Curve Couture: Book Three

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Curve Couture: Book Three Page 2

by H. M. Irwing


  He stopped and dropped his head in resignation before spinning around to meet me halfway. I leaped into his waiting arms, and he crushed me to him. I breathed him in, dragging in a whiff of his tantalizing scent and trying desperately to get a hold of more.

  Erin buried his face in my neck, raining kisses down its length, making it all that much more difficult not to react—to respond. I lifted my hand to wrench up his head and mesh my lips to his, but the throat clearing behind me put a damper on those thoughts.

  I groaned out loud. Erin simply cursed.

  “Don’t you guys ever give up?” I moaned out loud after I reluctantly released my hold on Erin to slide off him and turn to face the persistent intruders.

  “Nope,” was Rafael’s short answer.

  “We want a firm date from you. Right now, so we can not waste time and start planning,” Tracy said amiably.

  A firm answer? Erin had already told her to fuck off. How much more firmly could she want it? That did not come out well.

  I mentally shrugged it off indifferently.

  “Rafael and I have discussed it, and I think we can throw the wedding of our dreams in one week,” Tracy was saying.

  “Congratulation!” I exclaimed magnanimously.

  She ignored me. “Also, we can do this at no additional costs.”

  “Huh?” I looked at her in askance.

  Both Tracy and Rafael exchanged a glance before saying smugly, “Trust us.”

  I glanced at Erin to see how he was taking this new idea. He was pacing up and down like a caged tiger. It was almost erotic to watch.

  “One week?” he finally muttered.

  “One!” exclaimed Tracy, already beaming in victory.

  Erin came to me, “Is this what you want?”

  I looked into his eyes. The street lights were remarkably in favor of gracing over his features, giving his angles shadows and highlights, creating the most intriguing vision. As if he needed any help in beguiling his prey into complete and utter defenselessness. But then, I would have expected nothing less from Erin. He would shine—even under a street light. I gave it some thought. I had dreamed of a wedding with all the hoopla that went with it. This was my only chance at it. But I wanted it, only if he did too.

  “I want it only if you do,” I said simply.

  He sighed before dropping his forehead to mine. He took in a deep breath before sighing out a puff of hot air that warmed my face. Erin released me then to walk threateningly up to Tracy, who stared up at him unrepentantly.

  “One week, and not a second later,” he said.

  Tracy’s beaming smile only got impossibly wider. Rafael turned to look at me.

  I nodded my head and said, “Do your worst.”

  ****

  I sat back in Erin’s arms, sated and content.

  He’d decided to take me to his home where he could, in his words, lock me up and lock the world out at the same time. It had seemed like the idea—if one ignored all the intrusions of his annoying family.

  Why were they even still here?

  Erin must have realized where my train of thoughts were smoldering in, for he leaned in to nuzzle my neck, stopping to kiss my ear and send a spasm right where it mattered. I sighed happily. Even after our very recent strenuous activities, he could still stir up a ripple into a full-blown storm with only the slightest caress. Maybe I was just acutely sensitized to his touch. After the number of times we’d already cum together, I knew I was beyond exhausted, but that, it seemed, didn’t stop me from craving him still.

  I sighed happily and curved closer in his lap.

  “Should we go to bed?” Dawn was already here with the sun rising rapidly into the skies. I was dead tired from exhaustion and lack of sleep. I didn’t think I could even walk to the bed.

  “I can’t. I can’t get up. Can we just sleep here?” Erin asked me tiredly. I looked him over pitifully. He had, after all, put in a lot of effort to you know. Of course, he could have stopped after just that first time, but I couldn’t really blame him for that either. I had, after all, done more than my share in you know.

  I huffed out an exhausted breath and struggled to get onto my feet, but then, my weakened legs caved in under my weight, and I fell down onto my hands and knees.

  “Well, that’s a delectable sight. Pity, I am incapable of doing anything about it. But it’s a vision I will hold and always remember. One that you will need to repeat again soon. Perhaps later today, after I have rested,” said Erin with a feeble attempt at a lascivious grin.

  I straightened up, back onto my feet, then wobbled unsteadily toward the bed. He may be willing to sleep it off on the couch, but not me. I would have my rest on the soft, inviting bed spread before us. I would sink into its blissful comfort and quite possibly not wake up again. At least not this day. Or the next, for that matter.

  I fell face first on the bed and almost fell dead asleep there and then. But the chill I felt on my naked ass spurred me on. I crawled forward and moved aside long enough to get under the blankets; then, I let my lids fall shut, and my mind blanked out with it.

  Chapter 3

  “You’re engaged?”

  “To her?”

  There was a slight commotion out front. I woke up with a strong hangover of déjà vu. Where had I heard all this before? Well, not this exactly, but the gist had been the same. Me with Erin inspired shock, outrage, and general disgruntlement.

  I listened in to the heated exchange of words and was happy to note that it was not affecting me this time. I was secure in my affections for Erin and in his for me. I glanced down at the elegant rock that nestled in the ring on my finger. The sparkle lit just right in the afternoon sun. I yawned mightily. I could still use a couple of more hours of sleep, but I doubted I would be permitted the peace to do so.

  So, I did what came naturally. I rolled out of bed and headed to the toilet to flush away my past and start a new beginning. I emerged out a moment later, freshly showered and invigorated. I felt ready to battle the world if need be. But I didn’t have to. I had only to face Erin’s parents and my own sister. All of whom hated me with a vengeance that defied reason.

  But then, I could do handling the unreasonable. It was all I had been doing up ‘til now.

  I moved to Erin’s walk-in robe and rummaged through it, looking for anything wearable—something that was preferably old and worn or at least not branded. But it was like looking for a coke in a tray carrying champagne. This guy didn’t do inexpensive, so I did the only reasonable alternative; I dug around for an Armani shirt and tugged it on. Buttoning it up, I ignored the snug fit about my breast and hips. Not having a spare bra, I had to make do without.

  I was rummaging in his drawer for his briefs when the door behind me flew open and almost off its hinges with the amount of unnecessary force behind it. I yelped and made to leap into the closet space and away from prying eyes.

  A quick glance behind me showed it was only Erin—a very startled and transfixed looking Erin. I was momentarily glad to note I had offered up a suitable distraction that he no longer looked as angry as when he had first stormed in. But my heart thudded off beat at the glint of lascivious intent clear in his startling blue eyes.

  “Stop staring at my bottom,” I managed when my wildly pumping heart finally settled to a calmer beat.

  “Don’t straighten; just stay right as you are,” said Erin as he turned on his megawatt smile that guaranteed to turn my knees to jelly.

  I shot upright.

  “Uh uh, now you’re just asking for it.” He tsk tsked my actions. I sighed in relief, happy to have playful Erin rather than the temperamental Erin who’d burst into the room.

  “Am I? Just what am I asking for?” I turned to ask him cheekily.

  “This,” Erin muttered hoarsely. “You’re begging for this,” he said, running his hand down the front of his pants. I watched breathlessly as he unbuttoned the low-slung jeans riding on his hips as he did his sexy stalking toward me. I shivered in
anticipation, licking my lips as he stuck his hand in to fist himself. I moaned out loud in anticipation and all but swung myself into his arms. I took over, holding and cupping him, drawing an outcry of excitement. His hands around me moved lower to settle on my ass, massaging each cheek roughly before wrenching them away. I cried out, wanting more, before the stinging smack landed on my behind, taking the wind out of me in shock.

  “What was that for?” I gasped out finally, but he was already drawing me away from the wardrobe and toward his massive bed.

  “I love your ass,” he said, shrugging simply. “I am going to smack it because I love it, and then, I am going to fuck it,” he breathed in my ear. My shivers of passion rivalled my outrage, but before I could say a word, I was upended over his knees.

  Smack!

  “Stop it!” I exclaimed, moaning helplessly. I did not like it, but I liked it.

  His hands moved caressingly over the inflamed rump to slide forward and between my legs to caress…

  “Oh, oh yes,” I puffed out breathlessly.

  “You know you love it, baby. You love me.”

  I couldn’t help the nod of agreement, but I said, “That could change if you smack me again.”

  I bit back a helpless moan when his fingers slipped between the wet folds, and he pushed his way through. I lifted my backside and wiggled down hard on his fingers.

  “Yes, that’s it. That’s it, baby. Fuck my fingers… Fuck… fuck… me.”

  Erin shifted then, already panting hard, to toss me onto the bed and climb up behind me.

  “On your hands and knees,” he demanded, and I scrambled to comply, wanting it as much as he did, and then, he was there, clutching at my hips and drawing me back toward him even as he pushed hard into me. We held together for a single brilliant moment, relishing in our most animalistic contact, and then, he began to thrust roughly, wildly, and after a moment, almost brutally. I whimpered and moaned with each thrust, wanting more… always more.

  We fucked hard and heavy, scrambling ungainly for our peak; then, on reaching that elusive pinnacle, collapsing in a messy heap.

  “I love you, Claire. I love you so bloody much,” Erin groaned out almost viciously into my ear. He lay heavily on my back, pressing me into the mattress, but I didn’t mind, for it seemed he couldn’t stop his litany of, “I love you, I love you,” breathed into my ear.

  ****

  I couldn’t get the stupid smile off my face.

  “You shouldn’t curse anymore, you know.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, what if we have a baby? You wouldn’t want the child to hear you swear, would you?”

  “You’re pregnant?” Erin pounced on me.

  “No. I have a contract, remember? With you. I don’t think it allows for pregnancy.”

  “Fuck the contract.”

  I grinned up at him. He could be so endearingly sweet.

  “Fart the contract,” I corrected softly.

  “Huh?”

  “Fart is milder than fuck. They sound about the same,” I suggested reasonably.

  Erin chuckled outright at that. “Why would I say fart when all I really want is to fuck?” He grinned wolfishly down at me.

  I giggled. “I’m serious,” I said.

  “You’re right. I really should stop swearing. There is only one way to break me of the habit, of course,” he said seriously.

  I caught the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and couldn’t help myself asking, “What? What would it take?”

  “It’ll take a lot—a lot of you. A whole heaping lot. It will very possibly take years, as well, before I am willing to reduce the fucks and simply make do with the farts,” he said facetiously. I smacked him for his silliness. Then, rolling over to straddle him on his back, I lazily massaged his shoulders.

  “Hmmm,” murmured Erin contentedly. I grinned down at his languishing frame. I had him just where I wanted him. I massaged some more, lulling him into a false sense of security before I slowly shifted around ‘til I was facing his delectable ass.

  Smack!

  There was a shocked silence—one I wasn’t about to waste.

  Smack! Smack! Sma—

  I got tackled down and under, and then, he was slipping in his hardened length, pushing deep until he hit my molten core. Panting hard, he withdrew slightly before slamming back in, hard. I cried out. That intensely sweet feeling, coiling up for another backlash. I stared up at his intense stare of fierce concentration and felt all my love for him bubble up inside.

  “Fuck me,” I pleaded, wanting what he did best. The raw and elemental loving that was nothing less than purely Erin. I wanted him all. All of who he was. His very essence to meld into mine, to melt into me. I raised a caressing hand down the roughness of his cheek, and his almost frantic pace slowed to sensual thrusts that rocked me whole—that rocked my world.

  This time, we came together in a gentle, sweetly intense finish as contrary to our rough start as imaginable. I strained against him, holding him close, even as he held me.

  “I’ll never make it to our honeymoon at this rate,” Erin muttered feebly against my throat. I felt his hot breath fan out in a ripple across my sensitized breasts.

  He was right. We would wear ourselves out before the big day. I sighed contentedly, not really caring. I had all I wanted right here in my arms.

  “You’ll have to come with me to Canada for the rest of my photoshoots. There’s no way I’d survive a day without you,” he huffed out determinedly.

  I only nodded my head agreeably. I couldn’t part with him either. I needed him more. I had already planned on tackling him about tagging along. He saved me the effort. But then, there was also that need I had for speaking to my beloved little sister.

  I emerged out of Erin’s room much later that day, ready to face his parents in a one-to-one meeting. Liking it or not, I would have to accept them just as they had to accept me. Comforted in knowing Erin had my back, even though he still laid on the bed sleeping, I was dressed in his discarded shirt and a fresh pair of his briefs as I peeked out into the living room before tip toeing on to the kitchen. Despite past experience, I still retained an unreasonable amount of hope that food would be found somewhere in that vast, spotless kitchen.

  What I found was Mrs. Lintel, Erin’s mother. With his dad having passed on some years back, Mrs. Robertson had remarried to become Mrs. Lintel. And although Erin refused to accept him as such, Dorian Lintel was as much his father as Nancy Lintel was his mother. I eyed Mrs. Lintel warily before looking around for Mr. Lintel and then Jarod. But as far as I could tell, they were not here.

  “Do you know,” said Nancy Lintel suddenly, “all I have ever wanted was for Erin to find himself a nice girl and get married. I think it’s what every mother wants for her son. Don’t you think?”

  I nodded my head mutely, feeling terribly self-conscious to be found clad in next to nothing by my future mother-in-law.

  “Erin has always been a beautiful boy. Even as a child, people would come up to me, complimenting his looks,” she continued on, seemingly bent on delivering whatever message this conversation was about. “I used to worry about him. He has always been a soft touch. He has a big heart, you see. But my worries were for naught. He wears cynicism on his sleeves. This world he lives in has made him so. It made him hardened. Toughened.” She turned crinkled green blue eyes to stare at me. “Then, I worried some more. I worried over what made him so. What had he suffered to snuff out his boyhood innocence and make him into the man he was? I worried he would never again be the boy he used to be.”

  Rising to her feet, she rounded the kitchen stool she had been perched on and came to stand before me, her eyes staring searchingly into mine. I stared back.

  “I see glimpses of that boy again,” she said, her eyes softening slightly. “I see him, when Erin is with you.”

  Nancy Lintel moved on past me then, pausing only as she reached the front door. “Let me know if you need any help with the wedding. And …
tell him I love him.”

  I watched her leave, feeling a little overwhelmed. I believed I’d just gotten Nancy Lintel’s tentative blessings to wed her son. I wasn’t quite sure how to process that just yet. Did that mean I should be calling her ‘Mama’ the next time we bumped into each other? For all her Italian heritage, she looked nothing like a Mama. Thin, slim, and petit—she was too elegant for that sort of labelling. And what did this mean with the rest of Erin’s family? Did they all accept me, or was it just her?

  The growling of my hungry stomach had me rechanneling my thoughts away from Erin’s family and on to more important things, like food.

  Chapter 4

  I spent the rest of few remaining hours of that day packing and then flying off to my pre-wedding honeymoon. At least that was how I thought of it since I would be staying across luxury hotels while being pumped hard by my fiancé between takes.

  Hardly the most romantic description, but then, romance is over rated. I liked it real. I liked it raw. And Erin was and did both.

  I rummaged around my closet space for something revealing and skimpy and came up empty. Even my swimsuit was a bloody one piece. I shook my head in disgust. After all this time modeling, there was no difference to my wardrobe other than the few outfits I had acquired for socializing. I didn’t want to wear those on holiday. Those slinky, short, almost-bare-all things were work clothes. Nothing more.

  I needed something that was me and sexy as hell too. And worse yet, I needed it now. I tossed away the clothes clutched in my hands and then dived into the heap already scattered across my bed. My phone was in here somewhere. I rummaged around, searching. It was here; I was sure of it.

  “What are you doing?” chuckled Erin, lounging naked by the door. After leaving his apartment for mine, Erin decided we really needed to christen my place with our acts of carnal pursuits. I couldn’t but agree. After all, this would be our first time doing the dirty here as an engaged couple. I had happily stripped away and surrendered to his mastery and creativity.

 

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