My Roommate's Dad: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  I almost walk into Finn when he stops in front of one of the doors and produces the key, deftly unlocking it with a twist of his wrist that makes the hotel-branded keychain jingle. I’m excited to see what awaits us inside the room, I can’t lie. I’ve been curious about that since we pulled up outside this morning and I saw how grand the building is.

  When Finn opens the door and ushers me to step inside first, I immediately begin to see why so many people of means decide to stay here. Everything looks brand new and is of the highest possible quality. This isn’t the cramped kind of hotel room I’m used to, where you have to almost stand on the toilet to get a shower and the one bed is made of what feels like saggy cardboard. There are no itchy blankets, no curtains that don’t quite cover the window, no malfunctioning A/C.

  No, this room is almost a home in itself. The bathroom features a magnificent marble bathtub, two sinks with two mirrors and vanity lights, mood lighting in every room adjusted from a central tablet, a huge widescreen television facing the plush king sized bed, all kinds of free utilities and samples, a blackout blind controlled by the same tablet or by voice command…

  It’s more than I’ve ever dreamed of.

  “This can’t be normal for you, surely,” I say, staring around in awe. “You’re exaggerating.”

  Finn laughs. “Alright, in this case, maybe,” he says. “When I come out here, I usually drive home again for the evening. But then, I never had anyone to stay here with.”

  I smile, turning to him. My heart is fluttering in my chest like a caged bird. “Now you do.”

  “Now I do,” Finn agrees, breathing in, his hand coming up to stroke my hair. He runs his fingers down the side of my face, considering me. “Why don’t you have a relaxing bubble bath?”

  I suppose he must have realized that I’m nervous. I’m glad that he picked up on it, and also that he didn’t say anything. It would have only made things worse – but this way, I can pretend that all I want is a nice soak and that it’s not about calming my nerves at all.

  “That sounds lovely,” I tell him, just about keeping the tremor out of my voice. It’s not as though I’m having second thoughts – I still want this, like nothing else. But I’m still nervous because this is all new to me. Even if I trust him, I also hope that it won’t be terrible – that he won’t decide we have no compatibility in bed, and everything was a waste.

  Finn moves to pour me the bubble bath as I undress, taking off the beautiful new gown that he bought for me and laying it carefully on the back of a chair. Then I hesitantly step forward, in only my underwear now. Finn turns from where he sits on the side of the tub, one hand in the water to check its temperature, and his eyebrows rise.

  He doesn’t say anything, but I can sense him drinking me in with his eyes. As much as I want to hide and cover myself up out of embarrassment, I also love the way he looks at me, the way his eyes worship me. I let him look at me, until he switches off the water, and stands in front of me.

  I have to look up at him now, he stands so tall above me. The nerves come back with a vengeance, fluttering away inside my stomach, making me wonder if this was all a bad idea. But it can’t have been – because here I am, with Finn, and he’s looking at me like I’m the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. And even though the nerves remain, they don’t overwhelm me. Not when he’s looking at me like that.

  He reaches slowly behind me, holding me tight against him as he does so, and reaches around behind me to the clasp of my bra. With quick fingers he unhooks it and lets it hang loose against my body, moving back again so that he can slowly draw the straps downwards over my arms. When the fabric has moved far enough, the cups fall away from my breasts, uncovering them for his eyes to admire. Even if he’s seen me before, this is so different – without anything to hide behind, I feel vulnerable and open. But Finn makes me feel safe, even as he drops my bra to the floor and then reaches for the sides of my panties.

  He kneels before me as he hooks the fabric and drags it down, slowly again, over my legs and knees, down to my feet. He lifts my feet for me one at a time until I’m free of every scrap of clothing, and then wordlessly stands and offers me his hand.

  It’s like I’m under a spell. Gentle, low mood music is playing from somewhere, I guess something that Finn set up earlier, and the smell of rose petals wafts from the bathtub. Finn leads me the few steps over toward it and supports me as I climb in, sitting down and then laying against the comfortable curve of the tub, feeling it cradle my body.

  Finn kisses my hand and then lets it go, and reaches for something beside the tub. “Maybe we should get something for later,” he suggests. “A bit of supper. What do you think?”

  I almost want to protest – what about the amazing meal we just had – but come to think of it, I could eat again. The food there was high-quality and delicious, but the portions weren’t huge. I could go for something small, just to round off the night.

  “What are the options?” I ask.

  Finn takes a seat on a conveniently placed step by the bath and begins to read the menu to me, and when we agree on something, he gets up to go through to the other room. I hear him placing the call to room service and close my eyes, slipping a little further under the bubbles, letting myself relax. I can breathe. Finn isn’t here to take advantage of me, and this isn’t just a weekend thing. This is real. The two of us – it’s for keeps. I know that now. I want to be here – there’s nowhere in the world that I could think of where I’d want to go right now.

  I wonder vaguely if I should start to wash. I’m in a bath, after all. But this bath was only for the purpose of helping me relax, nothing else – so maybe I should just get out and go to him.

  Finn appears in the doorway again, startling me and making me blink. “The order’s booked,” he says, coming to kneel in front of the bathtub again. I look at him owlishly, wondering why he’s down there. “Just relax. Here, let me help.”

  He picks up a soft bath mitt hanging from the side of the bath – complimentary, I guess – and tears off the tissue paper keeping it clean. Before I can even say a word he slips it onto his right hand and then reaches into the water to take hold of my hand. I’m too much under a spell right now to even say a thing about him getting wet, and I can only watch as he lifts my hand into the air and dips the mitt into the water before rubbing it in soft circles across the back of my hand.

  He turns my arm to wash my palm, making me shiver as it tickles me. Heat floods me, and not just my face. How can something so normal feel so sensual? The feeling only increases as he moves those slow circles up over my forearm, then my upper arm, all the way to my shoulder.

  The motion is a part gentle massage, a part tickling of my nerves, and all wonderful. Slowly and surely, with a pattern and rhythm all his own, Finn moves across and takes my other arm, and starts the whole process again. When he reaches my left shoulder, I’m almost disappointed. It felt so nice, I didn’t want it to end.

  When Finn lets go of my arm I sink back against the tub, expecting him to move away. Instead, he moves only a little distance down the tub, where he reaches into the water again and lifts my foot, pulling my leg up above the water. I give a little gasp of surprise and then close my eyes as he begins to rub the top of my foot with the mitt, making me feel like I’m drifting away on a cloud. I could do this all day. I really could.

  A light tickle across the sole of my foot that almost makes me pull away, and then Finn’s hand begins to stroke over my ankle, my calf, my lower leg, always in those slow circles that seemed designed exactly to relax my muscles and to bewitch me. My head lolls against the tub behind me as he reaches my knee, then strokes up, up, up…

  And up. My eyes fly open as his hand sweeps up across my inner thigh, getting closer and closer to touching me between my legs. The heat in my belly increases as I think of him reaching that spot, of the mitt inflaming my nerves. I watch him now, waiting and waiting, but the mitt always seems to stop just shy of giving me what I’m waitin
g for.

  And then Finn gently lowers my foot back into the water and takes my other leg.

  Now I know what this is – not a gentle romantic massage, but torture. Once again he begins from my foot and, just when I think that I might be starting to calm down, his mitt moves up to my thigh again, and sweeps closer, closer. Even the gentle motion of the water in the tub against my sensitive lips is starting to drive me wild, so focused as I am on every single sensation. Just a little closer – just one my sweep, and then he’ll –

  Finn lets my foot go, and shifts again, closer to me, the mitt moving back up to my shoulders. I want to groan out loud. I want to shout something. He must know what he’s doing to me.

  The mitt slowly works across my shoulders and down, over the notch between my collarbones, over my chest. And now I slowly begin to realize that there is one more place he might touch me – that he might…

  And all my prayers are answered when Finn’s hand sweeps over my breasts, at first just circling the top of my flesh, then down, down, until finally, he rubs one by one over my nipples. By the time he’s done they are standing up at attention, so hard it almost hurts, and I’m panting for breath at the sensations elicited by those gentle rubbing motions.

  When I look at Finn’s face, I see a smile curving his lips, and I know that he’s enjoying this. He’s playing with me – deliberately giving and then taking away, as his hand in the bath mitt begins to gently sweep over my stomach. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I anchor my head back against the tub again and let my legs drift further open, raising my hips, letting him know exactly where I want him to be. The bubbles have all but dispersed and I know he can see me through the water, see what I want him to take.

  Finally, after what feels like an eternity of waiting, the mitt sweeps across the bottom of my stomach – then down again – then across my bikini area – and finally, finally, finally – he touches the most sensitive part of me, making me shudder with the first contact.

  The circles become smaller and tighter, focusing in on the one part of me that seems to bring the most pleasure, sending streams of it flooding my mind, making me close my eyes and moan deep in my throat. I abandon all other thought, only able to focus on that sensation, his fingers deftly circling, again and again, the texture of the mitt providing even more friction than normal. I raise my hips until my body is thrust out of the water, and Finn removes the plug so the water begins to slowly drain away as he circles and circles and circles, driving me half out of my mind.

  It doesn’t take long. The water hasn’t even finished draining before I find myself uttering a wordless cry and jerking my hips forward, the pleasure falling over me like a curtain that seems to envelop every part of me, coating me from head to toe. I twitch and throb under his hand until he stops, leaving me to ride out the last of the high, feeling it fill me with warmth and golden light.

  And when I open my eyes and look at him, I know from his face that it’s not over. There’s more to come – and possibly the greatest pleasure yet.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Finn

  I can’t wait any longer. And the most beautiful part of it is that I don’t have to.

  I’m rock hard as I watch her twitch and writhe in the tub, the last of the water disappearing around her, leaving her glowing from within with a blissed out look on her face. I gave her that look, and I want to give her another.

  And this time, I will take my own pleasure at the same time as I claim her. Now, I make her mine, irrefutably, leave my mark on her. Fill her with my seed, show her the final part of what I can give her. Pleasure, infinitely, and the possibility of more, of a family, of a life together.

  I reach down and take her by the hands to help her stand as she comes around from her afterglow, making sure that she doesn’t slip in the last of the water. Rather than helping her down I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her, wet and dripping in more ways than one, setting her down in front of me.

  “Your shirt.” Candy exclaims. “It’s wet.”

  “You’re right,” I say, and pull at the collar, tearing it off over my head. Before it even hits the ground I’m kissing her, claiming her lips, devouring her insatiably. Candy’s hands fly up to my chest, warm on my bare skin, and I pull her in closer to me until my hardness presses against her. She moans into our kiss and I break off just long enough to lift her again, feeling her legs instinctively curve around mine as I carry her through to the bed.

  I drop her gently and carefully down onto the sheets, breaking the kiss again to stand in front of her as she lays before me, spread open and waiting. I growl deep in my throat, needing to be inside her already. This is the right time, and I can see from her face how much she wants it.

  I drop my pants to the floor and then tear down my underwear, hearing her gasp as my cock springs free, so hard it points right up at the sky. I look at her and see a flicker of doubt, of nerves.

  “Don’t worry,” I say, palming myself and watching her. “It may look big to you now, but I’ll fit.”

  “Are you sure?” Candy asks, her voice breathy.

  I only grin.

  I crawl onto the bed over her, our naked bodies aligning as I lean down to kiss her again, deep and hungry. Her hands come up to grip my sides, and I lean on one hand to free the other for caressing her face, her breasts, down to her hip.

  I angle myself at her entrance as we kiss, then pull away to look into her eyes. The unspoken question in mine is answered there she’s ready. She nods once and I use my hand to slowly and carefully guide myself inside, just a tiny bit at a time, only as much as she can handle. I see her eyes open wide in surprise at the way it feels, then relax again; when I push in a little further the flare is there again, before she relaxes into the new sensation. I fill her inch by inch like this, only going as far as she can take, rocking back a little from time to time before pushing in again.

  Again, and again, until I fill her completely, and the both of us gasp in pleasure, our breath coming ragged together.

  Then it’s only a matter of primal instinct taking over. The urge to move is built in, along with the instructions. I begin slowly at first, gently, aware of her need to adjust to this. I see how my care changes her face from tense to blissful, how her moans get lower, how she begins to rock her hips upwards to meet me.

  I increase the tempo, bidden by the urgent need to drive into her again and again, to bury myself inside her only for the urge to tell me to move. I look into her eyes and then kiss her deep and heavy, our tongues entwining in time with our hips, crashing against each other, building and building.

  Soon there is not enough oxygen in the room even to do that. I can only cling onto her and thrust, the slick motion between our bodies the only thing that matters, getting close to the edge. I hold back for her, look down into her eyes, and see how they slide closed in pleasure, how she throws her head back. Her hand’s fist in the covers and I keep up the tempo and friction, driving into her until she lets out a great cry and a shudder runs through her body. I feel her constrict around me, then pulse and throb, like she’s trying to milk the very life out of me – and I come, emptying myself inside her, groaning loud and gasping her name.

  I flop down beside her, still caught in the throes of the afterglow, letting it wash over us like the heady intoxication of wine.

  “Oh, my god,” Candy says, between pants for breath.

  “I know,” I tell her. I pause before adding more. “Shall we do it again?”

  “God, yes,” Candy says, and I laugh, kissing her shoulder as we regain our strength.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Candy

  The weekend is over all too soon. Before I can get my breath, we’re traveling back home, sitting in the backseat with Bernard upfront. The car is laden down with a few more bags than it was when we set out, but it’s lighter by one thing my virginity. And I’m so, so glad to be leaving it behind – especially in the way that we did.

  “I don’t want
to ever go back,” I sigh.

  Finn smiles, winding our fingers together on the seat between us. “You don’t have to,” he says. “You could quit if you like. Come live with me. I’ve told you, you won’t need to work. I’ll look after you.”

  I smile at the image. “I would love to live with you,” I say. “But I do want to work. And for that, I need to finish college. So, as much as I like the sound of the offer, I’d better stick it out.”

  “It’s your choice.” Finn’s thumb traces over the back of my hand. “We’ll go straight back to the campus, so I can help you with your bags.”

  “That would be lovely,” I say. I rest my head back against the seat. I think about Alex, about our empty dorm room. At least there’s no longer any risk that we’ll run into her and make things awkward, though I miss having her around. Staying there on my own is going to be lonely, even if I do have Finn to call and meet up with as often as I like.

  It won’t be like this weekend, though. Spending twenty-four hours a day together. The thought that we might one day be able to do that is a good one. I just hope that nothing goes wrong before then.

  Bernard pulls the car into the campus parking lot and I get out, heading to the trunk for my bags. Finn knocks my hand aside with a grin and takes them for me, hefting several in each hand, as if to prove his strength. I roll my eyes but smile, and lead him across campus towards my room, feeling my heart growing heavier with each step.

  We reach the building and step inside, up the stairs and down the hall, past all the people who were staring at me when we left here after my fight with Alex. Most of them seem to have moved on to other things; we only get a few curious glances and smirks from the open doors. It’s nice to know that, no matter what people may think of me, they won’t be interested in talking about me forever. At least we can say that.