Possessive Portuguese: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 86)

by Flora Ferrari

  My head turns back towards the port and just then a wave must have come through or something, at least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it, because my knees buckle and my hand jets out finding something to steady myself with before I fall completely over like a top that’s stopped spinning.

  “You okay, buddy? You almost fell again. You drink too much of that delicious port wine last night?” Frank jokes, but I barely hear him.

  I wasn’t drinking, but I was intoxicated for sure.

  We lock eyes and she freezes, giving me the perfect view of her.

  The sun’s coming up from behind her, backlighting her like the angel that she is.

  She’s carrying that same map and what looks to be a bag of fruit she must have picked up from one of the many local fruit vendors.

  My throat goes dry and my hand grips the part of the yacht I’m holding on even tighter.

  I feel my hands sweating, shaking even as my body squares up to her from a distance.

  I watch as her lips part slightly and she strokes her arm. Her cheeks redden and her throat moves as she swallows hard before her tongue darts out to lick her lips.

  Her shoulders go back and she sticks her chest out slightly, although from here it looks like she’s holding her breath.

  How do I know? Because I’m doing the same.

  “Earth to Francisco,” Frank says. “This is little Fiona that you haven’t seen in a decade. Can you believe that she’s all grown up now?”

  “No,” I say. “No I can’t.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Fiona

  “Want to go for a ride on my yacht?” a voice from beside me asks, as my eyes stay locked in on Francisco.

  Oh my god, Francisco, my dad’s best friend, is my hero from the street.

  Francisco’s eyes move from mine to whoever is standing next to me and I watch a literal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde transformation happen in front of my very eyes.

  His nostrils flare while his forearms shake.

  His arms come off whatever he’s holding to support the tumble he almost just took and his hands clench into fists as he steps out of his yacht and onto the cruise harbor.

  With lips pulled back and teeth bared he moves quickly towards me, his muscles and veins straining against his skin.

  A guttural roar echoes from somewhere deep within his throat or belly and hits me right in the chest.

  His steps are swift and his legs are wide as he beelines toward the man next to me.

  Just as he arrives I turn and see him jab his finger right in-between the man’s eyes, pushing him back.

  “She’s mine. Beat it,” he says, and the man scurries away.

  He looks down at me and his expression immediately softens, and then a different kind of intensity overtakes him.

  Even with the smell of the ocean breeze I can make out his masculine scent that smells like fresh leather.

  His stare is unbreaking and his body stills, while his pupils dilate to eyes that smolder with intensity.

  I angle my body towards him, my arm accidentally brushing against his causing his eyes to widen slightly.

  It’s like nothing else around me matters and I want to tell him that right now, but there’s no way.

  First and foremost because my dad is only about forty feet away and second because my mouth feels frozen, and my tongue heavy. I couldn’t speak if I wanted to.

  I feel a fluttering in my stomach and this time my knees feel weak.

  My mind feels alert, my body energized as an almost electric feeling passes through me.

  I feel hot, burning up, like I need to take off my jacket if I had on one, but my body is stiff and unmoving.

  God, how much I want him to touch me, or me to touch him, or even if I could just say something witty or charming, but no.

  My thoughts race to how I was on top of him earlier, when he saved my life, and how much I wish he was on top of me now, claiming me, showing me that those big, thick fingers aren’t the only oversized appendages in his arsenal.

  I’ve been so focused on graduating with the highest GPA, that I haven’t had time to even think about boys…but this isn’t a boy.

  He’s a man. All man.

  All six foot five inches of his chiseled, muscular frame. From his masculine legs to his barrel chest to his squared up shoulders and his square jaw, everything about him screams alpha.

  “Um…are we gonna push off today?” my dad asks.

  Francisco turns to look at him, and from his profile I can see he shoots him a hard glare.

  “We’ll push off when…” he begins with a rough, lacerating tone. Then he blinks and it’s as if he’s back in the present. “Whenever you’re ready, buddy,” he says, the anger removed from his speech.

  Now there’s something I have to remove too…my panties because they are completely drenched.

  CHAPTER 4

  Francisco

  An hour later we’re on our way to Azores and I put our modest yacht on autopilot and join Frank on the deck.

  Before long we’re reminiscing about old times, talking about everything we used to do. He’s asking me all kinds of questions about what I’ve been up to, how things are these days and life in general.

  But there’s one question I want to ask him…where in the hell is Fiona?

  Apparently she’s below deck and I can only wonder what she’s doing under there, but out of nowhere she answers that question for me when she ascends the stairs in her Ferrari red swimsuit.

  “Hey, we thought you fell overboard,” Frank says, taking his eyes off me for a second to acknowledge his daughter’s presence…which gives me time to ogle her perfect curves.

  Her full breasts and hips and an ass like an apple that I want nothing more than to take a bite out of.

  One hand rubs the back of my neck while the other starts tapping my fingers in a cascading motion from my small finger to my index.

  I just shake my head at the sight of her, knowing all the things I want to do to that body…all the ways I want to claim her.

  My eyes squint, and it’s not from the sun, as I narrow my focus in on her nipples which are now beading through the fabric of her swimsuit.

  Why is she doing this to me?

  I feel a headache coming on and it’s not from seasickness. I’m used to being on the water and we’re in a yacht, not a sailboat. This is child’s play for me.

  Calm down, Francisco. Calm down.

  The boner in my pants isn’t buying it though, and is standing at attention so high and so hard that if we were sailing you could hang a canvas sail from it.

  “Man, that flight really wore me out, and the sun’s not making it any easier,” Frank says. “Think I’m gonna go below deck and crash for an hour or two and catch you two in time for dinner.”

  I swallow hard. “Good plan,” I say quickly.

  Frank turns his head back around and my eyes dart from Fiona’s chest to meet his just in the nick of time.

  Frank blinks rapidly a few times and I’m not sure if it’s because the reflection of the sun off the water is too intense, or he thought he saw me checking out his daughter.

  He’d be right in either case.

  “Catch you two later,” he says, taking the ladder below deck.

  I’m tempted to close the hatch, just in case, but that would be way too suspicious.

  I feel like I’m back in high school and the teacher stepped out of class giving the students free rein, but to do what exactly?

  Fiona is Frank’s daughter. That is very clear right now, but when she sits down next to me so close we’re almost touching, and then takes a quick look at my groin, my need for her is also very clear.

  Part of me tries not to look at her, as I shift my body away at a slight angle and avert making eye contact knowing her lusty look might be too much for this man to resist.

  Damn. I’m known for being calm under pressure, especially out on the water, but right now I feel my sea legs wobbling as I swallow hard, and t
hen swallow again.

  My shoulders draw up and my elbows tuck into my sides and I don’t say a word.

  “Comfortable?” she asks.

  “Why are you wearing a swimsuit like that out here on the deck?” I ask, my mood suddenly changing from the guilt I feel for looking at my best friend’s daughter to annoyance and the promise that if she pushes this she’s going to get exactly what she came looking for.

  That’s what we both want after all.

  “Why are you walking around in boardshorts and no shirt, your muscles flexing as you turn the wheel, maneuvering a big sexy phallic yacht out in the ocean? You didn’t think that was going to have an effect on me like this swimsuit has on you?”

  Damn. She’s sassy as hell and right.

  Her statement sounds somewhat between a chess move and an offer, which I should be reluctant to respond to, especially with her dad underneath the deck.

  “You know we’re on this boat for two weeks,” I say.

  “I know,” she says. “But what I don’t know is who’s going to break first.”

  My cock jerks and I swear I can feel precome on the tip of my dick.

  I try and adjust my position, but nothing feels comfortable.

  My mouth goes dry, and I feel jumpy. My nerves and muscles are twitchy as my senses become heightened. I smell the semi-sweet aroma of her skin and it’s like nectar to my nose, drawing me in like a bee to its queen.

  My queen.

  I feel like I’m addicted to her, like I have no power to resist, not that I’d even want to.

  I watch as she changes her seating position, mirroring mine. Her legs open and I can see her crease.

  My teeth clench, and her head leans away slightly, exposing her neck to me.

  “Are you…seeing anyone?”

  “Oh I’m seeing someone right now,” I say. “Right now,” I say running my eyes up and down her body as she watches me.

  “And how serious is it,” she says, as she bites down on her lower lip.

  “It’s real serious. There’s definitely a future there…a looooong future,” I say spreading my legs so she can clearly see just how long I’m talking about.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” she says. “You know…I was really putting in a lot of though about going to college in Europe. First I liked Switzerland and even got a Skype number for the country because I was making so many calls to the universities…until I found the School of Letters at the University of Lisbon and quickly realized it checked a lot of boxes on my checklist. I’ve been thinking hard about enrolling in the Faculdade de Letras. I love to read and from what I’ve seen online the city is beautiful.”

  “The city’s not the most beautiful thing in Portugal as of today,” I say, letting her know exactly what I think about her causing her to blush.

  “So I might just be in town for awhile, a looooong while.”

  She’s a wizard with words, turning mine around and giving it right back to me. No wonder she’s interested in studying literature and philosophy at our Faculdade de Letras.

  It’s hard to believe she speaks so well and carries herself so maturely, especially in this day and age. I thought eighteen-year-olds were practically kids, just addicted to their mobile phones, but obviously not her.

  I can see how young she looks though, which makes me think she might be an old soul, at least for her age. Considering I’m the fittest thirty-eight-year-old I know and I never seem to tire out, and I know I wouldn’t with her, we sound like the perfect match in more ways than one.

  She leans her head back, closes her eyes, and then moves it in a circle…that long blonde hair hanging all the way to the deck.

  I picture my hand knifing into it and giving it a tug as I slap her ass from behind while I enter deep into her channel.

  Her head stops rotating right when it squares up with me and the way the light reflects off the water I can’t tell what’s more blue, the depths of the Atlantic or her crystal clear eyes.

  She doesn’t have a speck of makeup on, and as the yacht makes good time a few droplets of water find her skin, giving her that fresh out of the shower look, as the sun bronzes her and gives her that healthy glow.

  I can’t keep my eyes from moving across her features over and over again. I’m not staring, but I’m one hundred percent lingering like a fiend.

  Then the age difference hits me again. “What about you? Got anyone back home,” I growl as I purse my lips and my muscles tighten again as I do a poor job of hiding my jealousy of just the thought of someone else thinking they have a chance with my woman.

  “I’ve been too focused on keeping my grades up and reading books to prepare for my degree to even think of having a boyfriend. Little did I think of what it would be like to have a real man, especially a man who’s good with his hands. A man who could steer a ship with those hands, and probably steer a lot of things…especially considering his skill and track record of conquering the motion of the ocean.”

  She’s playing with fire now. I can’t take much more.

  “Maybe you can show me how you guide your ship,” she says.

  I stand and hold my hand out to her. She places her tiny hand in mine and I feel the electricity jump from her skin to mine for the second time today when she stands I easily lift her up and off the deck. She’s so small and light, and I know without a doubt there are many ways I can use my strength to please her that would blow her mind…and mine.

  And it’s time to do exactly that.

  CHAPTER 5

  Fiona

  I gasp at the speed and ease with which he scoops me up, and from what the look in his eyes tells me he has in store.

  He kicks open the door to the wheelhouse then sets me down on an angled piece of dark wood just next to the control panel and before I could even say a word his lips were on mine.

  He tasted like summer and from the way his kisses quickly trailed down my neck it was apparent he was going to taste another part of me.

  His hands move down my side, grabbing me firmly, holding me in place as his mouth moved right over the top of my suit causing my back to arch and my hips to thrust forward.

  My hands search for something to grab a hold of, not wanting to touch anything that controls the direction of the boat, so I put my hands on his head and control the direction of his deep dive towards my pussy instead.

  His finger hooks in my swimsuit, moving it to the side as his mouth finds my center. I feel the vibrations of his growl throughout my groin as he tastes me.

  My hands move quickly through his hair, back and forth, pressing his head deeper into my cunt with each pass.

  My eyes close as he takes my bud in his mouth, rolling it gently and I moan out for him as my mind clears, feeling like I’m floating peacefully at sea in a dream.

  The reality of where I’m at comes racing back as his tongue dives deep and his throat rumbles so loud it drowns out the sound of the boat’s engine.

  “You taste so good, so sweet,” he says.

  I feel my cheeks heat as he buries his nose in my groin and inhales deep.

  “And your pussy is mine.”

  He brings one hand up to my cunt and presses a flat palm right there, applying pressure in just the right spot, as his other hand reaches up and finds one of my breasts, kneading it through the fabric.

  His hand down below moves up slightly as two fingers apply pressure right at my opening, but don’t enter.

  “You ready for me from the inside?”

  “Uh huh,” I whimper

  “You’re so hot, so musky,” he says taking another big inhale of me. “And so silky soft. Your perfectly shaven pussy lets me see everything, and if you could see how hard it makes me it would scare the hell out of you.”

  Slowly I feel one finger enter me.

  “Damn, you’re tight. You’ve been saving this just for me haven’t you?”

  I nod.

  “Haven’t you?” he asks again demanding an answer.

  “Yes,�
�� I say, but it barely comes out.

  “So pink, so pretty, so fucking mine,” he says.

  He repositions his body, moving back in as his shoulders find the inside of my knees, spreading my legs open wider.

  With a finger inside me he licks my labia and I cry out in pleasure.