Taming Her Beast -Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Taming Her Beast - Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Flora Ferrari

Book Information:

I’ve been running for a long time, flitting from town to town, always knowing that my past is never far behind.
Finally, I end up in Stone Harbor, a gorgeous coastal town in Maine, staying with a friend I met online, and her gorgeous Golden Retriever. Jackie and Lava are good to me. They don’t deserve to be saddled with my baggage.
It’s natural that my first instinct is to run when the car drives up to our isolated house one evening when I’m all alone. But it isn’t my past calling.
Its Markus McCabe, known all over Stone Harbor as the Navy SEAL with a chip on his shoulder, grumpy as grumpy can be. He’s handsome as handsome can be, too. Seven feet tall with silver-black hair, with eyes that could melt an igloo, this intense alpha has me feeling all kinds of obsessed.
I tell myself that a forty year old ex-military man like him would never be interested in me, a twenty-one year old virgin. I was always the awkward curvy girl in school, her head stuck in a book.
But soon I find out that he’s more than interested. He lays claim to me in the most primal way. He dominates me, he owns me, and it feels so freaking good to sink into his embrace.
But what happens when my demons finally catch up to me? Even if Markus is a SEAL badass, does he have what it takes to fight off an army? Worse than that, once he finds out the truth, will he even want to fight for me, for us?
Books by Author:

Flora Ferrari

Chapter One


I keep to myself in the gym, setting up the bench and the dumbbells in the corner so I don’t have to wander around mid-workout. I put my headphones on and listen to heavy metal, the music blasting in my ears, drowning out my thoughts and the noise from the rest of the room. It’s a small-town gym, the walls dappled with dampness, the only other patrons seeming to be in their own worlds, too, which suits me just fine.

I pump the weights and focus on that alone, the heat, the burn in my muscles.

I grit my teeth and breathe quietly with each rep, feeling the strain in my muscles and the welcome soothing feeling flowing through me, through my biceps and my chest, and then down through my whole body.

I add more weight, pumping, feeling my busy mind grow quieter with each successive rep.

Then I stand and start the deadlifts, straight after the bench press, glancing at myself briefly in the mirrors that cover many of the walls. That’s the only downside to this place, all these damn mirrors, tugging my attention away from my workout.

I look in the mirror and see a six foot ten man, his muscles bulging in his – my – SEALs T-shirt, hair graying at the edges and black in the middle. I catch my own eye and wonder if I always look this haunted, this eerie look in my expression, as though I’ve seen more than most men can imagine.

Well, that’s fitting.

I have.

I turn away and keep on with my workout, the sweat pouring now, my clothes sticking to my muscles, outlining them in the drenched fabric.

Finally, after an hour of nonstop body punishment, I finish my workout and clean everything up. I wipe down all the surfaces and put away all the weights, leaving my little corner looking untouched, like I was never there.

That suits me, too, because I don’t plan on being in the small town of Stone Harbor for long. It’s been a year since I retired from the military and since then I’ve hopped from town to town, never settling, searching…

For what? a voice mutters in my mind as I make my way across the gym, toward the exit.

I don’t know how to answer that question, really.

I never planned what I was going to do when I left the military with a bunch of medals and glory and memories, not to mention a sizable retirement package. Some of my fellow soldiers did, those with families, mostly, with their five and ten year plans.

But not me.

I head toward the exit, the world already turning dark in the late afternoon, the Maine winter sending flurries of snow across the darkened glass of the double doors.

“Hey, wait a sec,” someone calls out behind me.

I keep walking, assuming they’re talking to somebody else here. I’ve purposefully avoided making friends in any of the towns I’ve briefly stayed in. It’s easier that way, not letting people in, not getting into any entanglements that might stop me from roaming freely.

“SEAL,” the voice calls out, a woman’s high pitched tone.

I sigh and turn to find a woman standing there, stick-thin in ultra tight yoga gear. Her hair dyed, and an insane amount of makeup for a gym visit applied to her face it seems to me since surely she’s just going to sweat it all off.

She comes sidling over, purposefully swishing her hips from side to side, not that there’s much to see there.

Curves, that’s what a man like me needs, curves to grab onto, to dominate.

Not that I’ve been with a woman in a very long time.

“Yes?” I say tersely.

“Why you in such a rush, hon?” she smiles, giving me a look I don’t much care for.

It’s a look that says, I could be yours for the taking if you only just asked.

I just stare at her, not sure what she thinks is going to happen here. I’m aware that most people in this town must think I’m one cold bastard, but I don’t give a damn.

Let them think it. I won’t be here for long.

“I just thought you might’ve forgotten your coat,” she says a moment later, eyeing my bare arms. “It’s pretty cold out there, hon.”

I really wish she’d stop calling me hon, but I’m not about to throw a temper tantrum about it.

“I don’t mind the cold,” I tell her gruffly.

“Oh, I see,” she says with what I guess is supposed to be a seductive look. “You’re a man who knows how to keep warm in other ways, then? You know, I might be able to help with that.”

She makes to step forward and place her hand on my chest. I slide back, just out of reach.

“I’m fine,” I mutter. “Is there anything else?”

She flinches, as though I just slapped her. It seems like she’s not used to being refused. I don’t care, though, because I’m not interested in her—or any woman.