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

by Lea Griffith

  Jeremiah smiled and she gasped. “Stop doing that to me,” she begged in a stronger voice.

  “Come here,” he commanded.

  Her feet moved as her heart pounded. Of course she’d go to him. He owned her. All of her.

  “I love it when you obey me,” he said as he stared down at her.

  She wondered if anything could ever hurt her when she was in his arms. “I love obeying you.”

  Jeremiah tapped her lips. So they were going to play outside the bedroom, huh? If that was so, she’d just broken a rule.

  Damn it. “Sir.”

  “Good girl,” he said with another panting-melting smile.

  “You have got to stop doing that,” she said around a deep breath.

  He cocked his head. “Doing what?”

  “That sexy smile thing you do,” she said with a huff. “It makes me hot and—”

  He took her words with his mouth and then she was consumed by Jeremiah. Right there, in the middle of downtown Atlanta, the man she loved more than her next breath was kissing her as if the world were about to end.

  As suddenly as he’d kissed her, he stepped back. “What was that about being with you, on top of you, inside you?”

  “I woke up this morning and found you’d snuck out of my bed again. I’ve decided you aren’t allowed to do that anymore, Jeremiah. And as punishment for your continued infractions, you will spend the day pleasuring me.” She made it through her speech without a pause. Daly was proud of herself.

  “If I didn’t know the rules beforehand, how could I have committed infractions?”

  “I knew them and as such, the rules apply,” she said with a grin.

  He ran a finger down her cheek and cupped her chin. “That doesn’t seem fair, little sub.”

  Daly shrugged. “When you play for keeps, fairness is a pipe dream.”

  “Ah, so it’s for keeps this time?”

  Something in his voice brought tears to her eyes. She swallowed hard, determined not to cry in front of him.

  “It was always for keeps,” she said.

  His face went hard and the look in his eyes almost singed her. “I’m close to fucking you right here on the street, little sub. If that’s not what you want, perhaps we should take this somewhere else?”

  “Where my Dom leads, I will follow,” she murmured as she took the arm he offered.

  He led her to his waiting car and when he’d seated her and gotten in himself, he told the driver to take them to Empire State South, a restaurant that served good food and amazing local yogurt.

  “You’re hungry I hope?” he asked as he grabbed her hand and pulled it to rest on his chest over his heart.

  She was and told him so.

  “Good,” he said. “I need you to keep your strength up.”

  Less than ten minutes later they were given a private booth and menus. Daly didn’t even have to look. She trusted him to order for her.

  The thought stopped the whirring mechanisms of her mind. Trusted him to order for her. Trusted him …

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She couldn’t breathe. It was so obvious, it took her a minute to process. “I just realized something,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  “Well, are you going to share?” he asked when she said nothing else.

  Daly shook her head. “I think I’m just going to show,” she murmured as the waiter set a glass of ice-cold orange juice in front of her.

  “Well, that’s certainly ambiguous,” he said with a laugh as he looked at the menu. “What do you want for breakfast?”

  “I trust you to order for me,” she responded and never looked away from him.

  Jeremiah’s gaze rose to meet hers and narrowed. His hands fisted on the table and the skin over his cheekbones went tight. After several long moments during which emotion hung in the air around them, he nodded and gave their order to the waiter.

  He pulled something from his pocket, a small silk pouch that he set on the table. “I guess we’ll find out what else you trust me with today, won’t we, Daly?”

  She lowered her gaze, shuddering as she submitted to the dominance in his tone. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Are you wearing the diamond chain between your breasts?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Good. I have a present for you. There are nipple clamps in this pouch, little sub. Go into the restroom, unbutton your shirt, take off your bra, and apply these clamps around your nipples. I know your nipples are already pouting; I can see the outline of your piercings through your shirt. Do you know how fucking hard that makes me?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Answer me.”

  “No, Sir, I don’t. But I’m hoping to find out,” she whispered.

  “You will, Daly. Goddamn but you will,” he replied in a harsh voice. “Take your panties off and bring both the panties and bra back to me. Do not hide them in your purse. Carry them proudly as you leave the restroom. Because you’ll be bringing them to me, and it pleases me to know you’ve done as I told you.”

  Just a moment of silence, a breath of want, and she waited.

  “Go.” He cleared his throat. “One more thing, Daly,” he called out.

  She turned, keeping her head lowered and her gaze on the floor.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  She did, and what she saw on his face had her pussy clenching.

  “Do not come. That is my pleasure to give.” He raised an eyebrow at her and his lip curled.

  So fucking sexy.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  She made it to the restroom and prayed there was nobody else there. It was empty. Daly sagged against the wall and blew a strand of hair out of her face. “What the hell am I doing?” she asked herself as she entered a stall.

  Longing began to eclipse sanity and with a haste she’d not known herself capable of, she removed her bra and panties and opened the blue silk pouch. Her breathing was harsh in the quiet restroom, but what spilled out of the pouch had her gasping. Solid gold nipple clamps connected by a fragile rope of gold and silver intertwined. It was as beautiful as the chain that linked her nipple rings.

  Her core was soaking. So wet she felt it coating her outer lips and sliding down the inside of her thighs. He did this to her. With his words and actions, he could force her to do things another man would have to work for and even then might never be able to accomplish.

  She dreaded the clamps. But it was a delicious sort of dread. Having her nipples pierced had been a nod to her decision to venture into new territory. Her breasts had become even more sensitive once she’d had them done, and Jeremiah loved them so much he’d had his done. A show of solidarity, he’d said, though he hissed every time she licked across or pulled at one.

  The clamps were a way of showing his ownership of her body. By using them he controlled her stimulation. Pain mixed with pleasure was a fine line to walk, and Jeremiah had always played her body precisely right. She would be squirming in her seat before they finished here today.

  She’d be lucky not to embarrass herself. But she trusted him to take care of her, and that’s why she didn’t hesitate to do what he’d told her. She clamped the first one on and nearly screamed. The agony was quickly followed by heat that had her shifting so her thighs rubbed together.

  He’ll never know if you touch yourself, her body whispered.

  He’ll smell your release before you take two steps, her mind screamed.

  And it would be written all over her face.

  “You can do this, Daly,” she encouraged herself as she lowered the other clamp to her unclamped nipple.

  “Oh, fuck me,” she whispered as she braced herself with both hands on the stall walls. She was about to come, the heat from her breasts a delightful punishment she’d not anticipated. The chain dangled, brushing the skin of her abdomen and ramping up her need even more. Why had this never felt so good before? Why now?

  The answer was there for her, but she couldn’t think past th
e desperate clench of her pussy. She was so empty. She needed Jeremiah. Her eyes closed as she buttoned back up. She was glad she’d worn a dark shirt today. If people looked hard they’d see the obvious outline of the clamps, but as it was, Daly didn’t really give a flying shit.

  She straightened her knees and washed her hands, using the wet hand towel to wipe her forehead. She was sweating. She pulled her heavy hair up into a ponytail to get it off her neck.

  One deep breath later and she was walking into the restaurant proper, holding her purple bra and thong, head held high as she headed to their booth. She’d felt his gaze from the moment she stepped out. Chills broke out across her flesh and her nipples screamed for mercy. So did her pussy.

  He was slouched in the booth, rugged face set into harsh lines of lust. Daly almost tripped as she came up to the table. Jeremiah raised an eyebrow and smiled that slow, lip-curling smile that melted her insides. But surely the fire would be quenched by the wetness between her legs.

  “Good, little sub,” he murmured as he held out his hand and took her thong and bra. He lifted them to his nose, sniffed and groaned, and then very casually put them in his breast pocket. He motioned for her to sit.

  The waiter came up to the table and placed their food in front of them. She didn’t even look at it, closing her eyes to try to keep from orgasming at the feel of the leather bench beneath her.

  “Open your eyes.”

  At the hard demand in his voice she looked up, grateful the waiter was gone.

  “I will always take care of you, Daly.”

  It was as if he reached into her mind and stole her thoughts. Apropos, considering he’d stolen nearly everything else from her. Heart, soul … why not her mind?

  “I ordered you yogurt,” he said.

  She nodded, her gaze never leaving the heated gray metal of his.

  “What are you waiting on? Eat,” he urged.

  She picked up a spoon, noticing her hand was shaking. Jeremiah noticed too. He smiled again, a fleeting curve of his lips, and then nothing but intensity.

  “How is it?” he asked once she’d taken a bite.

  “I don’t know, Sir,” she responded woodenly.

  “Do I need to taste it?” It was a threat of sorts. One that had the muscles of her thighs contracting.

  But still heat traveled up and down her body from her nipples to her clit and back again.

  “Maybe I should taste,” he said softly. “Give me some of your yogurt, little sub.”

  She started to dip some with her spoon, but he tsked her and said, “Use your finger.”

  Her startled gaze flew to his, but she did as he’d said and then held it over the table to his lips. He took her finger into his mouth, scraping the yogurt off it and humming.

  “It’s good. But I bet I can make it better.”

  Please no.

  “Rub your finger over your clit,” he said in a gravelly voice.

  Please yes.

  Once again she did as he’d said, and as soon as her finger stroked over her clit he said, “Not yet, Daly. First a taste for your Dom. Take that finger, dip it into your yogurt, and give it to me.”

  She whimpered and his gaze hardened, zeroing in on her lips with laser-like precision.

  “I’m hungry, Day. Give me a taste.”

  She held her hand out to him and he licked her finger clean, using his wicked tongue to cup her finger and draw it deep into his mouth. Another humming sound and she felt the heat swirl in her abdomen and move lower. The tops of her thighs quivered. She was so close.

  He had conditioned her long ago to come at the sound of his voice. It was a beautifully sinful tool that he used at his discretion. To come on command was no small thing and spoke to the level of the emotion between them. And yes, to the level of trust.

  Another obvious sign that Daly had always trusted Jeremiah, because she’d always come when he wanted.

  His gaze bored into hers. “Come,” he whispered now.

  It rippled over her slow and easy, wrapping around her clit and spreading like a wave through her body. Her breathing was harsh and she ached, breasts heavy, the desire a stone in her stomach—eased but not completely quenched.

  “You undo me,” he said with a smile.

  Sitting there, dripping her orgasm all over the leather beneath her, skirt ruched around her groin, Daly was a creature of lust.

  “You need me, don’t you, little sub? You need me inside easing that sting. You need me to take those clamps off and lick those pretty nipples until you explode beneath me. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Daly didn’t even recognize her own voice. It was husky, low, and full of need.

  “Soon, little sub, but right now you need to eat.” He pointed at her food and then very calmly went back to eating his own.

  She didn’t count the minutes she sat there, but it seemed an eternity before the high of her orgasm wore off. Her faculties in check once again she dug into her food, careful to keep her eyes downcast. Her nipples ached, the pinch of the clamps a distraction so intense Daly was close to begging.

  There were other patrons in the restaurant, but Jeremiah had requested a table away from others. It didn’t matter, because occasionally people walked by, going to the bathroom. The waiter stayed scarce. She was both grateful and slightly aroused at the thought that others might know what was going on in their booth.

  “I missed you,” he said into her silence.

  She glanced up and winced as the action made her hyperaware of the clamps. Every movement brought heat and a zip in her abdomen. “Yeah?” she managed in a strangled tone.

  “Imp,” he responded with a chuckle. “I think the appropriate response is ‘I missed you too.’ ”

  “I missed you too.”

  He raised an eyebrow and her pussy fluttered.

  “Sir,” she automatically provided.

  Jeremiah snorted. “I’m finding it difficult to eat with a hard dick.”

  “I could fix that for you, Sir.”

  He glanced at her empty bowl of yogurt and half-eaten biscuit. “I know you could. Are you finished eating?”

  “I am, Sir,” she whispered. The lust was building again, every inch of her skin prickling at the gleam in his eyes.

  “I’m hard. Tell me, little sub, are you wet?”

  “Whenever I’m with you, I’m wet,” she responded. “Sir.”

  “I can smell you. The musk of your release is in the air, and the thought that your nipples sit in those clamps when it could be my teeth biting them so sweetly makes my hands itch to get them on you. Your taste is in my mouth and no matter what I eat, no matter what I drink, it stays there. You taste of forever, Daly.”

  She squirmed on the seat. Desperate. Needy. “Please,” she groaned.

  “Soon, little sub,” he said softly. “We’re going to leave and when we get in the car, you’re going to take your shirt off and lift your skirt up.”

  Her breath hitched, and he reached under the table and caressed her knee. His strong hand on her knees had her opening her legs instinctively. Jeremiah chuckled, low and sexy.

  “Higher,” she whispered and bit her lower lip.

  “You would top from the bottom, little sub?” he asked in a voice of silk-covered gravel.

  “I have tried that already,” she said with a groan as he removed his hand.

  Jeremiah stood and straightened his coat. “How’d that work for you?”

  She tilted her head, her gaze stroking the lines of his body. “Well,” she drawled. “It got me fucked.”

  His face hardened and his eyes narrowed again. Her stomach tugged. She did that to him, and feminine pride joined the lust barreling through her body. Daly pushed him so close to the edge of his control he became even more dominant.

  She loved it.

  She loved him.

  “Let’s go,” he said, and desperation coated his words. He literally pulled her out of the restaurant so fast she had to laugh. “You’re laughing,” he g
rowled.

  “I am … Sir.”

  “We’ll see if you can laugh with my cock in your mouth.”

  “Oooohhh, a promise?”

  Another quintessentially Jeremiah look and she tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, stumbling into him. She took the opportunity to run her hand along the length of his hard shaft.

  “More than a promise, love,” he bit out as he ran a finger along her lips. The car pulled up to the curb. “Remember what I said.”

  He helped her into the Lincoln Town Car that had been equipped much as a limo on the inside. He took the seat opposite her and raised the glass between them and the driver. Then he raised an eyebrow.

  Another thrill coursed through Daly, bringing goose bumps along her flesh, furling her nipples even tighter in the clamps. It hurt so good—the way only Jeremiah could make it hurt. Slowly, she unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged it off her shoulders. His gaze missed none of it. His hands clenched into fists where they sat on his thighs. Clench, release. Clench, release.

  Then Daly lifted her skirt.

  “Spread your legs.” His voice was so low, so deep, she had to struggle to hear it.

  But she did as he commanded.

  “You have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen,” he murmured. “The only time it looks prettier is when it’s wrapped around my dick.”

  Jeremiah unzipped his pants and pushed them down to the floor. He grabbed his cock and began stroking it from root to tip, squeezing when he got to the head and rubbing what Daly knew was delicious moisture around before gliding back down.

  “Come here, little sub,” he said. “I would top you from the bottom now.”

  His play on words had her smiling. She moved to do as he’d demanded and once she’d settled on her knees over his lap, she hung there waiting.

  He removed the clamps, one at a time, and as the blood rushed back to engorge her nipples he eased the sting with his tongue. He laved her until she was writhing over him, keening pleas for release pouring from her mouth, hands fisting in his hair and trying to hold him to her breasts. He pinched one nipple between his fingers and sucked the other into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, and she exploded in an orgasm so intense she saw stars. But he didn’t give her time to come back down before he wrapped his hands in her hair, pulling her ponytail loose until the strands fell down her back.