Too Much: A Loveswept Contemporary Erotic Romance (All or Nothing) (8 page)

“I cannot hear you, sub. Speak up.”

His words were harsh but passionate. Her body softened once again, everything easing under the note of his command. He stroked his thumb over the top of her hand.

“Rules are naught between us. You have my everything because you will give me yours,” she repeated in a strong voice.

He dropped her hand. “Assume first position.”

Her gaze rose to meet his. His gaze was hard and he raised an eyebrow. Daly winced.

“Did you not hear me?” he asked in a silky voice.

Daly went to her knees, crossing her legs at the ankles and her wrists at her back. She kept her head down and her shoulders back. The position felt right, perfect. A common submissive position, it showed obedience while opening a sub to her Dom’s stare. Daly felt the air he stirred as he walked around her, weighing her compliance. Her nipples peaked as she slid effortlessly into submission.

How long had it been since she’d assumed this position for her lover? Too long.

“For every hesitation on your part, you will be punished. It’s been a while, yes, but I know you’ve dreamed of me, Daly. I know you haven’t forgotten I mean what I say. And I know for damn sure you haven’t forgotten how we play.”

He stopped in front of her and brushed her long hair behind her shoulder. Jeremiah ran a single finger down her cheek and along her jaw.

“I remember the feel of your skin in my dreams, Daly. But nothing is as soft as real life,” he said harshly.

He ran that same finger along her lower lip, dipping into her mouth. “Lick it,” he ordered.

She did, and had to hold back her moan as he took the newly wetted finger and trailed it down her neck, over her collarbone and down her breast, rimming her nipple through her bra before he pulled away. He walked to stand at her side and a shiver worked her flesh.

“There are people above us, Daly, maybe watching. I’ve never taken a woman in this room. You’ll be the first, and they’re wondering what the hell makes you so special. Soon I’ll turn on the mics, the music will lower upstairs, and everyone in the club will be able to hear you cry out for me. But before I do that, why don’t you tell me, Daly, exactly what you want tonight.”

“You.”

He smacked her ass with the palm of his hand and then rubbed the sting. “You what?”

He’d taken her breath with the tap. His hand disappeared too quickly. She wanted to beg for more. “You,
Sir.
”

“
Goddamn
how long I’ve wanted to hear that from those gorgeous lips. I’ve jacked off many nights the last three years remembering how you sound when you call me Sir. Tell me, little sub, have you gotten yourself off these past years? And if you lie to me, I will know.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He walked around her. Her body was so attuned to his movements, she heard the material of his pants shushing together and the pads of his fingers rubbing over each other. Anticipation sang in the air between them. Everything in Daly strained toward him.

It was the sweetest torture.

“Tell. Me.”

Oh, she knew what he wanted and she wanted to give it to him. But she couldn’t. Not yet. “What, Sir?”

Another slap on the flesh of her bottom. Another teasing rub to ease the sting of the sudden spanking. “Tell me how you got yourself off.”

“You must earn that, Sir,” she whispered, and closed her eyes against the flood of her tears.

“Look at me.” His voice was guttural and dark.

She did as he demanded. His blue-gray eyes were stormy and she lost herself in his gaze.

“I must earn what?” Agony coated his words. It cut her deeply.

She kept her gaze on his, unwilling to lose this skirmish in their burgeoning war. “Those parts of me,” Daly answered.

His thumb stroked over her face, capturing a tear. He brought it to his mouth and licked it off. “Fair enough. Because when I earn those pieces, it means I will have all of you.”

Her soul went into free fall.

Her eyes had gone liquid at his words. How this woman responded to him took his heart and rearranged it in his chest. Copeland’s body clamored at him to take her to the ground and simply fuck her, get it out of his system.

He knew it was impossible. He needed her submission and she needed his dominance. Different sides of the same coin, they were incomplete without each other. He recognized it and wondered if that feeling of being less than whole had brought her back to him.

It was true. He would earn those pieces back and claim every portion of Daly. She would be his, and it began tonight.

“I’m going to turn the mics on, Daly. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Copeland walked to the wall and flipped the switch that allowed the occupants of the club above them to hear everything that went on. A dungeon monitor upstairs would make sure the music was turned down. He’d hazed the glass between the dungeon and the club above—he didn’t know if he could handle others seeing her. But she didn’t know that. She’d think she was in full view. He remembered his sub had been turned on at the thought of having an audience. They’d never engaged in public play before and he didn’t think she was ready for others to actually watch them. But the thought was enough to push her. Should she ever be ready for that, he would know she’d given him all that she was. This would be a small step; the people in the club would only be able to hear them, while Copeland and Daly would begin new in all ways tonight.

“You wore red. It’s beautiful against your skin. Take off the bra … now,” he commanded.

She moved slowly and he was sure it was to tempt him. That was the thing about Daly: she was naturally seductive. Slim waist, pert breasts, flaring hips. Her bone structure was fine. She was … 
breakable.
It was such a turn-on that she gave herself over into his care every time. His strength against her frailty never failed to make him crazy.

Her creamy skin glowed in the low lighting of the room. As she removed the bra her movements were poetry, and his cock flexed behind his pants.
Soon
, he promised himself. Soon he’d bury his length inside her and give them both what they wanted. But first he had to find peace within her submission. Then he could take what her body offered.

He took the bra from her and lifted it to his nose. Her smell lingered on the lace fabric
and he groaned. “So fucking sweet.”

He tossed the bra to the side and stared down at her for a long moment. Her chest was flushed and her nipples were hard. The tiny ring piercings were gorgeous against the berry-red color of her areolas. Her head was once again bowed, but her chest rose and fell harshly.

“Stand,” he ordered.

She did as he bade and once she stood, he walked around her again. Pride suffused him as he noticed the red marks on her ass from his palm.
His
marks.
His
ass.

“Step out of the heels first, Daly.”

She stepped out of the sky-high heels and her toes curled. Copeland wanted to rub them for her. Later.

“Now the panties.”

She took off the thong underwear and he picked it up, putting it in his pocket.

He took a deep, shuddering breath. It was his turn for the rules of their play. “You’ve given yourself to me. You trust that I know what you need. All you give to me I will hold close and care for in all ways. You are mine to do with whatever I want.” A minute passed. “You. Are. Mine.”

Her gaze shot up to meet his. He allowed it because he needed that look in her eyes to ground him. Desire and something he dare not name because she wouldn’t willingly give him that again. He’d have to pull it from her.

A mere breath separated them. Every one of her harsh exhalations brought her nipples close to his chest.

“If you want what I’m offering you, you’ll get your ass on that cross and wait for me.”

His heart stood still. She stepped around him and walked to the Saint Andrew’s cross that sat in the middle of the room. Slowly she placed her hands on the lowest handholes at the top of the X-shaped cross and waited, head bowed, body trembling.

The breath that had locked in his chest released. Relief made him weak. Then a very potent flare of control had him glancing toward the glass ceiling. He could feel the electricity dancing in the room. The knowledge that those above could hear them, see their shapes moving beneath the hazed glass, enhanced everything running in his veins.

He gathered his red-colored hemp rope from the chest in the corner and walked to stand behind her.

“I picked red because it reminds me that soon your skin will be marked to match the color of this rope.” He reached around her head and held the rope to her lips. “Raise your head, sub, and show me you accept my bonds.”

He held his breath, and the anticipation that danced along her skin sank into his pores. His cock was harder than it had ever been.

She raised her head slowly and kissed the rope he held in front of her. Relief made him weak. “Thank you,” he whispered before placing a kiss at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

He bit her lightly and then licked it. She hissed and moved sinuously against him.
So fucking sexy
, he thought. So
his
. He growled, and she stopped immediately.

He stepped around her. “Close your eyes,” he ordered as he uncoiled the rope.

It was soft and wouldn’t leave rope burn against her lovely skin. The only marks he wanted on her tonight were the ones from his mouth and flogger. Rope play could be engaged in another time. Tonight, he intended to push them both.

She did as he’d commanded and he began winding the rope around her right wrist, looping it through the handhold and then down her arm and back through again. “Pull against the rope, sub.” She did, and he was pleased that his knots stayed secure. He’d tied no one since Daly. No one had pulled that level of dominance from him.

He repeated the process with her other wrist. She was now bound to his cross, back presented to him, head bowed in supplication. Gooseflesh dotted her skin and he ran a hand down the curve of her back, across the top of her delicious ass, and around her front to grab one of her nipple rings.

He tugged lightly, enough for her to feel—enough for her to know. “Damn you!” she said hoarsely.

She needed this. Her body sang to him. Copeland released the ring and stepped back. “Do you need the hood?”

She went silent. He put his hand in her hair and pulled her head back. She gasped but kept her eyes closed. He leaned in close and licked along the shell of her ear. “Do you need the hood?” he asked again.

“No … 
Sir.
”

He released her and she bowed her head. Copeland stepped away and walked around the cross. She was a lovely swath of cream against the black of the cross. The fall of her hair down her back was a gorgeous brown wave that beckoned his hands. It would have to be moved forward so nothing impeded the tails of his flogger. The muscles of her back and arms twitched already, and she shifted from foot to foot on the anti-fatigue mat he’d had placed there just for her. The gel-filled mat helped alleviate the pain from standing too long. Nobody deserved his care more. And they would be here for a while.

“What is your word?”

She shook her head.

“Give me your safe word, sub. I would know to stop if you scream it out.”

“July.”

His heart skipped a beat. The ache in his chest intensified until he wanted to yell with it.
Their relationship had splintered apart in July. That she would use it as her safe word was both reminder and taunt.

“So be it,” Copeland said harshly and watched as she shivered. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off, letting it fall where it would. He ran a hand down the front of his pants, over his cock, and stepped up to her. Slowly, he rolled his hips against her backside.

“Like hell on fire, sub. We will burn,” he said and barely recognized his voice. Passion made it so gruff it was barely more than a snarl.

Her ass canted out and he tapped it, hard, with his hand. “Nobody told you to move.” He followed the single tap with five more on each cheek. Hard and fast, he punished her then. Every one of her indrawn breaths, every soft sob, had his soul flying.

His sub was in need. How she’d always loved to be spanked. But tonight was for them both. Some other time, maybe tomorrow, he’d tear her ass up and make her pray for release.

“Not tonight, little sub. Tonight you will feel the kiss of my tails and you will beg. You will beg me to give you my cock and take us both where we want to go.”

His body demanded he get on with it. His mind knew he had to go slow. Three years he’d waited for her. He didn’t want to rush this first play between them in three years. It would be akin to desecrating the gift she’d offered him. Her body. Her submission. They were to be treated with nothing but reverence. Last night had been a prelude to this act.

He separated her hair into two sections and placed one over each shoulder. Goddamn, she was beautiful.

He moved back and listened. The low sounds of music through the speakers in the room provided a sexy backdrop to her increased breathing and the sound of his rope sliding against the wood of the cross. He walked to the storage chest again and picked out two floggers. One with heavy, leather tails, broad and meant to thud against her skin, bringing delicious heat and need to the surface. The other was a short-handled flogger with shorter, thinner strips of braided leather. This one was meant to sting.

But he knew her and knew that she craved the bite of pain with her pleasure. He would take her to the edge. Once she walked, it he would bring her back down and start all over.

“Keep your eyes closed. Do not look at me. Do not speak unless it’s to safe word. If you need to scream, you must safe word. Are we clear?”

She nodded. His knees almost buckled. Everything about her responses screamed of a need buried for too long. Daly was probably cursing him in her mind, but her body accepted his command easily.

Copeland felt the thrill of having her at his mercy and closed his eyes. His back almost bowed under the force of his need. It was just that great. He wanted to worship at her feet. Start there and work his way up. But first …