Lost And Found: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  His ‘n Hers removal Co. on the side of their truck. They might be husband and wife, I tell myself.

  Cute.

  “I left a note,” Rachel says to herself, hopping out of the car and going over to them while I scan the yard and street for my buddy.

  I get out and try to avoid looking at the house itself. Its arched windows like eyes, half asleep with one halfway up and the other all the way down.

  I almost expect to see Rachel’s dad coming out too, but I can overhear her talking to the movers.

  “I’m Rachel. Sorry, I left a note for you… my dad’s sleeping.”

  The His of the His ‘n Hers team isn’t as polite as his wife. “Yeah, well the damned door’s locked so a fat lot of good a note telling us to get started without you is, huh?” he snaps.

  That’s my cue to move over to Rachel. Valentine to the edge of my mind for just one moment.

  I can see Rachel’s nerves unraveling and once I’m close enough, I can feel it radiating from her. She’s more worried about her dad coming out and finding me here than she is about dealing with a grouchy moving guy.

  But hearing anyone even raise their voice at her, even a little is enough to have me put myself between him and her.

  “Problem?” I hear myself ask him hoarsely, popping my neck without even meaning to.

  He’s a big guy, but I’m bigger. And apart from that, I have more interest in finding my dog and getting out of here than dealing with his attitude.

  “No problem,” he says, gulping a little and taking a step back. “We just couldn’t get in to do our job is all.”

  I nod slowly, and Rachel hurries to open the front door.

  She apologizes again, and practically drags me back to the car after giving them instructions on what to pack before the big move tomorrow.

  “Please don’t, Conor. Can we just go before my dad wakes up?” she pleads.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Rachel

  It’s an anxious few moments, and I’m not sure which is worse; Conor about to break the removal guy for snapping at me or the thought of my dad coming out and finding Conor here.

  I somehow manage to get Conor back in the car, convinced Valentine isn’t here or he would’ve come to him straight away.

  I watch the couple head inside and crane my neck as Conor reaches the end of our street to turn, I’m sure I see my dad coming out of the house.

  But there’s nothing I can do now, I’ve made my choice and I’m sticking with it, I’m staying with Conor no matter what.

  If he’ll still have me.

  Oh no, you don’t. Don’t start thinking like that again. He’ll have you alright, and in more ways than one, I tell myself.

  Reminding myself he didn’t just come out in the snow to look for Valentine either, I know he wanted to come and get me just as much as I wanted to go back with him.

  It’s gonna hurt my dad, a lot. But I can’t deny my feelings anymore. It might be tough going for a while, but I don’t think I would have made it through today let alone this week if I’d tried to deny it a second longer.

  Conor can sense my mood and once we’re clear of my street he slows down and we both strain to look for Valentine in the thickening snow as he drives.

  We take the same route and every other I can think of at least a dozen times before the snow starts to get heavier.

  “It never snows like this in February,” I murmur, voicing the growing hopelessness I know must be weighing on Conor.

  “We should head home, I guess. If he’s not there by now I’ll start calling some animal shelters, let them know he’s missing in case he’s found.

  I nod in agreement but I can see his heart’s not in the idea. The thought of his best friend not coming home on his own is too much for him to bear and I feel my own emotions start to take me over.

  “We’ll find him, I know we will,” I finally say softly, trying to say something, anything to comfort Conor.

  Conor stays silent right up until we reach his house again.

  I look around once we pull up, waiting for the gate and garage to open.

  “He’s not here,” he says with a heavy sigh, “I can feel it.”

  “I’m here,” I tell him, waiting until he’s parked the car and the door rolls shut behind us, blocking out the cold as well as the life I know I’ve left behind somehow.

  “I know you are,” Conor says tenderly, taking my hand and kissing it. “Let’s go inside and warm up a little, I have some calls to make.”

  It’s only been a few hours, and the house looks exactly the same, but even I can feel the emptiness without Valentine in it.

  “He’s all I’ve had for four years, the only company I mean,” Conor remarks, hanging his keys on a rack by the garage door in the kitchen as we step inside.

  He glances outback, but I feel my heart sink lower when he doesn’t even open the door to go look outside.

  We both know that if Valentine was anywhere near here, he’d be letting his master know.

  “I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” Conor says, hooking his huge arms around my waist and pulling me closer.

  He feels so warm, so good. His hard body under his clothes making my hands wander without me even willing them to.

  “Let’s get to work,” I remind us both, knowing if we don’t stay focused we’ll lose more than Valentine. We’ll lose precious time in trying to find him if we yield to our instincts.

  “You’re right,” Conor says, frowning, “But once we’ve made some progress… I plan to do what I should’ve done the minute I laid eyes on you, Rachel Beckett,” he cautions me, grinning for a brief moment before slipping into what I guess is his professional mode.

  The mindset he needs to get things done without letting his emotions get the better of him.

  “There’s another laptop in my office and a phone with multiple lines out. We can split up and start calling local vets, shelters, anyone and anywhere we can start to contact. Let them know he’s missing.”

  I nod with encouragement, Conor makes everything sound like it’s already a success before it’s even happened.

  And I have to admit, I am still kind of distracted by his earlier remark about what he has planned for me, sorry Valentine, but you’re not the only one who’s crazy about the man.

  In what feels like my first real meaningful thing with Conor, outside of what went on in my pants, we both set to work and in no time at all, we have a system going.

  We search online, and then call up one location each, trying to find Valentine for one but also giving his description in case he does turn up.

  “He’s microchipped, sure,” I hear Conor repeat to someone for the twentieth time, just like I’ve been doing.

  “… Because I’m doing what anyone would do, I’m calling to see if you have my dog or if anyone’s found him,” he adds with a growing frustration I don’t think either of us can hide anymore.

  Admittedly, trying to phone around vets, shelters, and the city’s animal control for help, asking about a dog that’s been missing for less than a few hours isn’t getting anywhere that’s friendly or even sympathetic.

  After what feels like hours and the end of our local list search, we both slide back in our seats exhausted.

  “I’m sorry, Conor,” I tell him and I mean it. I really hoped we would have gotten somewhere after all that.

  He creases a smile and glancing out the window at the weather he shrugs.

  “I won’t give up on him, Rachel. I know he’s up to something if he’s gone for this long and hasn’t come home.”

  I could make a joke about Valentine being out, rounding up another girl for Conor. But that’s not funny. Not to me and definitely not for Conor.

  “He’s built for this weather, so I’m telling myself all we can do is sit and wait. If we hear something, we’ll hear it soon enough,” Conor reasons aloud, standing up and starting to pace.

  All the tell-tale signs of a man who is about as far from a
ccepting the situation as it is as you could get.

  Don’t blame him though.

  I feel awful too, wish there was more I could do for him right now.

  “C’mere,” he says, cocking his brow and broadcasting the idea into my mind. Something I know could help both of us right now.

  I feel myself gasp like he’s pulling the breath right out of me without even touching me. Those dark eyes saying it all with one look.

  What he wants to do to me, just like he promised.

  Like iron filings to a strong magnet, I’m drawn to him. Helpless once I’m in his arms again.

  Before he kisses me, he dispels any doubts I might have lurking. Evaporating the guilt I feel about what I want when we should be worrying about Valentine.

  “I love you, Rachel. I should never have let you go in the first place, but I can’t keep you unless you want to be here,” he says in a deep, sultry voice that makes my knees feel like they’ll giving out.

  “I want you to stay here, with me now. Mine. The two of us. You won’t have to worry about or want for anything, I promise,” he adds, and I feel my head nodding as I look up at him, my hands pressed flat against his muscular chest as I feel it flex when he pulls me closer.

  His other hardness pressing right into my belly through my sweater, making both of us moan softly.

  I still have so much I want to ask, things of my own I want to tell him. But he only has one question for me as I feel my heart starting to pound against my ribs in the best possible way.

  “Tell me you want this,” he says as he guides my hand to his front. The thick, hard line of his cock making my hand feel tiny by comparison.

  “Tell me you’ll be mine and you want to give yourself to me now. Say it,” he demands softly and I hear myself whimpering as a thick line of moist flashes across my pussy, aching for him to be inside me.

  “I’m yours, Conor,” I gasp, fumbling with his zipper and button, itching to free his huge cock so I can see it again. Feel its heat in my hands.

  “I want you to take me, make me a woman,” I tell him. “Fill me with this, and everything inside it,” I plead, hearing the need in my voice.

  His large hands grip my shoulders for a second, and he kisses me so gently, so tenderly that I almost forget how to even breathe or move.

  With a look of total satisfaction, he slowly starts to undress me as I focus on his touch and trying to keep upright.

  My legs feel like overcooked spaghetti, but once his hands start to ease my jeans down, I feel them under his thick palms.

  He squeezes me as he helps me step out of my boots and jeans, running a palm straight up the inside of one thigh and pressing hard against my sodden mound.

  I fall onto him, unable to stand it anymore.

  “Take me, Conor,” I whine. “I need your fat cock inside me.”

  He looks surprised for a split second, then more pleased than ever.

  I hear my own voice telling him exactly what I want, how hard and where. How much I need him to come inside me so I can come on his thick rod.

  Sounding somewhere far away, I think it’s someone else until I finally feel Conor’s naked chest against mine once we’ve struggled to get all our clothes off, I realize it’s me crying out.

  Pressing against each other, skin on skin and still not being close enough.

  “I need to be inside you, Rachel. Give you what you need,” he rasps, walking me backward while he kisses me again, into the sitting room opposite his office.

  There’s no way I can wait to even get upstairs, I need him here and now. And I know he wants me too.

  Falling back onto the couch, my legs are wide open for him, my hands even spreading my lips wider as he drops to his knees, his mouth on me, making me buck and curse.

  “Not that,” I beg him, not wanting to risk coming in his mouth again. I’m so close already.

  I need him inside me, I want to come on his cock so bad and I tell him so, a grunting, guttural plea from my lips as I scrunch his hair in both my hands.

  “Ugh… Fuck me Conor, give it to me,” I implore him, whimpering again as I feel my pussy starting to twitch, the heat from my wetness running freely.

  He kisses me hard as he positions himself over me, and I taste the iron richness of blood as I bite his lip, but that mixed with my own taste as he shares it with me only makes us both growl and groan harder.

  A thick thumb working my clit has me squirming under him, reaching out with both hands greedily, gripping his cock and teasing my hole with it until I know I’m done unless he’s inside me.

  “Take me Conor,” I gasp. “Fuck me, make me yours. ”

  Each word, each request from my mouth, plus the feeling of him in my most sensitive place, it’s like a lifetime’s worth of desire and passion unleashed.

  Conor’s freed me, opened me up. Now he has to claim what’s his.

  And I know he’s just the man for the job.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Conor

  I never thought I’d hear her talk like this.

  Never thought hearing anyone talk like this could make me so fucking hard.

  My cock feels ten feet long and so hard it’ll break, twitching in her hands as she lies back, her hole quivering as she begs me to fuck her.

  It’s so far from the candlelight and rose petals I’d planned in my mind. But there’s time for that.

  I need to claim her as my woman, the woman I’m about to make her.

  And by god, I’ll give her everything she’s asking for and more.

  Her eyes are starting to roll, her head is thrashing, and her hips are bucking against my thumb as it grinds her clit, like a bullet sliding under my touch as I circle it hard.

  Her hands guide me, and I shift my intense stare between her face and the sight of my swollen, plum sized head as it starts to push inside her tightness.

  Fuck she’s tight, and I tell her so, swearing over her own sounds as she lifts her ass higher, easing onto my thickness like a duck taking to water.

  I was worried I’d hurt her. She’s so small down there, but she’s so hot for my cock it feels like a key sliding into a lock.

  A perfect fit once I feel myself further inside, the urge to come suddenly more focused on her own pleasure as well as my own.

  There’s an extra degree of tightness, and I ask if she’s ok. Her hands claw at my chest, as she half laughs, half growls like an animal.

  I know she’s more than okay, and gripping her ass with one hand, I push all the way inside her, my swollen head meeting a new and instantly more intense level of pleasure deep inside her.

  Her mouth makes an O shape, and she struggles to get some air, and when she does she puts it to good use. Both of us grunting and puffing, almost in disbelief that anything could feel this good.

  That anything could be so powerful between two people.

  Her feet hook around my waist and I use both hands now to grab that fine ass of hers, squeezing it as hard as I like now that I know Rachel likes it a little rough as much as she likes it deep.

  For a first timer, she’s a natural, but I know it’s the chemistry. It’s us, finally sharing each other the best way we can, feeling each other like never before, and loving it.

  Loving her.

  Loving every inch of her as I feel my own thighs, hard from keeping me upright, flex against her softness as I pull her closer with each thrust until I’m deep inside her.

  Each movement is like a tiny climax for both of us, watching her thick chest bounce in time to our rhythm, her stiff pink nipples begging for my hands but settling for my mouth once I lean over and suck each one in turn.

  “Conor,” I hear her starting to gasp my name, a smile forming on my lips once I know just how close she is.

  Once I feel her tunnel start to twitch over my hardness.

  “Conor,” she says louder, warning me.

  As if anything can stop me.

  I move my lips up to her neck, biting her gently and whispering
in her ear as I angle my cock slightly higher, grinding her clit with each slow stroke as I work on her climax, determined to show her just how much pleasure she deserves.

  “I’ll be here,” I tell her. “I’ll be right here to join you when you come on my cock,” I whisper, feeling the pleasant ache in my balls, the tingling itch of my tip as it swells to double its size. My whole dick swelling as I feel her struggling to move harder against me.

  “Conor!” she cries, straining to even speak.

  And I feel it, we both feel it.

  Her body goes rigid, jerking and spasming as I feel my whole length slid deep inside her, a new place for us both.

  Her legs lock me in from behind, but like I promised, I’m not going anywhere.

  She relaxes and then her whole body stiffens again, the grip she has on my cock inside her starts to vibrate, rippling up and down my length, drawing the start of my own climax from me.

  I thought I’d known pleasure. I thought I knew what my own orgasm felt like, but this… this is something else.

  She’s whimpering, and I’m groaning, gasping as it keeps coming. The whole room, the whole house, and then the world seems to disappear.

  It’s just us, a single point of oneness.

  Just love. Bliss and love.

  I’m not a spiritual man, or rather, I didn’t think I was until just now.

  Something magical just happened, and it’s bigger than both of us.

  Gradually, we become aware of our bodies again, our own pleasure as it subsides in waves that still have us gasping and moaning, finally laughing as we collapse together.

  A perfect knot of man and woman on the huge couch as I stay inside her, holding her close and tell her again and again just how much I love her.

  Hearing her tell me the same back in my ear before she kisses it and then my mouth.

  “Oh God,” she gasps, pulling me closer when I think I’m crushing her with my weight.

  “No no, lay on me,” she says. “I want all of you on me, forever.”

  Once we can both breathe again, I tell her how it has to be from now on.