His To Claim: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

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His To Claim: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Page 3

by Flora Ferrari


  CHAPTER FOUR

  Arturo

  I didn’t plan on coming here and making this shy intoxicating girl do what I wanted, but when I heard the shower blasting – the last place I expected her to be – something snapped in me.

  I could hardly sleep last night.

  My thoughts were consumed with her, her curvy-as-fuck body in those sweatpants and hoodie.

  And now I see that her clothes weren’t lying.

  Her hips are wide, made for grabbing as I ram her needy hole from behind, slamming into her until she’s squirting and creaming on my cock. Her breasts are big and greedy-looking like they need to be sucked and bitten and maybe even slapped a little, and her ass is the crown fucking jewel.

  I feel unhinged in a way I never have in my entire life as she keeps bending over, her two ass cheeks round juicy bulbs, and then …

  Oh, fuck.

  As she bends all the way over, her ass cheeks frame her pink hole, the flesh around her hole sore looking as though she’s just excited as I am, but she’s trying to hide it because she knows it makes her a bad girl for getting so needy and hot when she should hate me.

  I can’t let her know the power she has over me.

  I can’t let myself go completely, unleash myself like I want to.

  I stalk forward, purposefully taking my time, even though the effort is so difficult I have to grit my teeth and growl like a beast.

  “Stay like that,” I snap when she moves as if to stand up. “I don’t think you understand, do you, Aida? You do what I say when I say it. Fuck, that ass deserves to be spanked. Tell me to spank you, Aida. Tell me you want it.”

  She looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes wide with shock, a proper deer-in-the-headlights look that makes me feel even more like the predator I am.

  “Well?” I snap.

  “I want it,” she whimpers. “Just please don’t humiliate me, Arturo.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t let the other men see me naked. Please. I’ll do anything.”

  “The other men?” I snarl.

  Tears glint in her eyes and she nods, biting her lip in a way that makes me want to pry open that pretty little mouth with the engorged mass of my length. The base is aching and so hard it feels like a river of lava-hot is going to surge up my length and out of my enflamed helm, flooding my pants.

  The outline of my desire must be plain to her.

  Does she think this is some sort of trick?

  As if I’d let another man see her—ever.

  But I can’t tell her the plans I have for her.

  Then she’ll know that she has more power over me than anybody ever has before.

  “Nobody’s going to see you apart from me,” I tell her. “Silly horny girl.”

  I bring my hand down in a soft slap on her ass cheek, savoring the shower-wet feel of it, staring in wonder as the impact reverberates and makes her juicy voluptuous flesh shimmer for me, like a mirage, like an oasis, like a gift.

  “Ah,” she whimpers.

  “That didn’t hurt,” I scold.

  “No …”

  “Oh,” I smirk. “You like it, don’t you, you little freak?”

  She says nothing, turning to give me a pouting look, a downright daring look.

  I spank her again, listening to the way she moans, high pitched and taut as though she’s going to start squirting down those thick beautiful thighs just from the impact alone.

  Again and again, I spank her, always keeping it relatively soft because otherwise, I won’t be able to restrain myself.

  I’ll lose control and tackle her into the bedroom, pin her arms behind her back and pull my cock out of my pants, just my cock, nothing else, leaving me clothed and her naked like the fuck toy she was made to be … but just for me, only for me, always, forever.

  She whimpers and shivers each time I spank her, and then I smooth my hand over her ass cheeks, her skin dappled ever-so-slightly red from the playful punishment.

  I grind my hand down, teasing her asshole with my forefinger, moving it in small circles.

  “I could fuck your ass for days and there’s nothing you could do about it,” I snarl. “You’d just have to take it like my shivering little slut, wouldn’t you? You’re mine now, Aida. You’re lucky I don’t want that right now. You’re lucky I just want to feel you cream.”

  “C-cream?” she moans.

  I laugh grimly.

  “Are you really that naïve? You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

  A look of near-pain flits across her face.

  “Arturo, can I please stand up? I’m not used to being in positions like this. I’m not some yoga master.”

  I almost laugh, not grimly this time, but an actual, real laugh. I catch it before I reveal to her how magnetic she is to me, and then I nod.

  “Yeah, but only because you asked so nicely. Stand up and push yourself up against the shower wall. I still want to look at that ass as I make you squirt. And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’ve … No, I haven’t, not by—”

  “Not by anybody else?” I snap when she cuts off.

  Pushing herself up against the shower wall – and pushing out her ass like she’s reading my mind and knows what I want – she nods.

  “Fucking hell,” I growl.

  This just gets better and better.

  I don’t let myself think about the fact that this is Franco’s daughter, the man who was like a brother to me growing up before he changed everything. None of that matters as I stare at that unbelievably mouth-watering ass.

  All that matters is the stiff tension in my pants and giving this woman something she’s never felt before.

  I stalk forward, walking right up to her, but I’m careful not to let my crotch graze her ass cheeks. I know I’m too far gone to hold myself back if that happened.

  I reach down and grab her thigh, and then grind my palm up toward her creamy slit.

  She gasps and her breath falters when I press my hand against her, against her lips, clit, and hole all at the same time, and then I slide my middle finger down her lips toward her clit.

  Her lips are as delicious as the rest of her, full, big, so much there to explore. I want to grind those big hungry lips for hours, learn all the different spots of her pleasure, tease them, and make her squirt rivers of come for me.

  “I’m going to fuck your tight needy hole with my finger,” I tell her, somehow, miraculously, keeping my voice calm. “And you’re going to cream for me. If you don’t, I’m going to be very fucking pissed off.”

  “No pressure, then,” she whispers, trying for a joke, but her lust-filled moaning belies her.

  “There’s a lot of pressure,” I growl, ignoring her attempt at humor. “When I finger that sweet hole, you’re going to move your hips in time with me. You’re going to ride my finger until you can’t take it anymore. Understand?”

  “Y-yes,” she whimpers.

  “God, you’re so fucking good at taking instructions,” I growl.

  “Is that a good thing—”

  I don’t give her a chance to finish her sentence.

  I shove two fingers into her right away, pushing all the way up to my knuckles, her hole expanding as though in a gasp of surprise. She’s so tight it takes every fiber of self-restraint I have not to pull out my cock and just drive inside of her.

  She falls against the shower wall, letting out shivering moans as the slick sound of her core fills the room, so loud and horny it even rises above the waterfall shower, which still blasts hot water and fills the room with steam.

  I fuck her pussy with my fingers, going as deep as I can, her ass cheeks shivering as her whole body begins to shake in her sudden pleasure.

  “I. Told. You. To. Ride. It.”

  With each word, I shove my fingers into her with even more force.

  She does her best to buck with my movements, but I can tell she’s too lost in her pleasure, her hole getting tighter and tighter around my fingers
with each savage thrust.

  Wet noises dominate the room now.

  “You’ve got a noisy little cunt, don’t you?” I growl.

  “I’m sorry,” she gasps.

  “Quiet,” I command gruffly. “It’s a good thing.”

  “Oh, oh,” she moans. “Freaking hell—Oh, oh.”

  I lean back and watch, getting the best seat in the house as I finger-blast her to outer orbit.

  I pump my entire arm, almost lifting her off the ground so that she has to stand on her tiptoes.

  Her moans become strangled and silent for a second, as though everything inside of her is focused on the fire between her legs.

  But then – as a wonderful torrent of cream begins to surge over my fingers and hand and down her thick thighs – she sings out her lust, the most beautiful singing I’ve ever heard.

  I pound her hard, shoving another finger into her needy-as-fuck cunt, over and over, watching in captivation as her pleasure takes over and she begins to buck and writhe against me.

  A little late to be following my instructions.

  But the show makes up for it.

  Finally, she grows still, panting, laying her cheek against the shower wall.

  The sexiest part is how her body twitches a few times afterward, as though the judders of the orgasm are still boiling through her as aftershocks.

  “Turn around, Aida,” I growl.

  She turns slowly, her azure eyes still wide as though pinned open in shock.

  I bring my come-soaked fingers to her mouth.

  “Suck. Taste yourself.”

  “Ew,” she says, cringing back a little. “No.”

  “No?” I snarl, disbelief ricocheting through me.

  When was the last time I heard no?

  “No,” she says, her lips hardening into a flat, determined line now. “I don’t want to do that. I wanted to do … what we just did. But not that.”

  We hold each other’s gazes for a long moment, and for a second I think about pinning her against the wall and forcing her to suck until every last drop is gone. But as much as she awakens the beast inside of me, I’ll never do anything she genuinely doesn’t want me to.

  And the truth is I respect her.

  No woman in the underworld would’ve refused such a command from Don Arturo Amato.

  “Fine,” I snap.

  I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck greedily, tasting her sweet cream, tasting something else beneath it, as though her body is giving me signals that it’s ready to take my seed and give me children.

  Children.

  I never wanted them before, but looking at her naked wide-hipped body, I know it’d be criminal not to give her body what it so plainly wants.

  She tastes tangy and sweet at the same time.

  She watches me, biting her lip, cheeks reddening.

  “You greedy girl,” I smirk, teasing her gruffly. “You want to taste it now, don’t you?”

  She pauses, and then I see recognition glint in her eyes.

  “You mean … kiss you?”

  I don’t answer with words.

  Kissing her was definitely not part of the plan.

  Fuck, none of this was.

  I grab her by the shoulders and bring my come-soaked lips to hers, crushing hers in the kiss, feeling the smoothness of her lips and tasting her tongue and inside her mouth. I want to drown in a river of her juices, everything she has to offer, and then use them as lube as I pound into her tight cunt.

  I want to sink into her.

  I think I’m already lost.

  What the hell has gotten into me?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Aida

  I truly feel as though I’ve slipped into some upside-down world as we sink into the kiss.

  My breasts tingle like crazy as he pushes up against me, the solid mass of his manhood pushing just as hard against my belly, every part of him muscular and thrumming with tough-as-nails energy.

  I still can’t believe what we just did, the unexpected turn the shower took.

  When I bent over, and he told me what to do, I felt as if I’d fallen into one of the romance novels I sometimes read on my Kindle late at night, my hidden, secret fantasies coming to life, painting my body in even more explosive pleasure.

  Now we explore each other’s mouths, our tongues dancing together.

  He grabs my naked ass cheeks and I try to just focus on now, this moment, not thinking about all the things that could get in the way of it.

  This man stole me.

  This man would toss me aside if I ever talked about the borderline-psychotic thoughts that are still racing through my head, unbidden vignettes of me and him and a family and a future that is just downright absurd considering we only met yesterday, considering I should be using this valuable brain space to plot my escape.

  He growls through the kiss, tightening his hands on my ass cheeks, still sore from his spanking even if it was playful and didn’t cause me any real pain at all.

  No, this is a good sore, my ass cheeks tingling with anticipation of more soft-but-searing spanks.

  Suddenly, Arturo breaks off the kiss, taking a couple of stumbling steps back.

  I gasp at the way his face has changed, his eyes taking on a dark, almost aggressive quality, his lips twisted into something like fury.

  “You make me feel drunk,” he whispers in wonder. “Jesus Christ, Aida, you make me feel …”

  “What?” I urge when he trails off.

  A beat, a moment dripping in possibility, and then his smirk replaces the grimace.

  He leans down and picks up the lime green body wash, casually handing it to me. I get the sense that part of him has retreated from our intimacy, that he’s receded into himself and now he’s fighting his urges, urges he just gave into.

  Or maybe I’m wrong and the whole thing was – in his eyes – just one big mistake.

  “Clean yourself up,” he growls. “We’re having breakfast together and you smell like come. It’s distracting. I’ll leave the dress you’re going to wear on your bed. That’s why I came here in the first place.”

  “So you pick my clothes now?” I say, taking the body wash, our hands briefly touching, sizzling sensation dancing up my arm.

  “Would you rather wear those sweaty rags?” he growls, nodding at my discarded clothes on the floor.

  “N-no,” I say, stunned at this sudden change in him. “In fact, I’d rather go home. I’d rather never see you again.”

  I don’t mean it, but I want to see some sign of pain on his face.

  How can he go from intimate and hot to ice-cold in no time at all?

  He just smirks, his eyes dancing with intense light.

  “I don’t have any clean underwear,” I sigh.

  “Good,” he growls. “I’ll need access to that pussy anytime I want. You should get yourself ready. I’ll be taking it soon. I’ll be fucking you raw and hard, and you’re living in a goddamn dreamland if you think I’m going to use protection.”

  I don’t want you to, something deep within me whispers. I want all of your seed, Arturo. I want you to pump me full of it and until my body has no choice but to give us a child.

  It makes no sense, but as he keeps staring into me, I can’t fight off the urge.

  I whimper, causing my naked body to jiggle. He doesn’t cringe in disgust like I always expected a man to do if he saw me naked. His eyes flit over me and he bites down, and for a second I think he’s trying to stop himself from claiming me again.

  Terror pounds in my chest, a staccato beating.

  “Arturo, I can’t do that,” I whisper. “I can’t …”

  “Fuck, Aida,” he snaps. “Say it. You’re not going to be innocent for long.”

  “Fine,” I snap, finding refuge in some version of sassiness. “I can’t fuck, okay? Happy now?”

  “And why’s that?” he smirks, as though he’s entertaining a stubborn child.

  “Because I’m a …”

  I bite down
, shame pricking at me, every part of me burning red.

  “Can I get a towel?” I murmur. “Or a bathrobe? Something? I feel weird just standing here naked.”

  “After you’ve told me what you were going to say,” he snaps, pinning me in place with those near obsidian eyes.

  “So you’re going to force me to stand here naked.”

  He lunges forward and presses his palm against my sex, cupping it and grinding it up and down against my clit, which is still super sensitive from the first mind-blowing orgasm of my life by a man.

  He rubs it hard, his eyes still fixated on me, smirking, clearly enjoying the absolute power he has over me.

  “Force you?” he snarls. “Look at you, you horny thing. I’m not forcing you to do anything. Tell me, Aida.”

  “I c-can’t …”

  “Tell me or I’ll stop,” he snarls.

  He pushes his hand even firmer against my sex, slipping his finger inside of me and opening up my hole a second time. That deep place inside of me gives another shiver, as though surprised – and yet pleased – that it’s getting a second helping of this dominator’s pleasure.

  I squirm and writhe, and then he cruelly withdraws his hand, putting his arms behind his back and just staring at me.

  “You’re going to make me tell you—naked, after knowing you for less than a day? You’re really going to do that?”

  “It seems like you’re slowly starting to realize what sort of man I am,” he growls.

  I want to tell him I saw what sort of man he was yesterday when his gorgeous Great Dane looked at him with such love.

  I want to tell him I felt it last night when I fell asleep in silk sheets instead of a cold bare cell.

  I want to tell him I know he’s going to make an amazing father, that he’ll always keep me and our children safe, even if I don’t even know who he is and why he kidnapped me.

  But his gaze is unflinching, demanding that I finish my revelation.

  I say the words softly, the only way I can force them to pass my lips.

  “I’m a virgin,” I whisper.

  He takes a step forward, raising his hands as though he’s going to grab me. But then he stops, getting a hold of himself, his breath coming fast now, deep rumbling noises that fill the room, that blast hotter than the shower.

 

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