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Strung Out Page 12


  He started to reach out to her. “What are you doing?”

  She swatted his hand away and advanced. “I thought CEOs had power.”

  “They do.”

  “Then you aren’t the CEO.” She straddled him. “Because I’m the one with the power.”

  Talia sank down onto his lap, grinding her damp crotch along the hard erection that had already been waiting for her. She took his lips in an openmouthed kiss, sliding her tongue along the seam until Erik opened his own mouth and met her halfway. She rubbed her tongue alongside his, dueling for dominance while reveling in the spicy, familiar flavor of him.

  Quickly, before he could take control, she picked apart his first four shirt buttons and stabbed her hands beneath the fabric. She pushed until his shoulders were free but let the remaining buttons and the bunched fabric trap his arms.

  He started to struggle, and she nipped his lower lip. “Stay still or it’s all over.”

  Her short nails scored a path across his chest, and he dragged in a deep breath, following every movement with his eyes. Taking each nipple between a thumb and forefinger, she drew them into hard points before lowering her head and teasing them with the tip of her tongue.

  “Let me touch you,” he demanded.

  She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. “No.”

  When he would’ve struggled, she reached up and pulled off her shirt, leaving her bare but for a white cotton bra. Leaning over, she rubbed her skin against his, feeling the intense heat rolling off him in waves.

  His teeth ground together. “Then touch me.”

  The soft cups of her bra rubbed against his hard pectorals. Her nipples grew painfully hard, their tips teased by the friction. At the same time her pussy throbbed with the need to take his cock. It took a monumental effort not to rip his pants open and impale herself. But somewhere in the back of her mind, Talia remembered she’d had a point to make when this all began.

  Her labia were hot, swollen, and slick with juice that seeped down to dampen the insides of her thighs. She sat back, keeping her legs spread to ease the ache growing stronger by the second. Her clit tingled with a desire to be stroked, but she ignored its demands and concentrated on her captive.

  His stomach rose and fell with each labored breath as she undid his pants. “No underwear?”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “I was in a hurry.”

  He cursed when she wrapped her hand around his thick erection and freed it from the soft material of his pants. The long vein on the underside throbbed with each beat of his heart as he grew harder and hotter in her hands.

  A single bead of precum appeared at the tip. Talia caught it, locking her gaze with his before lifting her fingertip to her lips and licking it clean of his essence. The sweet, salty taste lingered on her tongue, a teasing reminder of swallowing his cum when he’d climaxed in her mouth only two days before.

  An empty throb began somewhere below her belly, and her pussy clenched hard with a desire to be filled. She’d wanted to show him her power, to hold off until he was begging with his need. But desire was a double-edged blade that cut her as it did him.

  Talia gazed into his green eyes. The pain of his sexual frustration made them spark with intensity. But there was something else too, something deeper and more profound—and maybe just a little frightening. Because she felt it too.

  She let go of the notion of power, held his cock with her hand, and positioned him at the opening to her cunt. Shifting her knees, she lowered herself until she could go no farther and the hood of her clit was spread against his pelvic bone.

  He groaned, arching his hips and pushing himself deeper than she’d thought possible. Her eyes slid shut, and her muscles clenched until the telltale burn of her climax began at the base of her spine. Forcing herself to relax, Talia rotated her hips, riding his cock in a slow, even rhythm.

  Erik wrestled against his shirt until the remaining buttons popped, several pinging against the tinted windows. She should’ve pulled back, punished him for the rebellious act. But his hands settled on her hips, driving her against him and increasing the friction of his hard length against the ribbed walls of her pussy.

  She opened her eyes to find him staring into her face. Thick locks of her hair slid over her shoulders, brushing his chest. A tiny gasp slipped from her throat as he thrust hard into her core. Tenderness suffused his face, filling her with a new sort of heat that had nothing to do with the fire building in her pussy.

  He arched again, the movement sending the thick shaft of his cock across her sensitive clit. All at once her body convulsed, her muscles spinning into orgasm. She rocked against him, each stroke sending her spiraling higher and higher.

  Beneath her Erik groaned and flung his head backward against the seat. Every muscle in his chest went rigid as he came. His hands locked on her hips, impaling her on his cock until she could feel the scorching heat of his semen pulsing into her channel. Reaching out, she snaked her hands around his neck and pulled him closer. The action unlocked his hands, allowing their joined bodies to shift. The new friction pushed her over the edge into another climax. Wrapping his arms tightly around her damp skin, Erik held her through the maelstrom until both their heartbeats had begun to slow and the driver turned the car onto a long, winding driveway.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Meeting your family for the first time sporting the freshly fucked look was not what I had in mind.”

  Erik grinned and pressed a kiss to her brow. He didn’t tell her that it wouldn’t matter what she looked like when she met them. After all, admitting his family was full of snobs who approved matches for their children based on lineage and not personality wasn’t going to help her confidence.

  Talia frowned anew. “I thought your mother was on her honeymoon.”

  “Desiree didn’t mention why she was home. I’m assuming I’ll find out when someone decides I need to know the details.” Erik nodded to the elderly Mr. Hatch, who’d been his mother’s butler since before Erik had discovered the difference between girls and boys.

  Talia waited until they were out of Mr. Hatch’s hearing, which wasn’t very far given the man’s age. “Didn’t you want to ask? I mean, isn’t that kind of important?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want to ask. It’s just better not to.”

  “Oh God.”

  She stopped inside the foyer and craned her neck back, looking up at the sweeping twin staircases connecting the foyer to the second floor. They’d been added during the last round of renovations.

  She took a death grip on his arm. “How long did you say you’d lived here?”

  “I didn’t.” He made no move to continue on through the foyer into the morning room where his mother received visitors. He figured it would be better to let Talia get over the wow factor before tossing her to the pack of she-wolves in the next room. “The house was built by an Aasen in the early 1900s. It’s been in the family ever since.”

  Talia stepped away from his side and began to slowly turn, obviously trying to get her bearings. The two additional wings that had been added over the years branched off on either side of the foyer. The original twenty-room structure could be seen through the arched doorways directly in front of them.

  Erik tried to view it as Talia would. It’d been long years since he’d taken a moment to appreciate the tinkling beauty of the antique chandelier, the gleam of the polished oak floors, or the graceful architecture of the handcrafted staircases. Desiree had overseen the last round of decorations, and the room definitely showed her personal flair.

  “I can’t do this.” Talia shook her head, already taking a few steps toward the door.

  He caught her around the waist, pulling her close and holding her firmly against his body. The intent was to calm her uncertainties, but the sensation of her soft, warm curves against him was distracting. He inhaled deeply, drinking in her unique scent. No cloying perfumes or overpowering cosmetics muffled the combination of sex and woman that defined her to
his senses.

  She squirmed against him, her rounded backside rubbing maddeningly against his groin and making his cock sit up and take notice. Gently bracketing her narrow wrists in his hands, he flipped her around to face him. She gazed up into his face, her expression troubled.

  Letting go of one hand, he reached up and smoothed away the frown lines. “You can do this, Talia.”

  “They’re going to hate me.”

  “They hate everyone.”

  Her lower lip trembled, and her blue eyes looked worried. “I bet they didn’t hate Courteney.”

  “You’d lose that bet. Her family is what my mother still refers to as ‘nouveau riche.’ Besides, it doesn’t matter what they like. It only matters what I like.” He shifted his hand to let his fingers brush the underside of her full breast. “And you know what I like better than anyone else ever has.”

  The teasing caress distracted her from her worries. Her hands stopped pushing at him, and her arms wound about his neck. “If I go in there and face the dragons, what’s in it for me?”

  He’d set out to lighten the mood, but his plan had worked almost too well. He was almost tempted to abandon the entire familial introduction altogether. Given a choice, Erik would’ve tossed her over his shoulder and carried her off to his suite of rooms in the east wing.

  He lowered his arms to get a tighter grip on her body, pulling her against him until his swelling erection was cradled against her pelvis. “I only have my body to bargain with.”

  “I’m listening.”

  His lips brushed against her ear, earning a shiver. “How about I promise to spread your pussy wide open and lick your cunt from the bottom of your hot slit all the way to the top of your clit.”

  Her eyes grew hazy with passion, and she shuddered against him. “Where do I sign up?”

  A throat cleared across the foyer. Talia would’ve leaped back but for Erik’s arms holding her firmly against him. He brushed his lips across hers and then turned to smile at Desiree.

  “You’ve got such a knack with the timing, sis.”

  * * *

  Talia wanted to drop through the gleaming hardwood floor. She’d been one breath away from propping her foot on the elegant side table and begging Erik to kneel down and lick her cunt all the way to climax. Worse, it wouldn’t take a sex therapist to figure that out. No doubt Erik’s sister Desiree was mortified at the tramp her brother was attempting to bring into the family.

  She already felt like an ugly duckling being brought home to meet the family of swans. It was like going back to high school all over again. Where the cliquish “in” squad spent their free time emotionally torturing her about the Goodwill castoffs that made up her wardrobe. So here she was with her cheap hairstyle, bare-bones cosmetics, and sensible clothes. Desiree was a staggering contrast with her stylish reddish brown locks, blemish-free complexion, tailored outfit, and designer heels that cost more than Talia’s last paycheck.

  “It’s not wise to keep our mother waiting, brother dearest.” Though Desiree’s gaze flickered back and forth between them both, it was obvious she was speaking for Erik’s benefit. “Especially not when she’s already in a bad mood.”

  Erik tucked Talia’s hand into the crook of his arm and fell into step beside his sister as they walked beneath the balcony and into the main hallway. Desiree’s heels clicked against the polished wood floor. She wasn’t at all discreet with her curiosity. She followed Talia’s every move with her feminine version of Erik’s green eyes framed by long, dark lashes.

  Desiree cast a sideways glance at Erik. “I almost fabricated a reason to come and stay with you yesterday.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Apparently, Mr. Right number five got caught with his pants around his ankles on the honeymoon.” Desiree barely managed to suppress the humor in her voice. “And it wasn’t inside the honeymoon suite.”

  “Damn.”

  Talia tried to reconcile what she was hearing with the siblings’ amused tones and expressions. Neither of them seemed surprised or bothered that their stepfather had cheated on their mother during the honeymoon.

  Desiree rolled her eyes. “Apparently the yoga instructor at their resort had mastered some really stunning positions.”

  “She must have for Sebastian to violate the terms of the prenup.” Erik chuckled. “In fact, this is the least expensive husband to date.”

  His callous words chilled Talia to the bone. Sometimes it seemed as if there was an insurmountable gap between the two of them. She swallowed down the lump lodged inside her throat just as they paused before an enormous set of French doors.

  Desiree grasped the delicately tooled handles. “Prepare yourself.”

  That wasn’t possible. At least not for Talia. The closest comparison she could find was when Elizabeth Bennet had met Mr. Darcy’s Aunt Catherine in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

  The high coffered ceilings made the room seem twice as imposing, and the three sets of French doors in the back appeared to lead to a private veranda that offered no obvious escape route. As in Erik’s Beacon Hill home, Talia could see Desiree had carefully chosen the furnishings. Unlike the Colton home, the furniture was light, airy, and feminine.

  In the center of it all sat a woman Talia vaguely recognized from the wedding reception where she’d met Erik and begun this whole trip down Alice’s rabbit hole. Her short hair was blonde and layered into a fringe that had been styled to soften a rather severe face that shouldn’t have belonged to a woman with a name like Annaline.

  She looked like Desiree’s older sister, not her mother. And the only real clue that they all shared the same gene pool was the green eyes. But someone who lived with the Aasen fortune at their disposal could afford the latest nips and tucks available to make the timeline flow backward.

  A twentysomething version of Desiree with artificially blonde hair sat perched on the arm of a chair, reading over her mother’s shoulder. Both women were dressed in pristine white tennis clothes. Their slender legs were bronzed from a recent trip to the electric beach.

  Annaline looked up as they reached the edge of the thick rug. Talia stifled a groan. She held the latest issue of the Boston Herald. What a great first impression. “I must say that you would be the last of my offspring I’d expect to land in this sort of mess, Erik.”

  He leaned down and brushed a swift kiss over her cheek. “So sorry, Mother. I know you much prefer to leave the drama until after the wedding.”

  Talia rooted her feet to the floor and refused to give in to the urge to flee. The twentysomething blonde muttered beneath her breath and leaped lightly to the floor. In contrast, Annaline relaxed back into her chair and tossed the paper aside before turning her piercing gaze toward Talia.

  What bit of momentary insanity had allowed Talia to place herself in this situation? Was she deluded? She knew next to nothing about families and even less about Boston’s wealthy elite. It took all her willpower to stand still and not creep backward out of the room. The shrewd gaze was almost a physical violation. It roved up and down her body, noting her cheap, simple clothing and lack of style.

  “I certainly can’t see the attraction,” Annaline pronounced after her examination. “But then I’m not the one fucking her.”

  It was like being transported back to the alley and her last conversation with Dylan. The crass words and blatant insinuations were always going to be the first comment people made about their relationship. Why couldn’t anyone accept that it was more?

  Who says it’s more?

  Erik turned to Talia and winked. The simple action was so at odds with the situation that it warmed her heart and gave her hope. After this many years the man was bound to have a handle on how to deal with his domineering mother.

  He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. They were warm and soft against her knuckles. Their gazes met, and everything else slid into the background. A silky heat began building between her legs.

  “Why don’t the two of you sit
down?”

  Reality snapped back into focus. Erik moved toward a sofa, tugging Talia along with him. He settled into the corner and lounged back against the cushions. But before she could arrange herself into a ladylike position beside him, he pulled her into the curve of his body. He was wonderfully warm in a room where the chill had more to do with the occupants than the temperature.

  “I know the two of you met at Mother’s reception, but how did this all come about?” It was Desiree who asked the question after taking a chair opposite the sofa.

  This information garnered new interest from their younger sister. “You met at Mother’s reception?”

  She was no doubt trying to decide how Talia had managed to crash their party when Erik stepped in to smooth things over. “Talia is a talented musician, Selena.”

  Selena examined her perfect manicure. “Lounge singer?”

  Talia gritted her teeth. Someone was in serious need of a reality check. She’d had students like this before. They were usually the ones whose trust funds gave them no interest in scholarships. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t sing.”

  Desiree looked back and forth at the two of them, amusement plain on her face. “Piano and strings, as I recall.”

  Talia was surprised by the friendly tone. “That’s right.”

  “Where did you go to school?” Annaline demanded.

  “I graduated from the Boston School for the Arts with top honors before being offered a teaching position there.” Which I just lost because I chose Erik over music. She swallowed back the regret. She’d made her decision, and now wasn’t the time for second guesses.

  “It’s certainly not Julliard, but it could be worse,” Annaline commented coolly.

  “I don’t know what the two of you are so upset about.” Desiree waved a hand toward Erik. “So he decided not to marry Courteney. Do you really mind? I seem to recall a conversation not long ago where the two of you were bitching nonstop about adding the Coltons to your permanent guest list. At least Talia doesn’t have a bunch of relatives you’ll have to entertain.”