’t.

“If I touch you here, will you give yourself over to me?” His voice was silky, and it pulled at the fraying threads of her control.

What game was he playing?

She snorted delicately. “We’ve been down that road.”

He nodded, and his beautiful face became unreadable. “We have, but I need to reacquaint myself with the territory.”

He skimmed his fingers over her labia and her knees buckled. He caught her with ease, releasing her hair and wrapping his arm around her low back.

“You want this so badly. You need this, don’t you, Day? How long has it been?”

Her head fell to his chest. Jeremiah didn’t stop there; he spread her lips apart and circled her clitoris. Over and over his fingers caressed her flesh. It was madness.

He hissed as her hips pushed against his hand. “Your body vibrates with the need to come. How long has it been since someone pleasured you, Day? Do not make me ask again.”

She squeezed her eyes closed and felt the hot sting of tears as they leaked onto her cheeks. How could she let him touch her? Where was her fortitude? It was lost under the magic of his fingers on her body.

They’d shared a bond so deep, so consuming, that the trust between them had been implicit. Once that trust was broken, the relationship died. That in no way meant their emotional connection simply disappeared. She’d tried, though—for three damn years she’d tried to let him go in every single way.

His hands on her flesh brought everything back. She had loved him. Shared her body with him. Obviously still wanted him. Good Lord, how her body
wanted
 …

He touched deeper now, a single finger teasing the depths of her pussy, and the need to answer became a drumbeat in her brain, insistent and loud.
How long, how long, how long?
She tried to fight it, but he had taken her will. “Three years,” she whispered.

“Goddamn,” he bit out.

He kissed her temple, the action brutally tender, but most of her attention was centered on the sensations he created in her lower body. She couldn’t respond to his sweetness when the heat of his words and hands took her self-control. For this moment, she didn’t care. She missed him.

Jeremiah played her expertly. Soft strokes, followed by quick flicks, and then deep rubs … his fingers knew her. Her body remembered him.

“Please,” she said on a moan.

Finally, a sharp tap on her clitoris had her back bowing over his arms. But she couldn’t let go, not until …

“Come,” he ordered in a hard voice.

She flew apart just … that … easily.

Her release seemed to go on forever. His size, his smell, the way he held her escalated the sensations, and Daly wanted to scream for him to fuck her. She would have begged, but he soothed her with deep rumbles from his chest and praises she’d long missed. She concentrated on the depth and beauty of his voice, letting her body come down from its high.

He used his foot to push her pants the rest of the way down her legs, “Step out of these, Day.”

She did as he asked and cursed her weakness around him. But it was only for him. Had only ever been for Jeremiah.

He removed her corset, kissing her nipples, continuing to praise her beauty the entire time. Picking her up, Jeremiah then placed her naked on the bed before he pulled the comforter over her.

“Sleep. I’ll be here.”

Daly wanted to fight his dominance. But didn’t. She’d deal with it when she woke up. For now, she’d take the release he’d given her and sleep.

* * *

Copeland didn’t know what hurt worse, the fact she’d had no lovers since him or that he had been with several.

She immediately fell asleep. His heart, already broken, was heavy with regret. Daly undid him every time she came; her sighs put him back together. He’d praised her, kissing her breasts as he cherished her body. They’d both needed that. She’d given him her release, and that meant more than she was probably ready to deal with. So he let her sleep.

He stood there and watched her breathe. So quickly the heat built between them. It was an irresistible force. She’d let him touch her, but it was because he’d taken her by surprise. She was strong, always had been. That strength made her submission sweeter.

He’d considered her surrender his greatest gift. She had completed him … made him a better man. For her, he’d left behind a lucrative life of crime. It hadn’t been a difficult decision. For her, he’d traveled the long road to legitimacy in all his business dealings. He had lived to see her smiles, feel her passion, and know that every day she was his.

She’d once been his everything.

For long minutes he watched sleep take her, her muscles relaxing one a time. He enjoyed every second, but what he wanted to do was strip down, bury his cock in her body, and ride them both to orgasm.

He took a deep breath and grimaced. He’d played with other women the first year after she left. He’d whipped them, flogged them, spanked them, and fucked them, but none had given him peace.

The only woman to ever have done that lay naked in front of him. His hands itched to stroke her. They ached to feel the sting of his palms on her ass. But instead of waking her he rubbed his hands on his pants, adjusted himself, and walked out of the room.

His phone vibrated. “Yeah?”

“He’s safe,” Toby said.

“And?”

Toby sighed. “David won’t tell me why he left it.”

Copeland rubbed his eyes.
Fuck.
That couldn’t mean anything good. “Is she in any danger?”

“David says she’s safe; he just needed a delivery person and he needs to talk to you. Soon.”

Copeland grunted. “So he picked her? I’m not buying it.” He should have called his brother directly but after the last incident, David had kept his distance. “He needs to meet me at the lake house Monday night. Tell him I don’t give a flying shit how he maneuvers it; his ass better be there. He involved Daly. He’s in a shitload of trouble with me.”

“Got it,” Toby replied. “When do I pick you up?”

There was not a single note of curiosity in Toby’s tone. Copeland appreciated that. Toby had long ago advised him to move on. He’d gone so far as to say that his sister deserved better than what Copeland could offer. At the time, he’d agreed. Now Copeland wasn’t so sure. All of his businesses were aboveboard and he could offer her everything he hadn’t been able to then. She’d known him at his worst. Would she want him at his best?

“J.C.?” Toby prodded.

“Give me two hours. And bring Stanton back with you. He needs to set up surveillance on her and make sure nobody comes close. I don’t know what the hell my brother’s involved in, but it can’t be anything good.”

“Got it.”

Copeland shut off his cell phone and moved back into her room. She’d done really well for herself after she’d left her family. Or maybe he should say after her father had disowned her.

What a bastard her father, Heyward Edwards, was! How the hell Toby and Daly survived such an egomaniac, Copeland had never figured out. Their mother died when Daly was three. Five years older than his sister and without his mother to buffer, Toby suffered the brunt of their father’s domineering personality for a long time. It continued through his teens. Toby finally told the former senator, by then a federal judge, to shove his money up his ass. He didn’t need him and could do fine on his own. He’d gone to work with Copeland and it infuriated Edwards. Then Daly grew up and landed in Copeland’s arms. It drove Heyward Edwards off the deep end into bat-shit crazy.

He sat down on the chaise lounge he’d been sitting on when she first walked into her room. He’d guessed at the code to her security system—and he’d guessed right. His Daly had been a bit predictable in some things back in the day. He’d been thankful she still was as he picked her lock and entered her house. He was having her security upgraded ASAP.

He smiled then. That would straight-out piss her off. It might be wrong, but he was looking forward to it. He wouldn’t mind a session or two reacquainting her with how to be quiet
and obey her Dom.

Her presence took his breath away every single time. She’d walked into his club tonight and he’d felt electricity zing through his bloodstream. The effect she had on him hadn’t diminished; if anything, time and distance had made it stronger. He still wanted her like hell on fire.

Daly had been sixteen when she’d left her mark on him. He’d been practicing the Dominant/submissive lifestyle for three years at that point, diving into the kinky end of the pond at a local club. His desires had always run darker, deeper. He was five years her senior. She’d been too damn young for him, though her innate submissive nature imprinted along every nerve he possessed. Copeland hadn’t been a saint, but he’d waited, holding in check that part of himself he instinctively knew only she could call forth.

When she turned twenty-one, he made her his. For someone who’d scraped the bottom of the barrel for food as a child, she had been beyond his scope of understanding. Her beauty, her generosity—they were things he’d never known. But by God he’d tried to understand. And he’d tried to make her happy. Ruefully, he acknowledged that Heyward Edwards had been right about one thing: Copeland wasn’t good enough for Daly.

She’d
walked out on
him.
Her lover. Her mate. Her Dom.

He sighed and rubbed the area over his heart. Her body remembered him. Even if her mind resisted, her skin still heated for him and her pussy still went wet from a simple command.

She’d gifted him with her complete submission in the past. She’d given him a taste tonight. But Copeland was a greedy man and he wanted it all. God help her now.

He was going to take what she’d offered him with her body. He’d tackle her heart and her misgivings as he went.

Daly woke up feeling empty and cold, but her anger warmed her and left her shaking. It was Saturday, there was nowhere pressing she needed to be, so she showered slowly, wondering how in the hell he’d managed to get around her hurt—how she’d let him back in so easily.

Was she so weak that she couldn’t overcome a full-on, sensual attack from the man who’d broken her heart? Maybe her need for him was something she just couldn’t resist? She scrubbed hard, hoping to rinse the feel of his hands off her body. It didn’t work. She shivered as she remembered the ease with which he’d taken her to orgasm.

A word, a pat, and she’d been blown away. Her body was traitorous.
So is your heart
, her mind whispered. “Shut up,” she said aloud.

She had to take back control somehow. It may have been only a single orgasm, one encounter, but with Jeremiah once was enough to bring all the love, need, and yes, heartache back in full force. Daly needed to show herself she could overcome last night. She lathered her hair and remembered the sting from his hands as they’d wrapped themselves in it. Her inner muscles clenched at the memory, so she rinsed quickly and began to scrub again.