Claiming His Forever: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Read online

  Is that why he keeps looking down at my breasts?

  Or am I just imagining, wishing?

  “Your little speech made that very clear,” I go on. “So if you think you can read me so well—”

  “I can,” he snarls. “I can read your every want, Kimberly, just from the way those bright green eyes of yours glisten.”

  “Okay,” I whimper.

  My clit pulses.

  Surely this isn’t all in my head.

  What else could he possibly mean by these words, except that he wants me as badly as I want him?

  “Look at me and tell me if I’m lying,” I say, staring firmly up at him. “I did not take any drugs from that basement. Tinkerbell scratched away the partition. When I saw what she’d done, I was just glad she didn’t accidentally ingest any of that crap. That’s it. I swear, Kristian. I swear on my dead mother’s life.”

  I don’t know where that last bit comes from. Something about this man is drawing my emotions too close to the surface, my voice warbling and shimmering. I cough back a confused mess of emotions, a near-sob, and avert my gaze.

  I need to get myself under control.

  I flinch when he brings his hand up to my chin, but then I settle into the warmth of his touch, the certainty with which he guides my gaze back to him.

  “I believe you, Kimberly,” he says gruffly. “But I can’t fight this anymore.”

  “Fight what?” I murmur.

  “The urge to claim those fuckable lips of yours.”

  I gasp as this man – this stranger who inexplicably doesn’t feel like a stranger – leans down and presses his rough lips against mine.

  For long moments I don’t know what to do. He growls and shoves himself closer to me, working my lips apart with his tongue.

  Then I feel something within me take over, as though that needy humming force inside of me is rising up and taking control of my lips.

  I let out a muffled moan and raise my hands to his shoulders, gripping on and feeling his rock hard muscles through the fabric of his suit, so hard it’s like he could tear the fabric apart at any second.

  He snarls through the kiss, grabbing my hips and guiding me to the wall.

  Is this really happening?

  Part of me is certain that any second now I’m going to jolt awake on Jackie’s bed with Tinkerbell. Maybe I followed her in there and collapsed next to her, exhausted from all the work I’ve been doing lately.

  Maybe I’m rolling around and these moans and breathy sighs are really just fabrications of my unconscious mind.

  “Fuck,” Kristian snarls, breaking off the kiss for a moment.

  He squeezes onto my hips. I cringe, but I don’t want to spoil the moment and tell him to take his hands away.

  I don’t want him to take his hands away. I just wish I didn’t have to poison this moment by being self-conscious about my curviness.

  “You feel even better than I imagined,” he says, his breath painting me hotly.

  “You imagined touching me?” I moan, my skin shivering endlessly at his touch.

  “From the second I saw you leave the house,” he growls. “I was rock hard as I watched you, Kimberly. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to drag you back into that house and fuck you like you deserve to be fucked—hard, relentlessly, pounding your sweet wet pussy until you could barely take any more. But you will. You’ll take as much as I want you to.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” I whimper. “You just arrived ten minutes ago. Maybe less.”

  “Yes,” he says passionately, his lips so close to mine I’m sure I can still taste him. “But you can feel it just as much as I can. I can see it in your eyes. You want this. You fucking need this.”

  I wriggle against him, my nipples grazing against his suit jacket. I have to squeeze my thighs together to do something about the tension there, to address it in some way. It aches so freaking much.

  “We can’t do anything,” I say. “Not with Tinkerbell here.”

  He tilts his head at me, eyes narrowed.

  “No,” he says. “That’s not the reason.”

  I gasp when he crushes his lips against mine again. I reach up and grip the back of his neck, pulling myself against him, tasting him, sinking into him.

  This man entered my life a few minutes ago and he’s already given me more pleasure than I’ve ever experienced in my life.

  Fireworks blaze across my sex, a relentless succession of them, erupting and tingling and teasing. He groans as our tongues dance, the tips flaring together, sending more and more electricity coursing through me.

  Suddenly, he breaks the kiss off again, our noses tickling each other.

  I can’t help but giggle.

  “That feels funny,” I say.

  Immediately, I wish I could take the dorky comment back.

  But Kristian just smirks.

  “I can feel how badly you want this,” he growls. “I bet if I slid my hand up between those thick, juicy, gorgeous thighs of yours, I’d feel how slick and hot you are. I bet your cunt is already soaked for me. I can taste how badly your body needs my body. That’s what it is, Kimberly. It’s not about us. It’s about our bodies. We’re animals. We turn each other into beasts. I’m your predator and you’re my prey. You understand that, don’t you?”

  He glares at me, blues eyes flaming.

  “Yes, Kristian,” I moan. “I understand that. But …”

  His smirk widens. It’s like he wants me to tell him.

  “Say it,” he urges. “Oh, fuck, let it be true. Let me be right. Say it, Kimberly.”

  Am I awake? Or am I sleeping?

  “I’m a virgin, Kristian,” I say.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Kristian

  I thought it was impossible for any more tension to flood into my rock solid manhood, but when I hear the word virgin, I almost explode.

  I press myself against her curvy body, driving the helm of my engorged cock against her belly. Her hips feel so perfect in my hands, made for childbearing, for bringing my heirs into this world.

  And now I know with iron-clad certainty that she’ll be mine, and mine alone.

  If another man even dreams of touching her, I’ll snap his neck like a twig.

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she says into the silence, panic making her voice twisted and breathy.

  Does she have any idea what she does to me when she sounds like that, this woman who should be a stranger?

  But she isn’t. She isn’t even close.

  I felt like I was fused to her the moment I laid eyes on her.

  Her virginity only hammers that home.

  “We don’t know each other. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—I mean …”

  She trails off, tears rising in her eyes.

  “No, Kimberly,” I growl. “I’m not disappointed. I’m glad.”

  “What?” she moans.

  Fuck, that moan, the wide-eyed virgin naivety of her expression … Everything about her sends wave upon wave of possessive tension surging into the base of my cock, making me feel as though I’m already buried up to my hilt inside of her.

  I can’t wait to feel how tight she is, how untouched, how mine.

  “Do I feel like a stranger to you?” I ask.

  She swallows, her throat shifting.

  My hand twitches with the need to claim that throat, to hold it tenderly. I’d never hurt her, but I’d apply just enough pressure to let her know who she belongs to.

  “You should,” she finally whimpers.

  It’s like she doesn’t know the effect those breathy words are going to have on me. If she did – if she had any clue how much restraint it’s taking not to maul her like the beast I am right here – she might be a bit more careful with the noises she makes.

  “Fine,” I snarl. “Maybe I should. But do I?”

  She bites her lip and shakes her head slowly.

  “Speak, Kimberly,” I growl.

  “No,” she moans.


  It’s the same way she’ll moan when I drive my cock between those ample breasts of hers. I’ll flip her around for the best angle, driving my cock between the fleshy, intoxicating roundness of them. I’ll paint them in precome until she’s gasping and gagging for my cock to drive up into her virgin cunt.

  I ache with the need for it.

  “No,” I confirm. “That’s because we’re not strangers. That’s because you belong to me.”

  She gasps, so naïve, so pure, so fresh.

  So untouched.

  Savage possessiveness tears its way through me when I think of another man trying to claim that which is mine.

  No matter what she does, where she goes, what she becomes, she’ll always belong to me.

  “What do you mean?” she says.

  “I mean what I say,” I tell her firmly.

  I surge forward and grab her ass cheeks, squeezing her to let her feel the power of my grip. She sighs and writhes against me. It’s like she can’t help it, as though her desire is bubbling up inside of her as an impossible-to-ignore voice.

  I indulge in her ass cheeks, squeezing, pressing, feeling how full they are.

  They’re ass cheeks I could spend hours on alone, rubbing and pleasing until she’s shivering against me. I wonder if she’d be able to orgasm just from being spanked and rubbed in this way.

  “You belong to me,” I snarl, watching the way her features shiver in lust. “Everything you are, everything you’re ever going to be, it’s mine. The second I laid eyes on you, I knew it. I knew you were the one. You’re the woman I’ve been waiting my whole life for. I knew that the fucking moment you stepped out of that house. You are mine, Kimberly. I don’t care if we’ve just met. I don’t care if it’s too much for you to handle. You. Belong. To. Me.”

  I squeeze her ass cheeks even harder, my cock tensing and blazing and almost exploding at the sighing moan she makes.

  I push her up against the wall with the solid mass of my body.

  She looks up at me, all wide-eyed, her lips quivering.

  “Say it,” I tell her.

  “I’m yours,” she gasps, as though she’s confused, as though part of her thinks this is a dream.

  I glance at the bedroom door where the dog is sleeping, across the pitifully small apartment. A woman like this – my woman – deserves so much more. She deserves penthouse apartments and large estates and servants to cater to her every need. She deserves to be kept and supported so that she can follow her passions in life.

  “You don’t want to fuck with the dog in the apartment,” I say. “No—you don’t want to fuck because you’re a virgin, and you’re nervous, and you’re scared you won’t please me.”

  I’m still playing with her ass cheeks, pushing them together now, feeling the heat of her flesh through the fabric of her skirt. I slide my hands under the hem of her skirt and grab her tights instead.

  I’m so close to the blazing hotness of her flesh.

  I ache with the proximity of my woman.

  “We just met,” she gasps. “I can’t. I need more time. This is all so crazy.”

  “Fine,” I snap. “But you’re living in a dreamland if you think I’m leaving here without seeing you tremble for me, Kimberly.”

  “Oh, God,” she whimpers when I smooth my hands around her tights, from her ass cheeks to the very top of her thighs.

  I slide one hand between her legs, palming her pussy.

  It’s just as wet as I knew it would be, soaking through her underwear and her tights.

  She collapses against me.

  I lay my forearm across her chest, pushing her up against the wall so that I can watch as she quivers.

  I skirt my fingers close to her begging cunt, and then I pause, staring hard at her.

  I read her face.

  Her eyes flicker suggestively. Her forehead creases.

  “Holy fuck,” I groan. “You’ve never had an orgasm before, have you?”

  “Of course I have,” she says, with a touch of defensive sass beneath her words.

  “You horny little thing,” I chuckle. “You’ve given yourself orgasms. But you’ve never had one gifted to you, have you? You’ve never been touched like you deserve to be touched.”

  She turns her face away, her cheeks blossoming red, the flush spreading down over her throat. It’s like she’s ashamed.

  “That’s a good thing,” I tell her gruffly. “It means you’ll always be mine. We’ll always remember this as the moment I claimed you. Now be a good girl and get ready to come for me.”

  “My sister might come home,” she moans.

  “I don’t give a fuck,” I snarl. “I need to feel you cream for me. Your pussy is soaked, right through to your tights. You’re desperate for it. But only for me—you’ll only ever get like this from me. Do you understand, girl? Only. Me.”

  With each word, I press my hand even harder against her cunt, driving the heel of my palm into her clit. She closes her eyes and collapses against the wall, reaching up to grip my forearm, digging her fingernails in.

  “Oh, fuck,” she moans. “Only for you, Kristian. Jesus. That feels so …”

  Her voice trails off when I start pumping my arm, grinding the heel of my palm harder and firmer against her pussy. She lies back against the wall, unschooled, with no idea what to do except to quiver atop the pleasure I drive into her.

  She bites her lip in an effort to stop her moans from escaping, but even so, she starts to sing and sigh for me, her whole body twitching as I rub my hand faster and harder.

  I study her face, her eyes, the way her cheeks tremble. I study the flush spreading deeper into her skin.

  My cock pulses each time she moans, as though the two are connected somehow.

  Her lips open wide, becoming a perfect just-mine hole. I imagine driving my cock right up to the hilt as she begins to writhe against me.

  Her body knows what to do even if she’s never done this before.

  After a stunned minute, her instincts begin to drive her.

  I press her even harder against the wall, pinning her in place. She grips my forearm so firmly I can feel her fingernails against my skin, leaving marks that will persist long after I leave this apartment.

  “Fucking cream,” I growl, bringing my face closer to hers. “I can feel how close you are. I can feel how badly you need it. Cream for me, Kimberly. Cream like the excitable horny virgin you are.”

  “Oh, oh,” she gasps, pumping her hips in time with me now.

  She’s a fast learner.

  “That’s it,” I growl, moving my arm so furiously it’s a wonder I haven’t pumped her through the wall.

  “Ah, ah,” she moans, and then her moan turns hollow and her whole body begins to shake.

  She throws her head back and bites down on her lip, exposing that gorgeous neck again. I move my hand from her chest and grip her throat instead, squeezing it lightly, pinning her in place as I continue to hammer her greedy cunt with my other hand.

  The orgasm moves through her visibly, making every part of her tremble for me.

  I wrench down her tights and clasp my hand against her naked, hot, soaked pussy.

  She can’t hold back her moans when I press my skin against hers, smearing her squirting juices over her lips and her clit. I press my thumb down on her clit, stroking it furiously, gripping her neck a little harder, enough to show her who’s in charge.

  But I don’t hurt her.

  I’d die before I caused her any harm.

  And I’d kill if anyone tried to.

  Finally, her trembling begins to slow down. She falls against me, resting her cheek against my chest.

  I find myself almost smiling, properly smiling, something I haven’t done in years.

  I reach up and cradle the back of her head, running my fingertips through her hair.

  “Good girl,” I say, stroking her over and over, my other hand still plucking tenderly at her clit.

  “Oh, Kristian,” she whispers. “
That was … I don’t even know how to describe it.”

  “It was just the beginning,” I tell her.

  She steps back, fixing her skirt and tights, looking at the floor for a moment before meeting my eyes.

  “Tell me this is real,” she says.

  I chuckle and bring my come-slick fingers to her face.

  She leans away at first, her nose wrinkling.

  “No,” I snap. “Don’t you dare move.”

  She whimpers and lets me bring my pussy-socked fingers close to her face.

  “Suck your sweet cream off my fingers,” I tell her. “And tell me if that tastes real.”

  Her eyes glint. I can see how badly she wants it, even if part of her is grossed out.

  That makes it all the more exciting for me—knowing how far she’ll go to please me.

  She’s my own personal fuck-toy virgin.

  I’m going to train her so well.

  She grasps my wrist and then opens that fuckable mouth of hers, sucking her juices from my fingers, bobbing her head up and down the same way she will on my cock.

  “Good girl,” I growl, withdrawing my hand.

  I turn for the door.

  “Wait, you’re leaving?” she asks.

  I pause, glancing at her over my shoulder.

  “I have business to attend to,” I tell her. “But we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”

  “When?” she asks.

  “Look at you,” I smirk. “Already so needy. We’ll see each other whenever I want us to. Don’t forget who’s in charge here, Kimberly. And don’t forget who you belong to now. That means no looking at other men. No flirting with them. No anything with them.”

  “I don’t want anybody else,” she says, a shocked quiver in her voice, as though she’s still struggling to believe that this is all happening.

  She better get used to it quickly.

  I don’t know what I’d do if another man touched her.

  All I know is it’d be bloody and violent.

  “What size clothes are you, Kimberly?” I ask when a thought occurs to me.

  “What?” she whimpers.

  “You heard,” I say.

  She bites her lip, hugging her arms across herself. I don’t understand the sudden anxiety that has caused her features to warp and contort.