Intern For My Best Friend's Dad: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance by Flora Ferrari (different e readers .TXT) 📕

My cock aches.

I’m glad my leg is across my knee, obscuring me.

My balls are suddenly aflame.

“Mr. Sky?” she says, wringing her hands as we gaze at each other across the vast distance of my office.

“Please,” I say, my voice somehow coming out steady. “Take a seat.”

I gesture to the white couch opposite.

She walks across the room, her wide made-for-child-bearing hips moving subtly from side to side. My fingers twitch with the desire to grab those hips and guide her into my lap, pull her tights down just enough so that I can slide my throbbing, hot dick right up inside of her.

Can this really be the same girl I had dinner with before I left for England?

I remember a shy, nerdy girl in braces, barely even visible to me.

She was just Caitlin’s friend, nothing more.

Now she’s a nineteen year old woman, all grown up, and my cock won’t stop pulsing as I study her every movement.

She drops onto the couch and rests her elbows on her knees, wringing her hands together, causing her breasts to jiggle slightly.

Fuck, this is a human resources violation just waiting to happen.

Every instinct I possess is roaring at me to claim this woman right now.

She’s not wearing much makeup if any at all, and her face is so young and fresh looking I almost leap across the table like a beast and fuck her pretty little mouth.

I imagine those naïve eyes growing wide and horny as she looks up at me in shock. There would be a moment of surprise, but then she’d start to moan and bob her head in time with my thrusts, moving her tongue around my bulging shaft as I take all the pleasure she has to give.

She’s mine. I own her. She belongs to me.

How can I know this already, with this bone-deep certainty?

I don’t know. I just know that it’s true.

If another man tried to touch this voluptuous, sexy thing, I’d break him.

I force the thoughts away, trying to think of Caitlin instead, of how sickened she’d be if she knew I was fantasizing about her best friend.

“Would you like a drink?” I say, realizing neither of us has spoken.

I’ve just been staring at her.

Maybe she thinks it’s some sort of CEO scare tactic.

“Um, no, it’s okay,” she says. “I’ve just had some coffee, so I’m still buzzing.”

A light film of sweat touches her forehead, making me wonder if she’s sweaty, wet, and hot in other places. I salivate when I imagine how tangy and soaked her pussy would get—how soaked I’d make her if I could strip away those clothes and unleash my true desires on her.

I lean forward, my body heaving, my heart beating so heavily it feels as if it’s going to burst from my chest.

“Firstly, please call me Solomon,” I tell her. “I don’t think we can sit here and pretend I haven’t known you half your life, Sophia.”

A smile touches her lips, bright and radiant.

Crazily, a vignette of Sophia smiling in that same way after giving birth to our first child flares alive in my mind.

I need to tame these unbridled thoughts before they end me.

“Okay, Solomon,” she says. “And you can call me Sophia.”

I smirk.

Of course, I’ll call you Sophia, I want to tell her.

I’ll call her any damn thing I want because she belongs to me.

I’ll call her my personal fuck-toy if I want to, to let her know what use I’m going to make of her perfect full body.

But no, I can’t. I can’t even think it. I have to remember Caitlin and what this would do to her.

“Okay, Sophia,” I say. “Basically, I just want to say hello, and let you know that even if this is a big business, we operate with a small-business ethos …”

I trail off. She’s looking at me with a glint in her eye, perceptive and sassy. It’s the sort of sassiness that enflames my desire like nothing else, a wildfire of need surging through me.

“So you’ve got a good bullshit detector,” I chuckle. “That’s good to know.”

Her smile fades and she leans back, shaking her head.

Does she know that every time she moves quickly, her ample breasts jiggle like they’re trying to hypnotize me? Does she really not know the effect she’s having on me?

“Oh, no,” she says. “I didn’t mean to come across like that at all. I think what you’re saying is—”

“A bunch of business-speak,” I say. “It’s fine. You don’t have to lie to me, Sophia. You never have to lie to me.”

Feral certainty enters my voice on the word never.

I wish I could snatch it back immediately.

My body hurts just being close to her.

I can scent her in the air, her perfume mixing with her just-her smell, all of it swirling around me and driving me closer and closer to the edge.

“Okay,” she murmurs breathily.

It’s the same way she’ll get all breathy and hot when I claim that round, perfect ass of hers. I’ll massage it, spank it, let her know who it belongs to until she’s gasping and begging for more.

“How are you finding your first day?” I ask, striving to return the conversation to some sense of normalcy.

“It’s great,” she says brightly, with the sort of optimism that would fill our children with hope, confidence, and love.

I need to stop letting my mind veer close to thoughts like that.

Otherwise, they’ll consume me and I won’t be able to stop myself.

Her lips are as full like the rest of her, begging to be kissed, begging to be used in other ways.

“Everybody is really friendly. I can’t thank Caitlin enough for getting me an internship here.”

“No, Sophia,” I snarl, with far more passion in my voice than is appropriate. “All Caitlin did was show me your art. You got yourself the internship here. You’re incredibly talented. I’m just glad we found you before one of our competitors did.”

Her cheeks turn that flushed red color, the color of lust, of desire, of need.

I feel the same need,