He looks pained, shaking his head as he shrugs before he strides over to me.
I’m shocked at myself, I actually tug his arm and start hissing at him, like he’s a naughty child.
“What’s she doing here?” I nearly spit in his ear.
My narrowed eyes scan his face before I shoot a look over at the couch.
Her face is turned away from me, but I can make out her body under what looks like a damned cocktail dress.
Who the hell dresses like that in a storm?
Her big chest, even bigger hair, and long manicured nails all scream fake to me. But by the look on my Dad’s face, this is the kind of woman that men want.
Thin, busty, and makeup applied with a trowel.
“What’s wrong, Misty?” Zak asks, pulling my face to meet his with his thumb and forefinger. “I got the Doctor, didn’t I?”
“I suppose you had her give you a physical before you came back down?” I hear myself whisper, feeling my lower lip starting to tremble.
Zak grabs my arm and yanks me into the kitchen, just out of sight of the good doctor and my Dad, who seems to be hitting it off wonderfully as she coos at him while he really hams up his moaning.
I gasp at the speed and force which Zak’s grabbed me, but it’s nothing compared to my hurt, nor his own reply.
He kisses me so hard, with such intensity I feel like an idiot for doubting him. His hand presses flush against my center, making my legs almost go out from under me as his fingers start to press hard against my now saturated pussy.
The man’s like a god. He can draw moisture from a desert with a single touch, with just a look even.
“This is what I want,” he says firmly, gripping me again. “This is going to be mine. Understand Misty? I want you. Nobody or nothing else. You will be mine,” he says with such passion I moan aloud, prompting a call from my Dad if I’m alright.
“We’re fine, Mark,” Zak almost growls back at him, his eyes burning, fixed on mine. I know he won’t let me go until I remind him and myself who I really belong to.
My breath shivers, and I lean against the wall to stop from sliding down to the floor.
“I just don’t see how you could go for a girl like me-” I start, sounding pathetic until his hand eases over my pussy again through my jeans, gentler now as he cups my neck bringing my lips to his.
“You will see,” he says ominously. “And you’ll learn what it means to belong to me. Women like that?” he says, not even moving his eyes from mine. “They’re not what I want. You’re what I want, Misty, and I’ve already told you. I’m going to have you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zak
“Uh, caught you at a bad moment?” her husky voice chimes from the doorway.
Dr. Veronica Foskin.
She taps her claws against the door jamb, a brow raised at what she sees. I’m banking on doctor patient confidentiality, plus the shame I know she’d feel admitting she saw me with Misty instead of her like this.
Misty gives a little mew of satisfaction as I release her from my grip, deliberately pressing my hand to my lips for a moment.
“Not at all,” I tell her, deadpan. “Just appreciating a little of what’s mine,” I tell her, and to remind Misty she’s the only girl I’ll ever look at.
“What’s the prognosis, Doctor?” I add, grinding that heel in a little deeper.
I didn’t have the heart to tell Mark or Misty that the good doctor is a Ph.D. A doctor of philosophy.
She did, however, complete an extensive tour of South East Asia and is apparently a dab hand at massage and other local forms of remedial treatment.
Or so she told me.
She clears her throat after flashing just enough venom in her eyes to tell me I can pass her up at my own peril, which is fine by me.
I’ve got the real thing by my side, and I do like a little fat on my steak. Not a line of gristle.
“Your friend’s slipped a disc,” she says coolly. “I don’t know that you’d find a hospital within a few hours’ drive, and they’d most likely recommend what I do too, bedrest and no excitement, a little walking after a few days when he’s up to it but it should correct itself with the best medicine we know – time.”
Heals all wounds.
Almost.
I think again about Mark, our friendship and the friendship I know means the world to him. The one he has with his only daughter.
Do I really love her so much that I’d risk upsetting both of those things?
One glance at her clear blue eyes, watching her still leaning against the wall like that, and my answer is still a hard yes.
“He sounds like he’s in agony though,” Misty ventures, looking past her as though she’s talking to me or herself instead.
“He’s putting it on a bit, I think,” The Doctor says, pumping her hair with one hand while she sticks her chest out a little further.
“Real men know what they want,” she says, looking at me with a forced sympathy.
“Thanks for reminding me,” I correct her. “How much do we owe you?” I ask, noting the dismayed sound Misty makes.
“It’s on the house,” she murmurs, and I watch her eyes scan me up and down for what is, hopefully, the last time.
“But… but what about Dad?” Misty squeaks. “He can’t stay here, not like that,” she protests, making our Doctor grin with her own personal satisfaction.
“I did offer to take care of your Dad, we have a hot tub and a much harder surface,” she replies with a shrug. “But he insisted on staying here, for Thanksgiving, with his best friend. And his only daughter,” she adds, her dark eyes boring into me as she enunciates each word before turning her back to us.
“Is she really a doctor?” Misty asks me, and I shake my head.
“Doctor of philosophy… although she did study anatomy, so she told me,” I tell her, not wanting to upset her and I’m glad when she stifles a laugh.
“Dad does seem pretty taken with her,” she adds, and I have to agree. Mark’s in so much pleasant pain all of a sudden, it almost seems a shame to break those two up.
Once Misty and I make our way back into the lounge Mark is just as dismayed as his own daughter was just now once Veronica announces she’ll be going.
“But doc?” Mark pleads. “I’m in agony here, you gotta do something, ‘least until I can reach my chiropractor.”
Veronica looks from Misty to me, a crease forming at the edge of her painted mouth.
She mouths a figure, a number and it makes Misty gasp, but I’m already reaching for my checkbook.
“Powers down at your place?” I ask, discreetly handing her the check which makes her brow cock again once she sees I’ve doubled her price.
“Phones too… even the cell towers are out. We could be laid out for hours, maybe days,” she says huskily, almost winking, but the cold look returns to her eyes once she sees Misty sidling up next to me.
Veronica saunters back to Mark, almost whispering her recommended treatment in his ear, promising he can be back for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.
Misty makes a feeble protest, but her Dad has made his mind up. Whatever the good doctor has suggested has eased his pain and he’s even able to keep a brave face on while we bundle him up in some blankets and I practically carry him to her waiting car.
“I’ll be back soon, honey,” he promises Misty, then looking at me he adds, “We’ll still have thanksgiving, I promise.”
I stab a nod, and even though it’s cold and wet, Misty and I stand in the driveway long enough to make sure the cars well out of sight before her hand even begins to slip into mine.
“We have a lot of work to do,” I warn her. “That turkey’s not gonna stuff itself.”
Her grip on me tightens.
“And it’ll need so long to cook,” she adds. “Hours, almost all day tomorrow.”
“Lot of free time after that,” I muse aloud.
Before I know it, she’s let out another of her squeals of d
elight and jumped straight into my arms, her thick legs straddling mine as I hold her up, my fat dick already pounding through my pants, eagerly searching for her hungry hole.
I wanted it to be someplace else, someplace special. But the sounds Misty is making tell me it’s all she wants, to give herself to me, and if that’s the case I wouldn’t care if we were on the moon or in the middle of the woods by the lake.
“It’s just perfect, Zak,” she whispers in my ear, reading my thoughts as I lean hard against the solid front door.
Closing it behind us.
We’re finally alone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Misty
Our eyes are so close, it’s like looking into each other’s souls and we both agree silently to no more couches.
Zak gravitates towards my room by instinct, and although it’s a little bit girly, a little bit small it’ll do just fine for now.
I only remember the single bed, the size of the room once Zak’s inside it with me.
He laughs a little as he sets me down on the bed as it groans under his weight and mine.
“Like a pair of feathers,” he says, grinning. And I know, I just know he’s going to break the bed but I don’t care.
Apart of me wants him to, to break it as he fills me with his hard length as I scream his name.
A giant clap of thunder rolls over the house, shaking the windows and the roof, as the rain starts to come down even heavier.
I have a fleeting thought of my Dad but it isn’t long before Zak has my full attention and everything else in his hands.
For someone who’s usually so shy, I can’t get naked fast enough and Zak’s slow nod and his low groan tell me he’s liking what he sees just as much as he did earlier.
He peels my jeans off but leaves my panties on, running two hard fingers straight down my wetness before bringing them to his lips.
“Mine,” he groans, reminding me what he’s already told me, except this time I know it’s all his for sure. I’m gonna make sure of that.
He moves down my body, kissing from my neck to my thick chest after I toss my sweater off and tear at my bra. He thinks he can pleasure me like he did with his mouth first, but I can’t wait for that.
I need him inside me.
I need to give him what I know he’s been longing for.
“I want this, Zak,” I tell him, both my hands finding his huge member through his pants, unzipping him like I’ve rehearsed a thousand times in my head.
“I want this so deep inside me,” I tell him. “Make me all yours like you promised.”
“We’ve got all night,” he reminds me, but I shake my head gently, moaning now as I feel my legs widen for him, my pussy aching for him more than ever.
“Do I need to do it myself?” I tease him, making myself jump as one of my hands brushes my already drenched sex, shuddering all over.
“Oh no you don’t,” Zak growls, making the bed creak as he puts his full weight onto the bed between my legs, guiding my hands to the smooth, hot tip of his cock which has its own wetness flowing freely from it.
I groan with satisfaction and register again just how big Zak is.
How big all of Zak is. My hands are small and I want to pleasure him, feel him. I want to run my hands all over his huge, muscle studded body.
I want more than I can lay a hand, but Zak remedies all of it by pressing his whole weight on me, gently.
Our skin on skin contact is like a mini climax in itself and we both grunt and growl happily as I start to shimmy under him, feeling his heat drag across my belly.
Zak tries to use his tree-trunk arms to hold his full weight off me. “I won’t break,” I tell him, making him growl.
“Oh yes you will,” he promises me, as one of his hands yanks my legs further apart, making me whimper, making me beg for him to fuck me.
“Say it!” he demands, and I feel the swollen heat of his mushroom head slide against my quivering hole, making me forget how to even think let alone speak.
“Make me yours… I’m yours…” I stammer, which is like the magic words as Zak growls again with satisfaction.
I hurl my arms around his strong neck and my legs, I don’t even want legs anymore, they just get in the way but they’re somewhere down there, wide at first but wrapping around his strong thighs as he starts to ease his way into me.
I moan so loud I’m grateful for the thunderclap, but after a few more seconds, my own sounds plus Zak’s are all I can hear ringing in my ears as the blood thrashes against my ears.
My own heartbeat is the same as Zak’s, a crazed rhythm between us, his shouting the same as my own as our bodies slowly start to merge.
He’s big alright, but a perfect fit at the same time. Every part of him seems to slot into place with my own shape. My own curves. Inside and out.
He guides himself in slowly and firmly, I trace my hands up and down his arms, feeling the fibers of his muscles, the pulsing of his veins as he tenderly fills me.
I have just one second of pressure which makes me wince, and once Zak’s pressed through that barrier, I know I’m his forever.
I know I can never belong to anyone else, ever.
“You okay?” he whispers as if he can’t tell. My moans match the movement of my hips as he fills me up all the way, making me wail as he reaches a place inside me I never even thought could exist.
The power of him there, holding me outside while pressing so perfectly inside.
It’s exquisite.
I could die happy right now, but I know I want a lifetime of this man filling me, right here, right now, in this place.
Sensing my feelings, Zak picks up the pace and he starts to move, harder and faster, in time with the stiffening of his own organ I thought couldn’t possibly get any harder while staying so smooth and hot inside me.
His hands grip my hips, and then finally my ass as he starts to pound me as I whine he needs to fuck me hard, fuck me so hard I can come for him.
Come on his fat length.
It isn’t long enough, I feel it welling up inside me. I try to stop it but it’s like a pulsing wave that’s been woken up from someplace I never knew existed.
“I’m gonna make you come, Misty… come for me,” he groans, quickening his pace and giving me approval for the one thing I’ve dreamt of for so long.
My hands are shaking so bad I can’t hold him anymore, only clutch at the bedsheets as I feel him swell against my slick valley while he pushes harder into me than ever, making me do what he promised.
I call out his name and tell him how much I love him at the exact moment we both share a climax that makes my first with him seem like a distant memory.
I expect him to say I’m his again, but what melts my heart, what makes the moment even more special is how he tells me what I know I’ve longed a real man to tell me my whole life.
“I love you, Misty. And from now on it’s just you and me… I love you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Zak
Hearing myself say it, out loud at such a moment. I know she’s the one. It proves she is.
As if I could have doubted it for a moment.
I stay inside her, turning her onto her side, and pull the covers over us both.
The perfect big and little spoon if ever there was one.
Her hands hold mine up under her chin and I can see her permanent smile as I kiss her cheek, smiling myself at discovering just how happy a man can be when he finally has the only thing he’ll ever need.
His soul mate.
I can hear the rain on the roof, and after a while, the soft whisper of Misty’s breath on my hands as she sleeps. I daren’t move a muscle in case I break the perfection of the moment. But try as I might, I can’t keep my own eyes open.
After a time, I know we’re both halfway between this world and sleep, which is only interrupted by her shifting under me, with more thunder and rain waking us both up with a gentle start.
A dreamy feeling that to me
feels just like a few moments have gone by, but once Misty cries out the time I know we’ve overslept.
A lot.
“It’s alright,” I tell her, stroking her hair back and kissing her neck. “What’s the hurry, we’ve got a bird to stuff and put a few things in an oven.”
She leans back into me, sighing for a different reason.
“I know,” she murmurs. “I just panicked for a second, like last night wasn’t real maybe.”
“Oh. It was real alright,” I remind her, flexing my renewed hardness against the small of her back, making her search it out by pressing into me even harder as she moans softly.
“And there’s plenty more where that came from,” I tell her, hoping for some more of last night’s magic but she seems determined to get up and do this Thanksgiving thing first.
“If only for Dad,” she says, creasing a smile and making us both remember how things panned out so we could be alone.
“I guess, he did ask me over to the other side of the world. A fresh start so I can give thanks to the country that started it all,” I remind myself.
“And so I can give thanks for you,” I tell her, pulling her back into bed, the gray light tracing lines across her body that makes her look more like an angel than ever to me.
My angel.
“So what’s it to be?” I tease her, feeling her under the covers, making her shiver and me harder than stone in a second.
“Meat?” I ask, brushing her mound, “Or potatoes first?” as I stroke her chest gently, feeling her nipples thicken.
“Both!” she says with conviction, rolling over on top of me, gasping as my hardness is pressed flat between her and me, my hands not moving from her.
“And I mean the Thanksgiving dinner we’re supposed to prepare,” she laughs.
Screwing my face up a little, I have to agree. “But surely, some breakfast first?” I suggest, moving so the tip of my hardness plays just at her entrance.
“You mean, coffee and toast?” she shudders.
“Yeah, I do,” I tell her, letting her off the hook. For now.
“But once breakfast and that dinner is underway, I want you back in here with-”
Thankful For Him: An Instalove Possessive Holiday Romance Page 5
