Madrid With Dad's Best Friend: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Enrique

  When we pull up outside my house, and I watch Lily’s face to see her reaction. At first, she doesn’t seem to understand that we’ve arrived. I’m sure that she was expecting some bachelor pad in the middle of the city, a penthouse suite with glass walls, and spares furniture. But that’s not my style.

  I’m more interested in a permanent home, and that’s what I invested in, somewhere I can see myself growing old. It’s a big, empty old thing at the moment. I have no family with which to fill it. But I always knew that one day, I would start to think about that. One day, I hoped I would meet a woman who was the right one to help me turn this house into a real family home.

  I say house but it’s more of a villa, really. I get out of the taxi and move to Lily’s side quickly to help her out, as she takes in the property behind the huge gates that are even now swinging open electronically. My car is still safely parked out front since there’s not much need for it when getting around in the city itself. If I do ever take my car to work, I run the risk of having to ask Fernando to run it back for me if I stay out for a late client dinner or drinks.

  “This is really your home?” Lily asks, looking up at it in awe. I can’t pretend that her reaction is a surprise. I knew that this house was impressive when I bought it. It’s part of why I bought it. It was a crumbling eighteenth-century home, but due to the damage caused by neglect, I was able to secure permission to modify it as much as I wanted. Now it’s restored to its former glory on the outside, and on the inside, it’s all modern, with new fittings and appliances. I even added several extensions that are faithful to the original style, to provide more space.

  I lead her inside, and the house wakes up with our approach. Literally so. The motion sensors capture our movement and begin my homecoming routine. The lights spring on, gentle music plays, and a pleasant scent wafts from the automatic air fresheners that have just turned on. When I come home, it’s like stepping into an oasis. It will always be that way. Here is where I can be Enrique, the man, separate from work and all of the pressures that it entails.

  “It’s amazing,” Lily breathes, making my head swell with pride. She continues to gasp and exclaim as I lead her into the entertainment room with a cinematic set-up, the dining room with an ebony wood table that could seat twenty, the wide open kitchen with its breakfast bar and sun table.

  And she hasn’t even seen how it looks upstairs yet.

  “I love this whole place,” Lily says. “It’s amazing!”

  “There’s more to show you,” I say, reaching for her hand. She allows me to take it, and from the wild look of excitement in her eyes, I know what she hopes I will say next.

  “Upstairs?” she asks barely concealed desire in her eyes. I must be one hell of a lucky man.

  “Yes, upstairs,” I tell her. But if she thinks we’re going to get right to it, she’s going to be surprised. I promised her I would make this a special day, and I’m not going to go back on that promise.

  I lead her by the hand up to the first floor, where several lavish bedrooms and bathrooms lie unused, the furniture covered with dust sheets. Above is another floor still, with rooms that I have always thought would be perfect for children. But we can think about that later. For now, I lead her to the master bedroom, where tall glass windows give a perfect view down onto the garden below, and the heated pool, sauna shed, and Jacuzzi, all waiting for us to explore another day.

  “Wow,” Lily breathes, but I turn her around, pulling her away from the window again. To the bed. A King size expanse with satin sheets, ready and waiting for her.

  “Wait here,” I say, ignoring her questioning look. I’m not going to give it all away now when we’re so close to the reveal. She just has to be patient a moment longer.

  I retrieve some towels, one I spread across the bed, and the other I hand to her. When she frowns, looking confused, I at last give her instructions.

  “Undressed for me and lay down on your stomach, with the towel across your ass,” I tell her. As much as I would love to stay and take part in the undressing myself, there’s more work to do. And by the expression on her face, I can see that she’s worked out that this will be a massage, and that she loves the idea.

  I leave her for a moment as I fetch a basket of massage oils and scented candles, and by the time I return, she’s laying down as requested. I spare only one moment of thought for the fact that I missed this big moment and quickly set up the room. With my music system changing to something even softer and more relaxing, and the candles lit, we are set.

  This is all about Lily, I remind myself. My pleasure can come later, and it will. For now, I will lavish all of my attention on her, on making sure that she has a good time. What more can I give her than that?

  I rub some of the oils into my hands and begin. First with her shoulders, since that is where we all carry the most tension and which requires the most attention. I begin with smooth, circular movements, pressing down with my thumbs, and keeping my position with my fingers.

  Lily moans at first but then she cries out, so loudly that I instantly stop what I’m doing and take my hands off her.

  “Are you hurt? Lilita?” I ask, afraid that I’ve destroyed our special night by managing to cause her some kind of muscle injury.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Lily

  “Oh, God, no,” I gasp, upset at the removal of his hands from my skin. “Don’t stop, whatever you do. It felt amazing.”

  Above me, I hear Enrique chuckle. “You worried me,” he says.

  “I’m sorry. It just felt so good,” I say. “I didn’t even know how much those muscles ached until you made it go away.”

  “Then I’ll continue,” Enrique says, and I lay there and moan, feeling his hands work out every single bit of tension that I’ve been carrying.

  His hands move away from my shoulders only when I’ve been reduced to a pile of mush, absolutely relaxed and malleable in his hands. Then they cross my body to my left hand, and he begins with the tips of my fingers, massaging every single muscle and bringing a relief I never knew I needed. From my fingers, he moves to my knuckles, the palm, and back of my hand, my lower arm, elbow, upper arm.

  Just as he comes back to the shoulder, his hands move again, to my right side and he repeats the same process. I don’t know if maybe I actually died on the plane over here and this is really heaven, but it can’t be too far off. All of my muscles have becoming jellified, so soft and relaxed under his hands, all of the toxic stress I didn’t know I had leaving my body.

  Then it’s my backs turn, as Enrique carefully and slowly moves down from my neck, with a little more attention on my shoulders again, right down to where the towel covers the only part of me that’s still hidden. Just when I think his fingers will dip below it, and I wonder if now is the time, he moves again, shifting down to the end of the bed, where he picks up my left foot and begins to roll my toes, to massage the muscles in my feet.

  No one has ever shown me this level of attention, not even at a spa. I can’t explain how deeply relaxing it is, how good it feels to have every single muscle in my body worked over. I could almost drift off to sleep, except that I want to be present to find out exactly how this ends.

  From my feet to my ankles, my calves, my knees, my thighs, the sequence repeats. Every time Enrique’s hands brush up against the towel he stops and moves back down again, making me almost want to groan in frustration.

  Until he finishes my second leg, and there is nowhere else for him to go.

  Against my own desire to remain relaxed, I feel myself tensing up a little as his hands slip under the towel for the first time, massaging the very base of my spine. Not because I’m afraid or I don’t want it, but because I want it so badly that it’s like my body is on high alert.

  His fingers drift lower, gently massaging and brushing over my ass, at first so lightly I can barely believe it’s happening. As he moves lower and begins to cup my ass under th
e towel, I can’t hold back a moan. I’m so fired up that every touch is fanning the flames, sending bolts of lightning through me. I find myself fervently willing him to move his hands lower, to kneel down and put his face between my legs like he did last night. I want to feel that again.

  The towel is stripped away from my ass and I gasp at the surprise, at the sensation of the cool air on the skin that was covered. I’m bear for him, as his hands’ cup and squeeze my ass over and over, not only loosening my muscles but also sending heat to the bottom of my belly, desire uncoiling inside of me.

  Finally, his hands slip lower and brush against my lips, as I hoped they would, and I can’t help but cry out loud in pleasure at his touch. His fingers begin to stroke and rub me just as his tongue did before and I feel with a flash of embarrassment how wet I am already, how his fingers are slick as they dip inside me and draw out, as they go deeper, further, actually inside me, and I can’t catch my breath.

  Everything is on fire as Enrique’s fingers toy with me, first stroking around that bundle of nerves that seem to just drive me crazy, then plunging inside of me, just one finger at a time, but already so intense I can hardly bear it. I feel myself climbing higher and higher, each stroke raising me up and up and up –

  And I plunge over the edge again, feeling a shudder run through me, my legs spasming without my control as pleasure spins through all parts of my body, sending me out into that void again, leaving me holding onto the sheets tightly to bring myself back down to earth.

  “Let me look at you,” Enrique says, his voice rough and his accent thick, heavy desire layered in his voice.

  After what he just did, I can’t refuse him anything. I want whatever he wants. I want to have that feeling again and again, to feel that way every night. I roll over, forgetting my shyness, and I’m fully naked in front of him for the first time.

  I look down and I see a bulge in the dark material of his pants, straining to break free, and I can barely catch my breath.

  “I can’t hold off any longer,” he growls, moving back and ripping his shirt off over his head, revealing hard abs and thickly muscled arms that I can’t wait to run my hands over. “I need to be inside you, Lilita. I need you now.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Enrique

  I strip off my clothes as quickly as possible, keeping my eyes on her face as I drop the last item, wanting to see her reaction as my hard rod bobs free. Her eyes widen as she takes in the length and girth of it. I know I’m impressive, and to a girl who’s never done this before, it must seem impossibly big. But she will take it. I know without any doubt that she is the perfect fit.

  I crawl over the top of her, grabbing the towel from our massage and throwing it to the floor, no longer needed. Whatever mess we may make now is evidence of our love, the kind of mess I’d love to make every night with her here. I prowl my body on top of hers and capture her lips in a fierce kiss, pressing my length against her thigh so that she can feel me.

  I prop myself up to touch her breasts, taking them into my hands and squeezing, feeling how her flesh spills out over my fingers, too big to contain. She is all woman, my Lilita, enough of her to satisfy me. I dip my head down and circle my tongue around each of her nipples in turn before biting them gently, making her gasp and moan. I love how vocal she is. For an innocent young woman, she isn’t shy about expressing herself. I want to hear her call out my name. I nip at her throat and shoulders, feeling her hands come around me, nails biting into my shoulders whenever I hit a sensitive spot.

  I slip my finger inside of her again, to see if she’s ready for me. I find her slick and wet, even more so than before, completely open for me. Her legs fall apart easily, and I position myself at her entrance, rubbing my head against her pussy using her own wetness as lubricant.

  “Are you ready?” I ask her, checking her face.

  She’s perfect, eyes heavy with desire, lips swollen from our kisses. “Yes,” she gasps, and what more encouragement could I need? I slip inside her, just the tip, just the smallest amount, and hear her gasp at the stretch and the way I fill her, a completely new sensation for her.

  I give her time as I move slowly, taking it a little bit at a time, waiting for her to adjust before I fill her just a little bit more. In and in I move, watching how her eyes widen, seeing the first strain of the pinching feeling, watching it fade away into pleasure before I move again. At last, I’m all the way inside of her, so deep, so tight and hot and wet, the base of my shaft flush against her entrance, our bodies as close as two bodies can ever be.

  And then I can’t hold back anymore, and I begin to move.

  She gasps quietly at first and then moans, and I begin to pick up the pace at this encouragement. It’s all I can do to hold on, already primed to explode, but I want her to feel this, to know this, to know how it feels. And her moans begin to turn into cries, loud animalistic noises that have no words but all the meaning in the world.

  “Ahh,” I call out, my voice mingling with hers. “Lilita – my Lilita…”

  “Oh, God Enrique!” she calls out, pushing me over the edge, and at the same time, she shudders under me, and her hips jerk. And it’s good, so good, because as she pulses and squeezes around me there’s no way I could hold on, not with my name on her lips, and I spill myself inside her with a strength that even startles me.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Lily

  Enrique flops down beside me on the bed, both of us panting for breath. I feel as though I’m living in a dream, everything lit up with white light, everything special and different and the whole world changed from what it was before.

  Not because I lost my virginity. I don’t think that tired cliché is true. I don’t feel like a changed woman particularly, not compared to how I felt an hour ago.

  But because I think I’m falling in love.

  No, scratch that I’m already there, madly and deeply, and the man beside me who I love has dedicated himself to my pleasure, and I’ve given him his. And I don’t know if there can ever be a better feeling than this for as long as I live.

  When I have my breath again I look at him and roll closer, wanting nothing more than to be by his side, as close by his side as I can manage.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks. He glances past me at something on the dresser, a clock, I guess, though I don’t want to look. Who cares now about a silly thing like time?

  “I suppose I am,” I say. I hadn’t thought about it until now, but the feeling is there. And I could always eat. It must be past time for dinner now, after everything we’ve done since leaving the stores.

  Enrique moves forward and kisses me on the lips, claiming me again for a moment. “I will order something in,” he says. “I don’t want to go out to a restaurant tonight. Is that alright for you?”

  “It’s perfect,” I tell him because I feel the same. In fact, I don’t even want to get dressed. I want to stay right here and do it again.

  Enrique reaches for his phone and starts to scroll through an app, showing me dishes for my opinion. I agree with everything. Whatever he wants to eat is fine by me, and all of the food he’s recommended to me so far has been delicious. I know he will choose correctly for me again.

  “So,” I say, once the order’s been placed and Enrique has put his phone down again. “What do you want to do while we wait for it to arrive?”

  Enrique looks at me, quirking one eyebrow at the look on my face. “You want to go again?”

  “I’ve heard that it’s better the second time,” I tell him, biting my lower lip. I feel like the shyness is right on the edge of my awareness still, but I’m somehow managing to push through it. “I want to find out.”

  “Since it’s in the name of science,” he says, rolling over and positioning his body over mine again, dipping his smiling mouth to kiss me.

  This time, we don’t have to take it so slow. I feel a little sore inside still, but the pain is soon eclipsed by the pleasure, the feeling of Enrique thrusting deep insid
e me over and over again. I wrap my arms around his neck, then squeeze his biceps with my hands. I can’t seem to stay still, the sensations are so intense that I have to keep moving, gripping, holding fistfuls of the sheets beneath me, crying out over and over without any control over my mouth.

  I lift my legs and lock them behind his back, somehow knowing instinctively that this is something I should do, and when Enrique moves again he goes so much deeper, making me gasp and scream, throwing my head back against the pillows. Every sound seems to drive Enrique into a frenzy, making him thrust harder and faster, the power of each inward slide even moving me towards the headboard.

  I look into his eyes as it happens, when the pleasure pushes me over the edge, I make sure to shout his name again, to let him know what I feel, how much I enjoy it. When he hears me call his name, his smooth and rhythmic thrusts turn staccato, and then he’s groaning, filling me with his seed, both of us pulsing together in the throes of our ecstasy.

  And at that precise moment, I hear a chime from downstairs. The doorbell. Our takeouts arrived. We stare at each other for a moment before breaking out into laughter, and Enrique scrambles off me to grab some clothes and run to the door.

  In the morning, I wake to find Enrique sleeping beside me still. He must feel more comfortable in his own home, rather than in the hotel where he woke yesterday, here it’s me who is the stranger, waking up with the light. I ease myself out of bed carefully so as not to wake him, find his shirt on the floor from where he dropped it last night, and slip it on.

  Wearing your lover’s shirt, it’s like something out of a dream. Something that only happens to girls in movies. But I love it. It carries his scent, makes me think of him holding me, and it’s just the right size to cover the important parts so I can feel comfortable to wander around.

  I want to explore the house again. It’s such an amazing house, and yesterday I was too excited and nervous to enjoy it properly. I pad over the carpeted floor to look into the bedrooms, most of them covered over and looking unused. It reminds me of when a family with a rich mansion goes on vacation for a month or so, leaving the furniture protected for when they return.