Falling For Her Dad's Boss: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 181)

by Flora Ferrari

  I reach out and wrap my fingers around his wrist where he supports himself on the bed, watching with wide eyes as he slowly moves further inside me. His head pops inside with a sensation I can feel deep within, and he keeps coming, and coming. I feel so full, like nothing I ever could have imagined. Like he was made exactly to fit inside the space within me, a space I never even really thought about until now, tailor-made for him.

  When I think he can’t possibly go any further he keeps pushing in slowly, until at last he eases off with a hiss of breath, throwing his head back quickly. By his reaction I know he’s all the way inside, so full and tight I can barely think or breathe.

  Nick rests for a moment, then slowly and carefully pulls out, then pushes back in. I concentrate on trying to breathe, just experiencing it all. It feels tight and a little sore, like a pinching inside of me, but it’s nothing like I was afraid it might be. It feels good.

  Nick moves slowly and gently inside of me until the pain goes away and it only feels good, and then he lets out a low growl, his hand trailing over to squeeze my breast possessively. “Can’t hold on anymore,” he grunts. I’m about to ask him what he means when he begins to move again, picking up the pace, thrusting into me faster and harder.

  I feel the breath rushing out of my body as he pumps again and again, unable to take in so many sensations at once. I clutch at his arms, his shoulders, trying to hold on, fisting my hands into the sheets. Sounds are coming out of my mouth that I don’t even recognize, guttural moans and groans and gasps, sounds that are fully animal, out of my control. The pressure is building inside of me, I could swear he somehow gets bigger with every thrust.

  Nick shifts positions, kneeling in front of me and grabbing my legs to pull them up and over his shoulders. The sudden vacuum inside of me exists for only a few seconds before he fills me again, feeling so right, so good. He thrusts again and I squeal in surprise, feeling him pushing in even deeper than before, hitting nerves I didn’t even know existed.

  I can barely grasp hold of things like time or space, floating only as a bundle of nerves at his control, letting him do whatever he wants. It’s what I want, too. It feels so right. I feel like I’m coming apart inside in the most delicious way, forming and reforming, and the sounds I can’t help but make get higher and louder with each thrust.

  And then a great wave of pleasure washes over me, tingling through my whole body, from my head to my toes, all rippling out from the very center of my being where he is inside me as far as he can go, and I can’t stop myself from jerking and twitching in pleasure. Nick groans loudly, and then his smooth hard thrusts go staccato until he lets me go, spilling his seed inside me, basking in the glow of the moment.

  Nick flops down beside me, our heads level once again, and catches his breath.

  “I love you,” I blurt out, then hold my breath, wondering if I’ve said too much too soon.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Nick

  I look at Dahlia with a smile teasing at the sides of my lips, and stroke the sides of her face. She looks mortified, like she thinks she’s made a mistake by saying her feelings out loud. She didn’t. It was just what I needed to hear. I know now that she’s mine, body and soul.

  “I love you,” I say, and as my fingers trail down the side of her face, I feel something like a spark shoot from her skin to mine. A tiny bit of magic. I wonder what it means.

  Dahlia flushes red, though this time not with embarrassment, with happiness. I’m getting used to these flushes of hers. They are the one imperfect part of her, the emotions she can’t hide. I love that about her. It makes her real, more real than I could ever have imagined. Just the right woman for me.

  Something draws me to run the edge of my fingers lightly down to her collarbone, to trace the skin there. She shivers lightly at my touch but leans into it, not away. I’m drawn downwards, down through the valley between her breasts, to her navel. There I spread my hand and place it palm down on her stomach, and I feel it again, a spark of something.

  Something that I can name, now that I know where it comes from.

  “And I love our baby,” I add, feeling the knowledge running through my bones with a certainty I can’t deny.

  Dahlia looks at me in surprise, eyes wide, lifting her head slightly off the pillow. “What did you say?” she asks.

  “I said that I love our baby,” I say. I get up, finding new energy flowing through my veins, and shift until I can lean down to kiss her stomach. I plant the kiss down low, just above her bikini area, where I can picture the cells growing in my mind even now. I lean back again then, quickly replacing my hand in the same position, not wanting to give up contact. “You’re pregnant, Dahlia. I know you are.”

  “How?” Dahlia blinks at me. “I mean, it was our first time. My first time. Isn’t that really unlikely?”

  I stifle a chuckle. “That’s just a myth,” I tell her. “It’s the same probability any time you do it. First time, second, third, it makes no difference. So long as we’re both fertile, and we don’t use protection, it can happen any time.”

  “But how do you know?”

  “Trust me, I just do” I tell her, bringing her hand to my face and kissing the back of it. That’s all I can say, because how do I explain that I feel it in my very bones. That I know it the way I know that the sky is blue and the sun will rise in the morning? “You’re my woman now.”

  “That’s what I want,” Dahlia breathes, her eyes wandering far away as she digests the information. I can see that the surprise is wearing off, and that now she is starting to consider the possibility as something real.

  I let her think it over, already knowing how I feel about it. It’s what I wanted. What I intended, even. But Dahlia has to come to her own conclusions. I want her to be happy.

  “How do you feel?” I ask, her at last.

  Dahlia stirs as if just waking up and meets my eyes again. “If it’s true,” she starts hesitantly, though I know I’m right. “If it’s true, then I’m happy.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to start a family with you. I do. I know that now.” Dahlia nestles in against me, her head tucking against my shoulder while her hand lays on my chest. “I want to be with you. I want to be your wife.”

  “I told you that you’d be mine,” I whisper, ducking my head to lay a kiss on top of her sweet-smelling hair. “Now I will make your dreams come true. You can count on that.”

  I hold her like that for a long while, feeling her breathing settle as she drifts off to sleep. If there’s one thing I know now, it’s that I will stop at nothing to keep her safe, and no one is ever going to take her from me.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dahlia

  I wake up at the first light of morning. I guess we never got around to pulling the curtains over the large glass windows, and it’s almost disorienting to wake up naked in front of that view. Even though I know no one can see in, I’m not used to being so exposed and open.

  But if what Nick says is true maybe I’ll have to get used to people seeing me, at least the part of me where the baby will be. I don’t know what to think. His words seem so sure, and they even strike a chord somewhere deep down inside of me. But I don’t know if that’s just wishful thinking. Could he really be right?

  I stir a little and move away from Nick, rolling to the other side of the bed to cast an eye around for my things. I have no idea what I did with it all until I remember the bag from the spa, our clothes bundled up inside. I think of my lovely new designer dress and wince, it must be all wrinkled by now.

  It feels strange to pad around the suite while Nick is still asleep, but I get out of bed and grab a sheet from the floor to wrap myself up in, we must have kicked it off in the night. The very first thing I have to do is find my cell phone, because I realize I never told my Dad I wasn’t coming home last night. He must have noticed I didn’t come in, and I bet he’s worried.

  It’s a miracle that my cell isn’t dead, but the battery is
still just about hanging on. Enough that I can see several missed calls from him. I wince to myself again and dial his number, waiting for it to connect with bated breath.

  “Honey?” He answers after only a couple of rings. “Where are you? Are you alright?”

  “Hey, Dad, sorry,” I say, closing my eyes as I talk. I’m sorry I made him worry. I can hear how stressed he is just by the sound of his voice. “I forgot to call you last night and my phone was on silent. I’m fine, totally. I just stayed over at a friend’s place.”

  “What happened?” Dad asks, sounding exasperated.

  “I’m sorry, really. We met up in the afternoon and we were catching up, and we just had a really good time. We got a bit carried away. I didn’t even realize what time it was, but hanging out turned into a movie marathon and then before we knew it we were dozing off.”

  “Next time something like this happens, you can just call me,” Dad says, clearly frustrated. “I was worried about you. I thought you were missing, or dead, or something.”

  “I know, I know, I’m really sorry,” I say again. “It’s just by the time we realized how late it was, I was so tired I could only just manage to get changed into some of her pj’s and crawl onto the sofa. I’ll be back home later on. I think.”

  “You think?”

  “Well, actually, I’m waiting for my friend to wake up. I don’t know what her plans will be.” I bite my lip. I feel bad telling him these half-truths, but what am I supposed to do? There’s no way I can tell him the full truth, who the friend really is, and just why we were up so late together. Or what we were doing.

  Dad sighs on the other end of the line. “Well, there’s no need to rush back, I suppose. So long as I know you’re alright. I’ll be out tonight myself, anyway.”

  “Got it,” I say, full of regret. For making him worry, not for anything else. Last night was so right, and wonderful, and beautiful. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

  Someone calls Dad’s name in the background and he tells me goodbye, ending the call. I sigh and move back towards the bed, where Nick is now leaning on his elbows and watching me sleepily.

  “Everything okay?” he asks me.

  “Yeah,” I say, climbing back into bed, still wrapped in my sheet. “Just clearing my schedule for the day.” Of course, it’s a bit of a joke. I don’t work and I’m done with studying for the moment, so I had nothing at all planned.

  “I’m glad,” Nick says, pulling me towards him for a chaste kiss. “But I can’t clear mine, I’m afraid. I have to go into work today.”

  I groan. I knew it had to be too good to be true. “I won’t see you until tonight?”

  Nick grins. “I know, it feels like a long time to me, too. But at least there will be something to look forward to and I don’t just mean getting back in here together.”

  “What, then?”

  “There’s a party tonight.” He kisses my shoulder then my collarbone. “I’d like you to come as my date. I want to show you off already.”

  I can’t stifle my smile. “Sounds good to me. What kind of party is it?”

  “Black tie,” he says. His kisses are trailing along my arm as he shifts over me.

  “What should I wear? The dress we bought yesterday?”

  Nick smiles and shakes his head between kisses that trail down my chest, almost to the top of the sheet where it covers me. “I’ll have someone send up a personal stylist with a rack of dresses you can choose from. You can stay here all day and wait for me. Entertain yourself. I already have a suit hanging in the closet here.”

  “I’ll still miss you,” I say, hanging my arms around his neck as he leans above me to kiss me. “But aren’t you going to be late?” I could tell Dad was at work already from the noise in the background. I can only assume that means Nick is supposed to be there, too.

  He shoots a look at the clock and swears, then kisses me deep and hard one last time before vaulting out of the bed. “I’m showering and then running,” he says. “Have a good day. Pick something nice. Price is no obstacle.”

  I know he means it, and it makes me blush again to think of spending so much of his money. But, I think, still wrapped up in the sheets we made love in last night, if I really am pregnant with his baby, then I probably deserve it.

  Nick is gone in a whirlwind, somehow looking completely professional and put-together within less than ten minutes, and I plant a kiss on his cheek at the door before heading into the shower myself. As the water runs down over my naked body I think of it touching his skin only a few minutes before and close my eyes in bliss, knowing that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Nick

  I get back to the hotel in a rush, not because we’re going to be late for the party, we have plenty of time for that. But because I haven’t been able to think about anything but Dahlia all day, through all of the boring meetings and endless reports. All I have wanted is to get back to her.

  Stepping in through the doors of the penthouse suite, I’m not disappointed. I drop my key card on the table and tear off my jacket and tie, moving towards her with a purpose. She is stunning, simply stunning. She’s picked out a simple yet elegant navy blue gown, following the shape of her body and leaving her arms and shoulders bare.

  “Hey,” she says, and that’s all she manages to get out before my hands are on the sides of her face, my mouth claiming hers.

  “Oh, wow,” she gasps out when I release her. “Do you… do you like the dress?”

  “I love it,” I growl, searching the fabric for a zip or buttons or some way to get it off her. “It’s gorgeous. You’re a goddess. I worship you. Now, get it off.”

  Dahlia half-laughs, her fingers obediently finding the hidden zip at the side of the dress, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath her breasts are bare, her sex exposed. She is completely naked. I run both my hands and my eyes over her, raising an eyebrow.

  “You didn’t get me any new underwear,” Dahlia says, with a naughty smirk that goes all the way to my cock and sets me even more on fire than I already was. “What was I supposed to do?”

  I answer with a growl instead of words, lifting her up and carrying her to the wide glass windows that look over the city. As private as it may be from the other side, where everything appears black, from here it feels as if the whole world could see us. I spin her around and push her up against the glass until her breasts touch it, her hands splayed on either side of her body, the whole city there below her.

  “Do you like the thought that they might be able to see you?” I ask, slipping my hands around and between her legs from behind. I nudge them apart with my knee, making her gasp as my fingers find and begin to massage her most sensitive nerves, mercilessly stroking her. “Do you want their eyes on your body, staring at you, worshipping you?”

  A shudder runs through Dahlia’s body. It sends a primal pride through me. This woman is mine, and only mine. I reach down for one of her legs, hefting it over my elbow and lifting it high until she is exposed even more, bending my back so that I can get the right angle to thrust my fingers inside of her.

  “They can look at you,” I whisper, feeling her shiver and loll her head back in response. “But they can’t touch. You are mine. Only mine. If anyone else touches you, I’ll rip their hands off and shove them down their own throats.”

  Dahlia gives a strangled cry in response, a fresh shiver going through her body. She is wet and slippery under my fingers, gushing with desire. I’ll show her what happens when she dares to give me that naughty look.

  I lift her again, hearing her moan with disappointment as I pull my fingers away, and carry her to the bed. It takes only a matter of moments to wrestle my belt and pants out of the way, dropping everything to the floor and entering her as fast as I’m able to, earning a gasp of surprise and pleasure from her.

  She’s so hot and wet, it’s even better than last night. I thrust into her fast and hard in my shirt, not bothering to finish u
ndressing. That would take too much time, and time is something I don’t have. There’s no bone in me that could resist her for the delay of a single second.

  Dahlia is moaning and writhing underneath me, and when I take her nipples into my hands and begin gently twisting the sensitive nubs she cries out. She moves with me now, her hips moving instinctively, bucking up to reach mine, forcing me in deeper.

  It’s the feeling of her orgasm that pushes me over the edge, her walls contracting around me, sucking me in deeper, milking me for all that I’m worth. I come inside her with a low, guttural growl, staking my claim again. We may have created a baby already, but I won’t let her forget that she belongs to me entirely.

  We’re both panting and sweaty by the time were done, I carry Dahlia over to the shower and hold her against me as the water crashes over us. I take the brunt of it, letting her stand back just enough, washing her body without disturbing her hair and makeup only slightly mussed from our escapade. It takes us only a little time to be ready to go, her in that blue dress with nothing underneath that makes me shudder to have her again, me in my tux.

  I offer her my arm as we cross the lobby. I want everyone to know that she is with me, not just walking next to me. As we reach the doors the bellboy is openly staring at her, and I don’t blame him. Her nipples are still hard, and visible as small mounds under the fabric of her dress.

  “She’s mine,” I growl at him as we pass. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”

  I feel a deep satisfaction to see him avert his eyes instantly, going pale and stammering out something that never gets to a conclusion. We’re gone before he gathers himself again, getting into the car that will take us to the party.

  It’s all I can do to restrain myself from tearing the dress off her again in the backseat, but we somehow make it to the party without turning around and going back. I’m seriously questioning my own judgement on that as we head into an elegantly-turned-out ballroom, an old design that must date back to when the building was first erected, full of men and women in suits and subtly elegant dresses.