by Lea Griffith
Sweat poured from him when she finally screamed her release, and he watched her explode in his arms. Her head was thrown back, chest and cheeks red, abdomen clenching in time with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
Day gazed up at him, those big eyes of hers eating him up as surely as her body had taken his.
Jeremiah orgasmed with a shout, three years of need for this submissive pouring from him in seconds and bathing her insides. He released her legs and came down over her, cock still nestled in her pussy, his body absorbing the tremors in hers.
He rolled slightly to the side and took her with him. Still connected, it was how they used to fall asleep.
“Sleep,” he whispered.
He glanced down and saw her eyes already closed, felt her body relax as she slid effortlessly into that space between deep sleep and wakefulness.
She couldn’t hear him and if she could, it didn’t matter. He’d never hidden it from her and he wouldn’t start now. So as he lay there with his pants around his ankles, his cock bathed in her heat, and the woman he’d missed forever held tight in his arms, he would be truthful.
From the depth of his soul the words poured forth, and he refused to regret it.
“I love you.”
Chapter 6
The light battering the veil of her lids told Daly it was morning. Carefully, and without opening her eyes, she took stock of her surroundings. She rested facedown on a deliciously comfortable mattress, and the silk sheets surrounding her lower body were cool in contrast to the sunlight blanketing her upper body. Her muscles were putty.
She was sore in places long unused, but a pleasant hum remained in her lower regions. Her heart accelerated as bits and pieces of the previous night came back to her. The last thing she remembered was shattering into tiny pieces under Jeremiah’s thrusts. After that it was a blank. The worry of the past week, the battle with her heart as she’d girded herself to meet him again, had finally taken their toll. She’d caved like a ton of bricks under his mastery.
She wanted to be angry with Jeremiah, wanted to pretend nothing but lust lay between them, but knew the venom should be directed at no one other than herself. He had never forced her. For all his dominance, he’d never taken her without her permission.
And she’d given her consent again last night. Once she tasted him, once his hands found purchase on her body, the only thing between them was time. Pain dissolved under his kiss. His absence from her life fell to the wayside as she’d taken him in her mouth.
Nothing mattered but his body inside hers. And because Jeremiah was who he was, and because she could submit to no other, they had ended up in this place.
“And from the midst of cheerless gloom, I passed to bright, unclouded day.” His voice reached into her mind and tugged.
“Emily Brontë,” she responded automatically.
“You cry. Tell me why.”
Her heart thudded painfully and she opened her eyes to find him staring at her from his place beside the window. When he was fully dressed, the man could steal a woman’s thoughts. Now, wearing nothing but pajama pants, he was lethal to a woman’s heart.
Daly wasn’t immune, but neither was she prepared to have this conversation.
She pulled herself together as she allowed thoughts of the past to invade her mind and poison the beauty of last night. It was better this way. Daly grabbed the sheet pooling at her hips and pulled it up as she moved into a sitting position on the side of the bed.
“Where are my clothes?” she asked, making sure to keep her voice even.
He sighed. “Why are you crying?”
She shook her head. Jeremiah took two steps and stood in front of her. He was such a big man, he blocked the sun from the huge bank of windows behind him. Daly stared at his stomach, refusing to answer, but again noticing the flowing script along his rib cage. Everything.
That was what she’d given him, and he’d hurt her so deeply.
“I’ve never known you to refuse to answer a question, Daly.”
His voice stroked along her skin, dipping into her ears and teasing her mind with all manner of wonderfully sinful acts.
“A lot has changed, Jeremiah. Or maybe you just never knew me like you thought you did,” she whispered.
Wrapping a hand in her hair, he gently tugged until her head fell back. “Look at me,” he demanded.
She did.
“Do you remember the rules, Daly? Do we need to renegotiate this thing between us?”
Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Her mind almost locked down. He thought to play her? Now?
Jeremiah chuckled. “We aren’t going to play now, little sub. But we will play soon.” He tapped her open mouth with his free hand, sliding his index finger along her lower lip and dipping his thumb inside. Instinctively, her tongue flicked out to taste him. She closed her mouth as his flavor exploded over her taste buds.
A moan escaped her. She berated herself for this weakness, but at the same time something unfurled in her soul, stretching and reaching for the warmth only Jeremiah could provide.
“I told you last night your attempt at dominance would backfire. Once is never enough, Daly, but I gave your body a break because it’s been so long. My lust for you has never abated; time only made it stronger, and my body demands recompense for what you tried last night.” He pulled her hair tighter, bowing her head back even farther. “Do. You. Remember. The. Rules?”
Each word fired Daly. Deeper, hotter, it scorched her insides. The hands that had been reaching for him dropped. Her breathing quickened. Her stomach clenched and she wanted. Him.
She almost nodded but remembered he was holding her head. “I remember.”
“Tell me.”
Why those two words made her pussy slick with moisture she had no idea. Perhaps it was Jeremiah’s voice alone; maybe it was the inherent command in them. The way he wielded his magic never failed to push her to the brink.
“Rules are naught between us. You have my everything because you will give me yours,” she whispered and with those words, Daly’s heart broke all over again.
His beautiful face creased with sorrow. “Goddamn, baby,” he ground out before he lifted her up into his arms. Daly wrapped her legs around his waist automatically and he just held her.
She sobbed into his neck and it wasn’t enough. He stroked her back with his big hands and it wasn’t enough. She wanted to crawl inside him and lock down in his heart. Long minutes passed as he soothed her with nonsensical words. His heart beat at her cheek and his heat enveloped her, making her sleepy, stealing her will.
Her thoughts echoed back to her—stealing her will. She might as well be lust-drunk. “Put me down,” she murmured.
His breath shuddered through him. “I can’t.”
“You must, Jeremiah. This isn’t good. We’ll break each other again,” she said softly.
“Or maybe we can put each other back together,” he said gruffly.
Her gaze met his and in the deep, dark stormy gray of his eyes she saw pain. The emotions between them in that second were overwhelming. Need, lust, hurt, and …
“Jeremiah, I don’t think—”
His look cut her off. “Don’t. You came here, to me, last night and you gave yourself into my hands.” He unlocked her legs from his waist and set her down gently. “Then you lay in my bed all night, breathing softly and looking so damn sexy I couldn’t sleep, my dick was so hard. And now you’ve given me the rules of play between us. Your body tells me everything I want is a breath away. But your eyes, Daly—they say something else entirely.” He took a deep breath and one step back.
Daly mourned that step because it took his body farther from hers. She wanted to scream at him to take her, but at the same time realized the past lay between them. “I need to know—”
“Go home, Daly,” he said in a low voice.
“Jeremiah—”
He took another step back and turned away from her to stare out the windows. He wouldn’t let
her talk, and his move away from her felt like rejection. Her gaze took in the enormous, open room and she glimpsed her coat in a chair. She made a beeline for it, wrapping herself up, gaining a little more clarity now that she was somewhat hidden from his gaze. She’d hopefully get even more once she was out of this building.
His closeness stole her brain. She needed space and quickly put her heels on. She’d just turned to leave when his voice stopped her.
“You need time to process things. I’m going to let you go today. Go home, rest. But know this: if you don’t return here tonight, ready to submit to me, I will come get you.” Silken threats wrapped up in a cold, hard voice. “And I will make it hurt so sweetly, Daly. If you remember nothing else, remember how I can make it hurt so good.”
She located the door and had just turned the deadbolt when his voice sounded directly behind her.
“Wear red, Daly. I like you in red.” It was a taunt.
But as she fled through his office, down the stairs, passing two monitors and even Toby, she recognized the truth. She’d returned to The Underground last night because Jeremiah had rekindled a flame Daly had thought extinguished.
She would burn, but she was damned if she wouldn’t take him with her.
* * *
Copeland punched the first thing he came to and winced as his fist went through the drywall. “Damn it!”
“Saw her leave,” Toby said from the doorway.
Toby tsked, and Copeland flipped him off after he rubbed his hands over his pajama bottoms. Hell, he’d only worn the fucking things for her. She’d given him her body last night, a precious gift to be sure, but he hadn’t wanted to freak her out when she woke in a strange place.
His hands tightened into fists and he pressed them against his eyes. He fucking needed her, but he had to give her time and space to assimilate. He’d wanted to cement their physical bond first, but he had to understand that until they dealt with the past, things would be dicey. Still, it didn’t mean he wasn’t frustrated.
“Your brother called me this morning. Apparently he can’t meet you until this coming weekend.”
“Leave, Toby,” Copeland said in a rough voice. It came out hateful. He couldn’t muster the energy to care.
He’d had her in his hands and now she wasn’t. He couldn’t think past that right this second. The issue with David would have to wait. Copeland had a man watching her house and making sure she was safe. But in this moment, Daly held his mind.
She’d return tonight. In his bones he knew it to be true. But the time between now and then might drive him batty.
“She’s already got you tied in knots. I say, go downstairs and work off that aggression on one of the free subs.”
Jeremiah’s gut clenched at Toby’s words. Been there, done that. He shook off the suggestion. Nobody deserved the fire another woman stoked. He wouldn’t give something that was hers to another ever again. No, everything he had was Daly’s. “You keep talking, Toby, when I asked you to leave. You can’t fix this. Who are you afraid for? Her or me?”
Toby winced. “Both of you.”
Copeland nodded. He understood that. Toby was her brother and Copeland’s best friend. The man had seen the best and worst of their relationship. He turned to once again look out over the sprawling city of Atlanta. Fall was bearing down, and the trees the city was so known for were turning colors. Reds, oranges, yellows, and browns—they were all beautiful when tossed by the wind. From fifteen stories up, Copeland watched the trees sway in the breeze.
Toby sighed behind him. “Stanton will make sure she gets home.”
He nodded once. “How many people are signed up for tonight?”
“Ten scenes,” Toby answered automatically.
“The Black Dungeon is mine. Whoever was slated for its use needs to be rescheduled.”
“J.C., I don’t think—”
He held up his hand and cut Toby off. “I don’t need you thinking, Toby. Reschedule whoever had the BD.”
“Yep.”
“As far as David goes, I need to know his caseload the last year. Being the district attorney now, he’s probably pissed some people off the last couple of years. I want everything on who he’s put away and who he’s in the process of prosecuting.” Jeremiah noticed Toby’s surprise by the sudden switch in conversation, but he didn’t miss a beat.
“I’ve already got somebody gathering the information you just requested. Should know something by tomorrow at the latest. Also have his financials coming to us.”
Copeland glanced at the man he called his friend and right-hand man. “I need to know Ruthie’s safe.”
“She is. I checked on her first,” Toby answered.
Copeland raised an eyebrow at that, then breathed deeply. Of course Toby had checked on her. Toby and Jeremiah’s sister had a certain history. The band around Copeland’s heart eased. Daly hadn’t been the only one to suffer the first time he’d bailed David out of trouble. Ruthie had too. It was why she’d ended up leaving Atlanta a year or so after Daly had left him. She visited frequently, but he never saw her enough.
“Don’t worry about the wall, Toby. I’ll fix it myself,” Copeland said.
“Believe it when I see it,” Toby replied and opened the door to leave. He stopped and turned back to Copeland. “One more thing—Dante Shaw has requested membership to The Underground.”
Copeland’s neck tightened. Shaw was the new leader of the Dixie Mafia. They had grown up in the organization together but had never been close. Dante Shaw was now a very powerful man with a ruthless streak a mile wide. His reputation preceded him.
“Why here?” he asked Toby.
Toby shrugged. “Says your place is the best at protecting identities.”
“He just instigated a coup for leadership of the DM. I wouldn’t think he’d be too concerned with identities. He’ll need to talk to me. I’ll have to make it clear I won’t be dipping my toe into any illegal ponds for him. Schedule something for next week.”
Toby nodded and left.
Copeland rubbed his forehead and sighed, Shaw quickly forgotten. The pain that played over Daly’s features earlier bit into his heart. She was his, damn it. Nothing could change or erase that.
He’d watched her sleep last night and everything raw inside him had eased. When her skin was under his hands it soothed everything primal in him. Now that he’d tasted her again, felt her body move with his, he couldn’t let her go.
Copeland allowed her to walk away three years ago because he’d broken his word to her. He’d vowed never to hurt her and she’d entrusted all she was into his care. He shamed them both when he withheld information about David’s situation from her.
It wouldn’t happen again. He refused to let it. The truth was simple. He needed her like the air he breathed. She’d come to him tonight and he’d do the only thing he’d ever gotten right between them.
He’d cherish her submission and bring them both to a place where they were whole.
Chapter 7
Daly got out of the car, locked it, and walked across the street. Normally, Atlanta experienced mild weather in the fall, but it had turned cold quickly this year and the wind blew ferociously tonight. She hugged her coat tighter around her frame. The red silk dress she wore did nothing to protect her from the chill of the air.
Cars pulled to the curb in front of her, dropped off people, and then pulled away. She’d shunned the car Jeremiah sent, telling the driver she would drive herself. Should this go horribly wrong, she needed the ability to get away from here. She’d questioned over and over why the hell she was returning here tonight.
Because he told you to. She shrugged off the thought, desperate to retain some measure of control over her own actions, thereby maintaining emotional distance from Jeremiah. Her body still hummed with need. It happened every time they came together—too much was just never enough.
“Ma’am,” the same dungeon monitor she’d passed the night before said as he inclined his head. He was
a really big man, larger than Jeremiah. His blond hair held a sexy surfer-dude look that made her want to smile. He held the black lacquer door open for her and the desire to smile vanished. She took a single step over the threshold and panic smacked her in the chest.
Daly took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she stood there alone for a moment in the foyer entrance of the club. The music, oh good Lord, the music invaded her eardrums, threading through her brain and settling in the pit of her stomach. Its heat spread through her body, softening her, preparing her.
Though she’d never heard this song before, in every note she felt Jeremiah’s intent urging her to come closer. He knew she was here by now. She was wet, nipples already hard, and her breathing was so shallow, she wondered if she’d pass out from arousal.
And she hadn’t even seen him yet. This was why she’d come here tonight. Because the only man she’d ever called Dom demanded it. He’d taken her so high last night. Jeremiah had reminded her of everything she’d had and then walked away from.
She straightened her spine and opened her eyes. She glanced through the entryway of the club. Everywhere her gaze touched held the tools of pleasure. Saint Andrew’s crosses, spanking benches, padded platforms and sex swings. Her breath caught. The swing held her attention. Note to self, she thought with a smile.
Chains hung from the ceiling, and floggers and whips of all sizes hung on the walls. There were spreader bars, paddles, and other accoutrements of the lifestyle all around her. Excitement coursed through her body as desire coiled tighter and tighter.
She’d heard rumors of dungeons and playrooms. Candace liked to tease her that even though Daly had been Jeremiah’s sub, she’d seen only a tiny portion of the lifestyle. Being in The Underground opened her mind to limitless possibilities.
Toby entered the foyer. She supposed he was her escort to Jeremiah. “You’re ready?” Toby asked.
Daly stepped forward and took the hand he held out. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
“For the record, I think this is a really bad idea.”
