My Christmas Carol: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance (A Man Who Knows Who He Wants Book 220)

by Flora Ferrari

  Her chest touches my arm and I feel it all over again, the mental image of her half-naked.

  Her bent over.

  That ass.

  “Carol?” I ask, nearly gasping. “Would you like me to take you home?” I ask, feeling her body shrivel away from mine as she reddens, her face darkening.

  She lets go of my arm.

  “I can make my own way, it’s alright,” she says defensively.

  “No,” I almost shout. “I won’t let you.” She jumps a little, but I recover myself.

  “Let me take you home, Carol, maybe we could grab a bite so you see I won’t bite after all,” I tell her, finally able to breathe once she agrees after thinking about it.

  “Your treat,” she says. “The crappy pay in this place wouldn’t pay for a day’s rent let alone food,” she says, trying to laugh.

  And I feel that stab in my chest again.

  “What do you mean?” I ask her as we both stop, her sighing as she reaches for her crumpled check, feeling more confused than ever.

  “This is what I got after the costume ‘deposit,’” she tells me, and we both realize she still has it on.

  “Ah, crap! My bag, my keys,” she groans, scrunching the check back up after snatching it from me.

  “I had no idea,” I confess. Twenty-five dollars for five hours of work.

  I feel sick inside.

  But more than that. I don’t want her to disappear.

  I won’t.

  “Can you get your things tomorrow?” I ask, “I mean, it’s just I think they’re up now,” I observe.

  Glancing around, we see the shutters coming down and the security guards and janitors coming out.

  “I suppose I could have my buildings super let me in,” she sighs. “But I couldn’t let you take me home, it’s miles away,” she protests.

  Feeling her lean back into me once I slip my arm in hers makes me feel better as I head for the exit I know where we can get a cab.

  “You don’t think I look ridiculous walking around like this?” she asks, looking suddenly self-conscious.

  “I think you look-” I start to say, stopping myself before I say too much.

  Her eyes grow wide in question as we step outside.

  “I think you look beautiful,” I tell her. Hoping it gives word to at least some of this feeling between us.

  I know she feels the same, I just know she does. She has to.

  Getting us into the nearest cab, I notice the driver’s look once he scans Carol’s costume.

  “Problem?” I ask him, not hiding my annoyance until he seems to recognize me from about the place.

  “Uh, no sir. No problem, where to?” he asks, smiling.

  I lift a brow at Carol’s eyes in the rearview.

  Feeling that stab in my chest deepen when she tells him her address.

  It’s a shitty side of town, and not one I’d want to see her in by herself let alone have to live there.

  I file it all away, along with the bullshit about how much people like Carol get paid.

  For now, I want to enjoy her.

  Enjoy our time together.

  I try to make some small talk along the way, but I can see her face falling the closer we get to her place, especially once we cross the bridge.

  “You don’t have to come up,” she says once we get there, the cab parked at the curb and throwing off more light than there is in the doorway.

  “Oh yes I do,” I tell her, slipping the cabbie some cash and scanning the dark street for trouble as I watch his taillights and exhaust disappear into the cold night.

  Out of reflex more than experience, I have to admit.

  “Who?” A gruff voice shouts, fuzzy through the intercom once Carol buzzes her super.

  “Carol Perkins, Mr. Jelso. From number 203.”

  There’s a loud grunt and then a click.

  Carol guides me through the dark to the open door, and again as we reach a staircase.

  “Elevator’s busted,” she explains.

  I can feel myself getting annoyed more and more by the second.

  And it’s not Carol’s fault.

  None of it.

  It looks like the hallway light’s busted too, and I’ve already made up my mind.

  Carol’s not spending another night here, not if I have anything to say about it.

  We stand in the dark, close to each other and my hand reaches for hers, pulling her close as I’m about to tell her so.

  I can feel her trembling under my grip in the darkness, shivering through her costume.

  Without even thinking anymore, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, I lean in to kiss her.

  My face getting closer to hers, feeling her lips so close to mine as they part to melt us together.

  “Perkins… 203,” A rough voice drawls from the other end of the hall, mixed with the jangling of a keychain.

  I feel Carol gasp and step back with a start as I make out the short figure hustling towards us, the orange glow of a cigar stub all that’s lighting the space between us.

  “And who are you dressed as?” he asks roughly, ignoring me until he unlocks her door and flicks the light on.

  “Jesus,” he exclaims, looking up at me. “I thought you were a God dammed Christmas tree she’d dragged home,” he rasps.

  I hear my knuckles crack, which he ignores.

  “Oh, by the way, sweet cheeks. A month’s rent by morning or I’m callin’ the cops. I’ve had it with your bullshit stories. You’re not even cute. At least Marlene in 604 can suck my dick to cover some of her rent,” he sneers.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Carol

  My fingers dig into Lucian’s arm as I feel him lurch towards my landlord, growling.

  I’m in enough trouble as it is, I don’t need assault charges on top of my impending eviction.

  “Leave it, Lucian, please?” I beg him, feeling him stop but not relax as he watches Jelso disappear around the stairwell, laughing to himself, puffing like a horrible old steam train.

  “How much do you owe?” he asks me, not taking his eyes off the space where Jelso stood.

  I shift, uneasy on my feet. This is more than embarrassing.

  “Twelve hundred,” I whisper, feeling my lower lip quiver and a hot tear slid down my cheek.

  How did I think I was gonna make any of this work?

  Lucian doesn’t flinch, he’s like stone.

  “You’d better go,” I tell him. “I don’t want any-”

  “You won’t have any,” he says gently. “No trouble from me. But I’m not going anywhere without you Carol. That’s a promise.”

  “Oh Lucian, what am I gonna do?” I hear myself gasp, all the tears coming now. All bravado gone.

  I hate this apartment, the crappy jobs I have to take to even try and keep it, but now I have nothing.

  Nothing and nobody all over again.

  The story of my life so far.

  His firm grip brings me to my senses as his feet push mine inside, the door locking behind him as I feel his heaving body against my chest.

  A chest suddenly stiff from the memory of him, the scent of him, and the sheer size and strength of him.

  “You’re coming with me Carol, no if’s and’s or but's. Got it?” he orders, pulling me extra close and I feel firsthand that those weren’t… those aren’t pleats at the front of his pants.

  “Kiss me,” he says, making me gasp louder, then start to shiver as he says it again, leaning closer.

  “Kiss me and then feel my cock,” he demands, firmer now and louder. So loud I worry someone will hear.

  I worry I will be too.

  But I do it.

  I do it and I love it, his warm lips are suddenly on mine, pressing harder as we both struggle to breathe, and with one hand on his jaw, I feel my other doing as he says.

  I stifle a louder moan, finally whimpering as I start to pump a flat palm against what feels like a tree trunk in his pants.

  I try to get hold
of it, but my hand slips, making him growl low.

  “Good girl,” he whispers in my ear, taking my whole lobe in his mouth, pressing it between his teeth until I find my grip on his cock through the fabric of his pants.

  Meanwhile, one of his own huge hands has grabbed my waist. The other sliding right up between my legs, making me see stars that pop in the dim light behind my closed eyes.

  His large fingers slowly and gently bunch together, opening my sex for him through my panties under my costume while his thick thumb finds its mark. A slick and instant line of hot moisture seeps through everything.

  My swollen clit feels like it’ll burst if he doesn’t do something to make me come.

  Right freaking now.

  “Lucian,” I gasp again, but he’s already moving me over towards my couch, which also happens to be my bed.

  A fold out I never bother to pack away because… well. Why would I? It’s not like I have company every day.

  And this morning I didn’t think I’d have God’s gift to women about to lay me out on it, that’s for sure.

  “I want you, Carol. I want you to be mine,” he murmurs, lying me flat as the whole couch creaks under his weight.

  My hands move around his thick neck, pulling him closer, wanting him to press against me with all his weight. Needing him as close to me as possible.

  I have a million reasons to argue why an older guy like Lucian could never go for a younger, thick girl like me.

  But the charge from his hands, his whole body, and most of all, that huge hot rod prodding my belly; I know this is the only thing that matters right now.

  If I’m about to be homeless, I may as well go out smiling.

  “Say you’ll be mine,” he orders, his thumb finding its mark yet again, slipping into my drenched pussy as I feel myself start to buck against it.

  “I’m yours,” I wheeze, feeling my whole body jerk and my eyes start to roll once his touch and voice make me lose all control.

  “Lucian… I’m gonna…” I gasp again.

  Calmly but surely, he slips off my Mrs. Claus skirt, revealing my drenched lace panties that my hungry hole is already eating.

  With another low growl of satisfaction, he examines me, but only for a moment before he peels them to one side and presses his whole mouth over my now twitching hole.

  I grunt, pushing my whole body up against him, my hips starting to rotate and squirm once both my hands find his silky soft hair, pressing him so hard against me, his tongue so deep inside me I wonder how he can even breathe.

  I wonder if I’m even breathing, jerking, and grinding against his face, his huge hands gripping my ass cheeks which he starts to pull and push together, my juices running between my cheeks.

  It’s too much. I can’t stop what’s coming and I whine louder, trying to say his name and trying to will myself not to come so I can enjoy him for just a little longer.

  “Mine!” he growls loudly, the vibrations traveling so far up inside me, it’s like a key unlocking a floodgate of all my emotions.

  Yielding to him, to my own climax, I know I’ll be his.

  As I start to come, he grunts and groans, savoring my essence in his mouth and spreading it inside my thighs with one of his hands now, sucking and biting them once my shudders become shakes and tremors.

  Once he knows he’s finally staked his claim by showing me how he plans to pleasure me not just once, but over and over again, and forever from now on.

  That’s what being his means.

  I understand it fully when he lets me taste myself in his kiss.

  I reach for his zipper, noticing I’m still half-dressed, a vague memory of my crappy apartment flashing across my mind.

  I know he wants to claim me properly. And I know I want him inside me.

  “I’m a virgin,” I hear myself say softly. “I’ve never even kissed anyone, Lucian,” I confess.

  I feel hot, flushed from shame but hearing his groan of approval and then seeing his smile so close to my own mouth, I know it’s just what he wants to hear.

  “Good,” he says, a matter of fact. “Then you won’t have any problem learning just how much pleasure I want to give you… and how you’ll take it.”

  “I’ll be your first and you’ll be my only. That’s a promise,” he says, kissing me so hard and pressing his body over mine again, I can’t help but feel another quaking climax building before he lifts himself up, resting on his huge arms.

  “What is it?” I ask, scared I’ve done something wrong.

  “Not here though,” he says to himself, shaking his head.

  “I lost myself just now, Carol. You’re just so fucking perfect I just had to...Well. Let’s get out of here if you’re okay with that?

  Feeling my head bob, I don’t even know where we’ll go or what we’ll do.

  But I do know why.

  Because it’s Lucian that’s why.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Lucian

  I tell her to pack a bag. “Lots of these,” I demand, holding up her panties with one finger, figuring we’ll be going through a few sets if I have anything to do with it.

  “Where are you going?” she asks nervously as I make for the door.

  “Gotta see a man about some rent. What’s your super’s apartment number?” I ask her, noticing her scared look.

  “101,” she murmurs, and I hear my knuckles crack.

  “Don’t cause any trouble, Lucian,” she begs me, following me to the door until I instruct her to stay put.

  “Lock it until I come back,” I tell her, kissing her before I go, not taking another step until I hear the lock click from the other side.

  A quick call to an associate reveals a little more about the building and the super’s position in it.

  “I see, thanks.” I let them know, asking if they can send a car and some hand sanitizer for me at this address before hanging up and popping my neck.

  I follow the smell of stale cigars to the first floor apartment, knocking gently with all the knuckles of my right hand.

  In my left hand is a neat roll of hundred dollar bills.

  Twelve to be exact.

  “Ah, Jesus Christ Bananas. Who is it?” he yells from the other side of the door.

  “Marlene,” I announce. Probably not sounding like her, but who knows?

  The TV sound dies down, there’s a clanking of bottles and heavy steps until the door swings open.

  Piece of shit’s saved me a lot of trouble.

  He’s only wearing a bathrobe and a stained T-shirt.

  “The fuck you want?” he barks. Eyeing me and then the hallway, reaching for something behind the door.

  But it’s no good.

  It won’t do.

  I kick the door and him back inside his apartment, smashing his cigar stub across his bloody nose before I grab him by the neck.

  Turning him over, I lift his robe, revealing my reason for visiting.

  I won’t go into too much detail, but after finding a dish glove in the kitchen I make a twelve hundred dollar deposit of my roll of bills where the sun doesn’t shine as fuck face squeals like a lamb and adds new meaning to the phrase dirty money.

  He’s twitching and quivering on the floor by the time I wash my hands and step over him to leave, flicking the used glove into his face.

  “You’ll be out by nine a.m. or I’ll be back to pay Carol’s rent six months in advance the same way, got it?” I ask him.

  He nods feverishly, sweat and blood mixed with stale smoke and something else, some other smell all over him.

  “Don’t make me come back and check now,” I warn him and make my way back up to Carol.

  Fuck, I should’ve got a receipt. My accountant’s a stickler for those things. Ah well.

  Carol’s nervous by the time I get back but relieved once she sees me in one piece.

  “What did you do?” she asks, noticing my calm smile as I lean in to kiss her.

  “Just had a few calls to make, a car will be here
any minute, you ready?” I ask, noticing she’s changed, holding her a small suitcase and a glint in her eye which tells me everything I need to know.

  “Just tell me I’m not making a fool of myself,” she says suddenly, right before we leave.

  I get it. I kind of had the same thought, right up until she exploded in my mouth.

  I doubted such a young, beautiful girl could see anything in me.

  I guess everyone has their own hang ups.

  I lean in close again, holding her neck as I press my forehead against hers.

  “You’re mine now, Carol. You don’t need to worry about a thing,” I tell her truthfully.

  “What did you do to Mr. Jelso?” she asks knowingly, and I have to stifle a grin.

  “You don’t need to worry about him, or the apartment Carol. That’s all taken care of. Let’s go, huh? D’you know a good place to eat around here?” I add.

  “Nothing around here’s nice,” she moans, pulling the door shut three times before it closes.

  “Then we can head out someplace, or would you like to come back to mine?” I ask her, noticing how tired she suddenly looks.

  “Mine it is,” I decide for her.

  The car pulls up just as we step out, and holding the door open for her after taking her suitcase, I can see the wheels turning in her head before I slip in after her.

  “Who are you?” she asks me bluntly once I tell the driver to take us home and raise the privacy screen I’ve missed all day.

  “I’m Lucian,” I remind her, pulling her close and relaxing only once I feel her melt into me, her hand resting on my chest.

  “And you’re mine, Carol,” I tell her again, hearing my stomach groan and making us both laugh.

  “Hungry?” she asks me, and I know she is too. I can just tell.

  “Starving, even though I did eat already,” I joke, tickling her ribs and feeling the weight of her chest in my hand.

  Making me think about having the same again for dinner, but we both really need something to eat and some rest I think.

  It’s been a big day, and something else tells me that tomorrow is gonna be a whole lot bigger.

  It’s Christmas Eve, and I figure Carol has to know sooner or later.

  One way or the other.