Too Much: A Loveswept Contemporary Erotic Romance (All or Nothing) (5 page)

And she wanted them there again.

Stop that
, she warned herself.
Focus.

He leaned forward to push his pants off his hips and she marveled at his control. Then all thought ceased as his cock was revealed, rock hard and erect. It flexed and she licked her lips, eager … wanting.

He sat forward to push his pants down to his feet as she’d instructed and it brought his
head right beside hers. His warm breath feathered over her skin and she shivered.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard and so long, when this is over you won’t walk right for a week,” he grit out. “Then when you’ve begun to walk like you don’t have my cock permanently embedded in your pussy, I’m going to fuck you again, even harder, even longer. And you’ll scream, Day. You’ll scream so hard you won’t ever forget what trying to dominate me got you.”

Her eyes closed. His words had a power she’d never been able to overcome. The sound of his voice, the way he wielded it, moved her in ways she’d never understood. He’d unlocked great big pieces of her with that voice and those words. He was doing the same now.

She inhaled deeply and it was infused with his scent—cedar and something quintessentially Jeremiah. It was sex and love and pain and hope. It was sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter, but always completely him. Daly turned her head and met the intense blue-gray of his gaze. One small flick of her tongue and she’d taste his lips.

“I’m not trying to dominate you, Jeremiah,” she whispered, and his eyes flared at her words. “I was trying to purge you. Put your hands on the back of the couch or I safe word and leave.”

If she hadn’t been facing him she wouldn’t have seen the small flinch of his pupils. Though he quickly recovered, Day knew she was pushing him out of his comfort zone.

“Blackmail has never worked with me,” he warned, but he did exactly as she’d requested. “And let us not forget who sought out whom tonight.”

She ignored his comment, focusing instead on his large penis. Long and thick, she’d once thought it made just for her. Her pussy wept at the memory of him inside her. How she had loved him. How she still wanted him.

How he had destroyed her dreams of forever with him.

“What about you, Jeremiah? Do you need a safe word?”

He shook his head.

“I need the words, Jeremiah,” she said and smiled. “Tell. Me.”

His cheeks went ruddy. “I don’t safe word, baby. Because nobody dominates me.”

She nodded. “How well I know this.” Daly ran her palms along the firm muscles of his thighs. His skin was dark, as if he spent time in the sun, and the fine hairs on his legs prickled her palms. She caressed all the way up and tickled him lightly with her nails to the back of his knees.

“Unbutton your shirt,” she ordered.

“You do it,” he countered.

Ever the Dom.
“But I told
you
to,” she said, and her gaze never left his cock.

Her mouth watered, and she bemoaned that while she was trying to do exactly as she’d said and get him out of her system, out of her head, her response was the same as always with him. Intense.

“If you want it off, take it off. Otherwise, it stays there.”

She ran her palms back up his thighs and very lightly scored his balls with her fingernails. He hissed and his hips arched up. “If you don’t undo the shirt, I’ll take that as noncompliance and this mouth you want so badly on your body will never touch you.”

“Fuck you,” he said harshly.

“Not today, Jeremiah Copeland,” she responded.

Something heady moved through her then—a feeling of control that made her lightheaded, almost euphoric. If this was even a measure of what he felt having her under his command, she couldn’t imagine how he coped. How did he manage the intensity of the feeling and still see to her needs first?

Though being in charge of this man was amazing, it was
off.
Her body clamored to have him positioning her, ordering her, and pulling every bit of pleasure from it with his own. In a way, she felt selfish about the amount of pleasure he’d always given her. He’d always taken care of her needs and satisfaction first.

She bit her lip. “Unbutton the shirt and move it aside. I don’t want you to wrinkle your clothes.”

“I can’t,” he said.

Daly glanced up at him. “Why not?”

“You haven’t
allowed
me to move my hands yet.”

She’d been touching his legs again and grabbed his balls, lightly squeezing—not too hard, just enough to ride the edge of pain and pleasure she knew he liked.

“Goddamn you,” he roared hoarsely.

She laughed, and his hips arched up again. Oh, the power she had at that moment! “Take your hands off the back of the couch and unbutton your shirt.” As an afterthought she amended, “And put your hands on the back of the couch when you’re finished.”

He did as she asked. She noticed his hands shaking.
Good.

His chest was beautiful and his abdomen rippled with muscles. There was no hair, with the exception of the trail that led from his belly button south. She reached up automatically and moved the shirt away from his nipples. Her breath caught in her lungs when she saw the tattoo in flowing script along his rib cage—
Everything.

Her hands traced the word that meant so much between them. His breath hissed in. It was what they had given to each other until the time had come when they hadn’t. That it was tattooed on his body told her he hadn’t let her go. Either that or it was a constant reminder of how she’d left him.

“What does it mean?” She couldn’t stop the words from leaving her throat.

“I guess we’ll both find out,” he said through clenched teeth.

His tone told her she would get no more from him about the topic. So back to his body went her attention. His nipples were still pierced. Daly rubbed over them and he smiled. She tugged on one of the rings and his smile vanished.

He made a noise deep in his throat, part groan, part growl. “Put your mouth on me.” A heartbeat. “Now.”

She raised an eyebrow and tugged again on one of the rings. His nostrils flared.

“I wondered if you’d take them out, let them close over,” she mused aloud.

“You wondered about me, hmm?” His hands were fisted against the back of the leather couch but his breathing was steady. Such control.

And now he was under hers.

She nodded as she spread his knees even farther and moved between them. “I also wondered if your body would change, but it seems, Jeremiah, you are as beautiful as ever. Do you taste the same, I wonder?”

She took his cock in her hand then and fisted it. She had small hands, and his member was large. The contrast of her lighter skin tone against the flushed red of his cock was lovely to her. Daly leaned down and licked the slit on the head.

“Fuuuuck me,” he said, the words drawing out on a long exhale.

She was about to. With her mouth. She closed her lips over the head and suckled, flicking her tongue time and time again over the slit. His hips bucked and she pulled away.

“Move your hair,” he ordered. “I want to watch you take my cock down your throat.”

She ignored his request and he growled. Literally growled at her. She gently used her teeth to stroke along the mushroom-shaped head.

“It’s been so long,” he said, and the words seemed torn from him.

Her heart ached and in an effort to soothe the pain in his voice, she took him all the way in her mouth.

“Yes,” he hissed.

Her pussy throbbed—each beat of her heart sent heat through her lower body. She loved kissing his cock, and nothing turned Daly on more than having him in her mouth. She reached between her legs and stroked her clit.

“Do not,” he said.

She pulled her mouth off him and sat back on her heels. “You don’t have control here, Jeremiah. It’s my pussy and if I want to touch it, stroke it, I will absolutely do that,” she told him matter-of-factly. “Do you want my mouth?”

His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. She could smell his need for retribution in the air. Daly wanted to scream at the lust motoring through her veins. Her nipples ached and she reached for them, tugging and moaning when electricity arrowed to her clit. She watched him
watching her and wondered at the thoughts in his head.

“Do you want to touch them?” she asked.

His lips compressed and he closed his eyes.

“Look at me, Jeremiah,” she ordered.

He did, and his blue-gray eyes smoldered.

“Do you want to touch my breasts?”

“I’m going to make you pay for this,” he said, and his hands came off the back of the couch.

A part of her wanted to demand he do exactly that. The other part shuddered deliciously in sensual terror. If he touched her, she would be undone.

“Please don’t, Jeremiah,” she pleaded. But she didn’t safe word. She was well beyond that now.

He wrapped a hand around his cock and began to stroke. “Put your mouth on me,” he demanded.

With his single command she lost the control she’d yearned for.

His tone brooked no argument. Hesitation would cost her.

His gaze held hers tightly. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

She shook her head but moved to do as he’d bid. It was too late. Her purpose, her reason for being here, was decimated. It was so easy falling back under his dominance. She needed to please this man whose heart and soul had claimed her so long ago.

A drop of sweat ran down his cheek from his temple. She wanted to lick it, but instead lowered her head and took him in her mouth. His free hand wrapped in her hair and just as she’d expected, she was taken apart.

Her mouth was hot, wet, and tight. Not quite like the depths of her body, but enough of all three for him to slowly lose his mind. He hadn’t expected this approach from her and as she moaned around a mouthful of his cock, he wanted to roar in primal response.

His beautiful submissive had tried to dominate him.

Copeland held her head in his big hands and watched her cheeks hollow out as she lifted off his dick and sank back down. She was taking his mind with her mouth, stripping away great big portions of the wall he’d built to keep her out.

He had tried so hard, and she’d come here tonight hoping to do what? Prove he meant nothing to her?

Well, fuck that. She was his. The sooner she realized it, the better off she’d be.

“That’s it, baby, take it all. Yes,” he hissed around a groan.

Copeland remembered her threat to safe word. How dare she? She’d come to him, bare of everything but the diamond-studded chain he’d had made especially for her hanging from her piercings. He felt the slight weight of the chain against his legs and before he could check the action, he’d reached for her breasts.

He caressed the furled nipples, rolled them between his thumb and forefinger. She groaned over his cock, then took his hands and placed them on the couch.

“Don’t take your mouth off me. You fucking started this and you’ll by God finish me off,” he growled. “Now take those hands and rub those pretty breasts for me. Pluck those nipples that even now pout for my lips and tongue. But do not stop sucking my cock.”

She whimpered. He waited, and more than he wanted her mouth on his cock, he wanted to see how she responded to the reversal of dominance.

Daly was his. That she’d come here to purge him from her system raised every last possessive instinct in him. They beat at him to make her his, to cement her to him with the influence he had over her body.

It was simple truth—she belonged to him. He would have her.

“You stroked your clit earlier. Tell me something, Daly, did it feel like my hand?” He pulled her head up and her mouth left his cock. She licked her lips and his balls drew up. By the way her eyes flared, she loved every second of it. His words, his actions, the need between them. “Did it?”

She moaned, then whispered, “No.”

“You need my hand, don’t you? Tell me what else you need, baby,” he said as he lowered his head to hers.

Her brown eyes sparkled in the low lighting of the office, and her lips were wet with her saliva and his pre-come. She shook her head as far as his hold on her hair would allow her and didn’t answer him.

In that moment, he realized how much the woman before him was hurting. It wasn’t a sensual ache, though that had to be intense right now. More than her subverting her natural tendencies to submit to him, he recognized a hurt she’d buried even deeper. He knew that pain because he felt it every day.

It was the sting of separation, and it was profound.

His hand clenched in her hair and her pupils widened. This woman responded to him on every level. He wanted her under him. Right now. No more separation.

“I like my dick in your mouth, Daly. I like my hands on your body. But you’re naked, and all I can think about is sinking into you and never leaving. It’s been too long since our bodies danced. Get up.”

Her eyes closed and he stepped against her, sealing their lips together and swallowing her protest. She tasted like wine and chocolate and sunlight. She also tasted like him. She pressed her lips together and he grabbed her jaw, applying pressure and forcing her to open her mouth.

She whimpered again and he knew he had her. She’d give him whatever he wanted. “Kiss me, Daly. If you can’t tell me yet, show me what you want,” he said.

She curled her tongue out to trace over his lips and his eyes rolled back in his head. What she did to him—
fuck.
He suckled her tongue and then bit lightly. She withdrew and he followed relentlessly, forcing his way into her mouth with bold, hot sweeps, leaving no part of her mouth untouched.

She reached between them and stroked his cock, up and down, until his orgasm threatened to explode.

With nothing more than her hand on his dick and her lips against his, she would unman him.

He lifted his head and nudged hers down. “Suck me.”

It was a harsh order and her body sank against his. He looked in the mirrors on the wall across from the couch, and his eyes traveled the graceful line of her back. The flare of her hips had him groaning. The cleft of her delicious ass had his hands clenching in her hair. She hissed and moaned.