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Claiming His Forever: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

Page 5

by Flora Ferrari


  “I want to send you some clothes for our date,” I tell her. “So I need to know your size.”

  “Oh,” she says. “A date? That sounds nice.”

  “So … your size. You shoe size and your bra size, too.”

  She lets out a breathy moan, and then she tells me all three. I nod, memorizing it, and then head for the door.

  If I stay here a moment longer, I won’t be able to hold myself back.

  I’ll fall upon her like a savage and bend her over the back of the couch, crushing my cock into her cream-wet pussy. I have to leave before I lose control.

  A man in my position should never lose control.

  “See you soon, Kimberly, and remember—”

  “I’m yours,” she says, her smile quirking a little.

  I smirk, and then I grip the door handle and wrench it open.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kimberly

  “Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” Jackie says, returning to the living room with a giant cardboard box cradled in her arms.

  All day – doing the dishes, tidying the apartment, reading on my Kindle – I’ve been struggling to believe that the closeness with Kristian really happened.

  As the minutes turned to hours, and as the hours wore on, it seemed far more likely that I was suffering some kind of hallucination.

  I’ve relived it countless times since, my body shivering in that aftermath of the orgasm, my lips getting tingly and sensitive.

  Now I look over the top of the Kindle to the cardboard box. It has my name on it.

  Is it from him?

  “I mean,” Jackie goes on, “you normally mention if you’ve ordered something online.”

  She drops onto the couch with a wry smile. The art viewing went well, which flooded me with relief when she told me. They don’t always go well. She’s changed into her apartment gear now, a big baggy hoodie and pajama bottoms that make her look thinner than she already is.

  My chest throbs at the thought.

  I thought I was going to burst into tears when Kristian asked me my clothing size.

  But he wasn’t mocking me.

  Was he?

  Maybe this is all some twisted, cruel trick.

  “Earth to Kimmy?” Jackie laughs, absentmindedly moving her hand over Tinkerbell when she climbs into her lap. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I murmur, laying my Kindle aside.

  “What is it?” Jackie asks. “You still haven’t said.”

  “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Maybe it’s some solid gold bricks, huh, like we used to joke about when I was little?”

  That was one of the ways we kept each other going—joking that one day some kind stranger would deliver a bunch of gold to us.

  “Nah, it’s too light,” Jackie giggles. “You are acting very mysterious, though. You have been since I got back.”

  I shrug as I walk over to the box, trying to make myself seem nonchalant.

  “Maybe I’m just tired.”

  Or maybe I found a secret cache of drugs and then a rich silver-haired giant handsome man came and gave me the first real orgasm of my life.

  I grab the edges of the cardboard box and tear it upward, breaking the thin tape that seals it. It has a hand-delivered look about it, packaged in such a way that makes me think the sender wasn’t worried about transit.

  I open it up and stare down.

  My pulse pounds in my neck.

  Maybe he really is mocking me.

  “Well?” Jackie says. “Care to share with the class?”

  “I …”

  I lick my too-dry lips.

  I reach down and tenderly lift out the dress. It’s short and sunrise purple.

  No, it’s more violet than purple, with subtle jewels inlaid on the hem. The top is cut low enough that I know it’d show a generous slice of my breasts.

  It’s the sort of dress I’d never dream of wearing in a million years.

  Sitting in the box are a pair of glistening Cinderella heels, shining with silver jewels, and lying just next to them is a set of silky violet lingerie, frilly and suggestive.

  It’s all stuff I’d never have the confidence to wear, even if part of me – a big part – wishes I did.

  “Whoah,” Jackie says.

  I flinch when I realize how close she is. She’s risen from her chair and she’s standing next to me, looking into the box.

  She turns to me with her eyebrows quirked in the same way I’ve seen her do a hundred times.

  “So, are you going to tell me why a mystery man is sending my little sister lingerie? Or mystery woman … no judgment here.”

  I softly place the dress back into the box, taking a few steps back as though by gaining distance from it some of this will start to make sense.

  “It’s a man,” I murmur.

  “I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

  I laugh drily.

  “No, I’m not. Well, I guess I am. We met today.”

  Jackie wheels on me, so fast that Tinkerbell lets out a yapping noise.

  “Today?” she gasps. “Now I’m really interested. Did you meet him at the open house?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Kimmy, can you please explain what’s going on? This is hella confusing.”

  I drop back into my seat and then stand back up when I realized I’ve just sat on my Kindle. I place it on the armrest and drop back down.

  “I don’t know how to even start explaining it,” I murmur.

  I’m not even sure I have the words to outline what happened between Kristian and me. All I know for sure is that when I think about him, my body floods with heat.

  My soul flutters and my mind drifts to starlight-painted places.

  I see myself on his arm, wearing the violet dress. But in my mind I don’t look too curvy or like I’m trying too hard. I don’t look pathetic.

  I look …

  I flounder, my mind drawing a blank.

  And then it hits me.

  In my vision, I look like the sort of woman Kristian Cameno would be proud of to have on his arm.

  Is it possible that he truly thinks I’m beautiful enough to wear that dress, those heels, that lingerie?

  “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Jackie says, walking over and sitting on the arm of the chair.

  She reaches down and gives my shoulder a squeeze.

  “It’s okay, sis,” she says. “I’ve got all night. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I take a deep breath and then I start at the beginning.

  I tell her about Alexis calling and going to the open house – which she already knows about– but this time I add in finding the drugs. I tell her how Kristian came to visit me.

  I tell her how we kissed, and what he said.

  I belong to him now.

  I tell her how happy that made me.

  I leave out the orgasm. She doesn’t need that much detail.

  “But I think it must be some sort of twisted trick,” I murmur.

  Jackie smooths her hand over my shoulder. It’s the same gesture she’s done a hundred times before when the ups and downs of high school and then grownup life battered me down.

  It’s a gesture that says, Don’t worry. Your big sister’s here. Everything’s going to be okay.

  “You must really like this guy,” she murmurs.

  I glance at her. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”

  “What did you think I was going to say?”

  “Well—that I should’ve contacted the police when I found the drugs. Or that I’m crazy for not running a mile when he said I belonged to him.”

  Jackie smiles wryly. “Maybe all of that’s true, but I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. All I know is that you like him. Your first instinct was to assume this was a trick. Why, Kimberly? Why did you immediately go there?”

  I bite my lip, remembering the way he glared at me as he brought his come-sli
ck finger to my lips. I was so freaking horny then, my body alight with a thousand different wants and needs.

  And yet I was also certain he was going to laugh at me the moment I did it.

  “You sick bitch,” I imagined him saying. “I can’t believe you actually did that.”

  “Because I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” I rage. “I’ve never even had anything close to a boyfriend. Nobody’s ever shown any interest in me. Let’s face it, Jacks. I’m just not the sort of girl men fall for.”

  “Well, this man clearly has,” she says fiercely. “You know how much I hate it when you talk like that when you put yourself down. I freaking despise it.”

  “I know,” I sigh. “It’s just so hard sometimes. Especially when it happens to be true.”

  “I don’t think it’s true at all,” she says. “And clearly neither does this Kristian Cameno. You told me he said he wasn’t a drug dealer. You told me he got offended when you called him that.”

  “Yeah, he did,” I sigh. “But maybe he was lying?”

  “You don’t think he was lying,” she says, narrowing her eyes, reading me like she always can.

  It reminds me of Kristian, the way he can read me.

  It reminds me of the way he narrowed his eyes at me and gazed right into my soul.

  The difference is it makes sense with Jackie. She’s my sister.

  Kristian is a stranger.

  But it doesn’t feel that way.

  “What happens if I put on the dress and everything, and then it turns out to be a trick? Maybe he wants to humiliate me because he still thinks I took some of the drugs or something. He’s clearly a criminal of some sort, if not a drug dealer. Or, at the very least, he’s involved in that world. Shouldn’t that scare me, Jacks? Shouldn’t that make me want to run?”

  “Oh, Kimmy,” Jackie murmurs, giving my shoulder another squeeze. “I can’t answer that question for you. You’re not a kid anymore. You have to make that decision yourself. But whatever you decide, I’ll support you. And if something bad does happen, you know I’ll be here to put you back together again.”

  I giggle, reach up and place my hand atop hers.

  It was one of the ways she used to soothe me as a kid.

  Don’t worry, little baby. I’ll put you back together again just like Humpty Dumpty.

  I sigh and glance at the box, wondering if I’ll have the courage to wear it when the time comes.

  I almost leap from the chair when my cellphone blares from the coffee table.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kristian

  I sit in my office, idly toying with the golden letter opener.

  The day has been busy.

  I’ve gathered up all of Maury’s product and ordered it incinerated in a morgue far outside the city, where the fumes won’t be noticed or bother anybody. I’ve checked in with the men guarding Maury, discovering that he’s going through some white-knuckle withdrawals.

  Then it was some late-afternoon tea with Mother, which I refuse to miss no matter how busy my life gets.

  Carmela Cameno smiled over the top of her elegant chinaware the moment I sat down. No matter how old or grizzled or gruff I become, my mother can always see past all that to the boy I was.

  She was decked out in pearls and she’d recently been to the salon. A designer watch glinted at her wrist. When she smiled, it was with shiny white teeth, the result of a recent surgery.

  “Why do you look so motivated?” she’d said, in her characteristically incisive way.

  “What’s wrong with being motivated, Ma?” I’d chuckled.

  She looked at me a moment longer and then smiled even wider.

  “Oh, my,” she said. “It’s a girl, isn’t it, Kris? You’ve found a girl.”

  I bowed my head, but I couldn’t hide the smirk that played at my lips.

  “Maybe,” I told her. “But it’s early days yet. Don’t get too excited.”

  I try to remind myself of that as the phone continues to ring. I’m sitting in my office again. The street is quieter now as the city winds down for the night, but sirens and car horns still sound in the air every so often.

  Finally, she answers, her voice all breathy.

  My cock stiffens immediately.

  “Hello?” she says.

  “Kimberly,” I snarl. “Did you get the dress?”

  “Yes,” she murmurs, voice all shaky.

  She’s driving me insane.

  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “How did you get my number?” she asks a moment later.

  “I have my ways,” I tell her. “More importantly, you need to tell me what you’re doing this evening.”

  “Well, I need to take a trip down to Goodwill,” she says.

  I smirk at the sass in her voice. I know where this is going, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to stop her now.

  I want my woman to be funny as well as sexy, witty as well as beautiful.

  Kimberly is the whole package.

  “Oh yeah?” I chuckle.

  “Yeah, I’ve got this lovely dress to donate,” she says. “It’s a beautiful piece. I think they’ll really be grateful.”

  “If you’re willing to take your punishment, you go ahead and do that,” I growl.

  I can scent her tangy pussy through the phone. It should be impossible, and yet I’m sure I can, her lust rising and dancing in the air. The base of my manhood gives a throb that courses through my body, making my muscles tighten.

  “My … what?” she murmurs.

  “Your punishment,” I growl. “I’ll spank you until you’re red-raw if you even think about giving that dress away. You need to wear it. You need to wear everything I sent you. Tonight.”

  She makes a whimpering noise that almost drives me feral. I stab the letter opener into the desk. The oak surface is marked from where I’ve stabbed it before, but that was never in carnal desire. That was in rage, business-fueled fury.

  This is something else entirely.

  “Tonight?” she says. “What if I’m busy, huh?”

  “Clear your schedule,” I tell her. “I’ll send a car to pick you up in an hour.”

  There’s a pause, and I wonder if she’s going to tell me no. If she does, I might have to go there myself and take her by those round, gorgeous hips again. I’ll drag her into her bedroom and block the door with her drawers, barricade it shut, locking us in together.

  And then I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to that curvy perfect body of hers.

  I swear I can still feel her enflamed pussy against my hand, the engorged needy nub of her clit.

  The end of my rock hard manhood twinges in desire.

  My seed roars.

  “An hour,” she murmurs. “Okay, Kristian. That sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

  “Good girl,” I growl, hanging up the phone.

  I close my eyes and I see her as she was earlier today, backed up against the wall with my forearm laid across her chest. I see the way her eyelids fluttered as the orgasm shattered through her.

  I work my hand down to my pants, holding it near my manhood, my forearm tense with the need to grab onto my throbbing dick.

  But no.

  I place my hand on the desk, gripping its edge so hard it trembles and knocks against the floor.

  I won’t waste a single drop of my seed unless it’s in – or on – my woman.

  I glance at the clock in the corner, an old antique, ticking loudly.

  Why the fuck did I give her an hour?

  I can hardly wait a minute.

  I stand at the floor to ceiling window, my hands behind my back, looking down at the night time city. I feel like it’s master when I’m so high up. The restaurant is the most opulent in the city, a private club you can only attend by invitation.

  I’ve had it cleared out for the evening so I can enjoy Kimberly all to myself.

  I don’t want other men laying their eyes on her when she’s in that mind-fucking dress.

&nb
sp; A light rain falls on the thousand lights of the city, yellow and white glittering from countless different places. This winter has been harsh and icy-cold, but there’s a hint of spring in the air now, in the way the sky tinges sea-blue as the moon shines down.

  New beginnings, and there’s no better person to take this journey with than Kimberly.

  Tension thrums through me when I hear the private elevator open behind me, the mechanism whirring almost silently. But a man in my position has to be alert to every sound, the same way a lion stalking the jungle does.

  A predator never rests.

  I turn and my balls damn-near explode.

  Kimberly’s heels click on the hardwood floor as she walks across the vast cavernous room. The chandelier light bounces off the jewels on her dress.

  I stare at her bare thighs, full and round, and then at the cleavage on display just under her ducked chin. Her golden hair cascades down around her shoulders, a little messily, making me want to mess it up ever more.

  She wears no makeup and no jewelry. She looks like a fresh virgin prize, especially when she stops just short of me and I see how nervous-red her cheeks are.

  “What do you think?” she murmurs.

  I stalk over to her, stopping when I’m within touching distance. From this angle, and gaze down at the massive glorious mounds of her breasts.

  They’re going to be perfect for tit-fucking and covering in my come, and so perfect for when our children come along and it’s time to feed them. My body aches at the thought of those pert nipples swelling with milk.

  “I think,” I growl, “that if I don’t feel those legs of yours again, I’m going to die.”

  She whimpers when I surge forward, closing the distance between us. I reach down and grip greedy handfuls of her fleshy thighs, so glad that there’s so much of her to grab, to explore, to indulge in.

  Every part of her was made for my pleasure.

  I don’t plan on wasting any opportunity of enjoying her body.

  I crash my lips into hers, tasting her toothpaste, tasting her.

  Her womb sending me signals, willing me to forgo dinner and just savage her right here like the horny girl she is.

  She whines and shifts against me, making me even harder than I already was.

  I force myself to break the contact and step away from her. I can feel the uncertain shimmers moving through her body. Questions are probably firing in her mind, wondering if I’m going to try and savage her right here, wondering how she’s going to tell me she’s not ready yet.

 

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