The F King: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 3) (11 page)

S
tacey was a miracle worker
. With a ten-dollar investment in thrift shop clothes and dollar store accessories, she transformed me into an eighties pop star, complete with garish make-up and a side ponytail.

The party was getting into full swing. A mass of wacky characters coming together for the first time on the dance floor, while Godzilla squared off against Spongebob in an epic game of beer pong at the side of the room.

It surprised me how enthusiastic Ryan had been about attending the Halloween party. He said it was one of the best parties of the year when he was in college, though, so I guessed that was as good a reason as any.

He’d supplied me with ten grams of F and told me how to cut it with powdered food coloring to make it go that bit further. He said it was all I needed to pay for my tuition and accommodation for the rest of the academic year.

Of course, all I had done was hand it in to Sergeant Shelton, who gave me some money that had previously occupied the evidence room. It would have been impossible to find cash more randomized in serial numbers and infused with the chemical traces of its drug-loving owners than this.

All I had to do was pay Ryan back for the F he’d given me on credit, and then I’d be in good standing with him for potential future deals and getting more involved in the business. That’s how the story was supposed to go, anyway.

In reality, handing over the F to my CO felt like the betrayal of the century. Doing it made me feel like a robot, disconnected from myself and going through the motions I’d been programed to do.

Underneath the self-assured, cocky even, exterior there was so much more to Ryan. He was smart, funny, fiercely loyal, and he’d shown me such devotion over the past couple of months that it was tearing my heart in half living this double life.

He said he never told anybody about why he got involved with this F stuff as a side business and, going by the way it cut him up to admit, I believed him. I felt terrible that it took all these lies to weasel my way into this position of trust. He deserved better.

Telling him about that horrific night with my foster father, James Salter, took the edge off my guilt a little bit too. Even thinking his name made my skin crawl, but sharing that part of me was like opening up the armor a little. It let me feel like I made some kind of real connection between Ryan and myself.

When I wasn’t with him, I couldn’t shake the guilt and the knowledge that everything that felt
so good
and
so right
was going to crumble and fall to pieces around us. When I
was
with him, well, he brought Sarina Bell to life, and gave her the kinds of intangible things that made Sarina Beckett more than a little jealous.

It was so fucking weird to be thinking about my undercover identity
and
my real identity, both, in a detached way, as if the essence of “me” was floating around trying to figure out which life I belonged in. When Ryan texted me saying he’d just arrived, my heart soared and it was a welcome leap out of the swampy existential crisis my mind was creating for me.

I grabbed an extra drink and made my way towards the entrance, painfully aware of how much more thrilled I was to be seeing Ryan than I had been to hand over the drugs. Then things took a turn for the surreal when he came through the doors.

Complete with inflatable nightstick, mirror-finish sunglasses and suspiciously realistic-looking handcuffs, Ryan was in full police uniform. I was a statue, carved with an expression of full disbelief, as Ryan spotted me and bopped in my direction in time to the music.

“That for me,” he asked, pointing at the red plastic cup full of beer.

I nodded.

“Thanks. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Resisting arrest?” He reached for his nightstick.

I shook my head, as much to say “no” as to clear the cobwebs from my brain. “Uh… no. That’s just a very realistic costume. I was going to hand over some money tonight, but this makes me feel like I have to watch myself!”

“Oh you do, ma’am, are you trying to bribe an officer of the law?” he said, curling his free hand around me and bending down to give me a kiss.

As soon as his lips touched mine, I felt my worries slipping away from me. I melted against him and by the time he pulled back, I was feeling more like myself again. Or more like Sarina Bell. Who was I?

As far as Ryan was concerned, I was an eighties pop diva here to dance the night away with, and he didn’t waste any time taking me out into the middle of the floor. Sometimes we danced alone, sometimes in a circle made up mostly of the girls I’d taken out on that first night, and the guys who were trying to get into their panties at the moment.

Whatever we did, I couldn’t keep my eyes off Ryan. I’d seen a lot of people in uniforms a lot like that one, but none of them ever filled it out quite like he did. Truly, it had never looked sexier.

The alcohol flowed and the music was good enough to make the dancefloor crowded. As luck would have it, there was just the right mix of costumes in the room for Ryan to take part in an impromptu tribute band when YMCA by The Village People came on. Somebody even loaned him a fake moustache for the song.

I was feeling pretty happy by the time the dancefloor started to thin out a bit, taking advantage of the occasional slow song to snuggle up to Ryan and just sway a bit to catch our breath between the more energetic numbers. His hand was on my lower back, hovering precariously close to my ass when he bent down and whispered in my ear.

“Let’s go back to your room,” he said.

“Lose the moustache and you’ve got a deal.”

Ryan peeled it off and flung it over his shoulder without even looking behind him. That was the last I saw of it. We left with our arms around each other’s waists and headed for the elevator.

We passed more peculiar pairings than ourselves on the way, but it was still difficult to shake the bizarre notion of me, an undercover cop, getting taken back to my room for what was no-doubt going to be yet another intense orgasm by the man I was supposed to be investigating… dressed as a cop. That didn’t stop me from wrapping my legs around him when he lifted me off the ground after the door to my room closed behind us, though.

As we kissed, I knocked his hat off his head and ran my fingers through his hair. He gripped my ass tight and lowered us down on to my bed.

“Ma’am, for crimes against fashion and music, I’m gonna have to take you into custody.”

“You’ll never take me alive, copper,” I said.

“You’re a feisty little diva, I’m gonna have to teach you to respect the law.”

I bit my bottom lip as Ryan reached for his handcuffs and overwhelmed my token resistance to secure my wrists to the headboard above me. The handcuffs rattled against the metal bars as Ryan’s hands slid down my arms, caressing the sides of my breasts before coming to a stop just over my hips.

“The Keytar isn’t a crime, man!” I said, wriggling as his fingertips slipped under my shirt and traced lightly on my skin towards my breasts.

“That’s for the courts to decide. You hiding anything on your person that I might find interesting, young lady?”

His hands reached my chest and I arched up against him, squashing myself against his palms. My nipples hardened inside my bra and Ryan gave me a playful two-handed squeeze.

“Hmmm… what do we have here?” he said.

Ryan pulled his hands out and gripped my shirt at the collar. With a sudden yank, he ripped the old material right down the middle, revealing my more modern underwear.

“Did you know it’s a crime in this state to cover up a sexy body like this, ma’am?”

“Look who’s talking.”

Ryan smiled and pushed his hips forward, grinding himself between my legs and leaving me in no doubt that things had taken a turn for the hard down there. His fingers traversed down my chest, across my belly, then rose up to his shirt.

With each button he undid, he revealed more of his lean and muscular torso. The handcuffs rattled again as I forgot myself for a second, and tried to reach for him so I could feel the hard curves of his body the way he had felt my soft ones.

“You’re in a whole heap of trouble, miss.”

“I have a license for that synthesizer.”

Ryan shrugged off his shirt. I had my legs gripped around his waist, and tried to make him fall forward so I could kiss that inked masculine perfection. I loved the way it felt when I licked his body and my tongue slipped into the grooves created by his abs. It was like a sexy maze to navigate.

Unfortunately, this time it seemed Ryan had other plans. He planted his hands on either side of my pillow, stopping himself from falling into as my tongue’s domain. He pushed his swollen bulge against my sex through my panties again and I sighed happily, bucking my hips a little.

Regaining his balance, Ryan reached behind my back for the clasp of my bra, and I arched again to give him easier access. When he snapped his fingers, I felt the instant relief as the underwire released me.

He ran his fingertips along the line where it had hugged me so tightly, loosening it further, before gathering it and my ruined two-dollar shirt into his grip and pushing them both up over my head. With me secured to the headboard as I was, he couldn’t get them completely off, but it was good enough to leave my upper body completely exposed to anything he wanted to do to me.

I was forced to unhook my ankles from behind him, so he could move back slightly and bring his mouth to each of my nipples in turn, squeezing and kneading my breasts appreciatively at the same time. When he turned his attention to one, the cool air on his saliva teased the other nipple erect, until every touch of his tongue, lips and fingers had me straining and writhing against my restraints.

Ryan moved backwards even further, kissing his way down my navel. His tongue swirled around my bellybutton, and I gave the most wide-smiled sigh any girl ever gave as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my skirt and panties.

He pulled and I squirmed until he was off the bed and I was wearing nothing but mismatched bright green and pink knee-socks. I closed my legs modestly, and Ryan smirked in response as he dropped my clothes on the floor.

There was nothing he hadn’t seen before, in close and intimate detail, but I knew he liked the hint of a chase. I also knew by now that every thrill I gave him would be paid back to me tenfold when he used all his expertise to pleasure me ways I couldn’t even imagine another man being capable of.

“Please, officer, I’ll do anything if you’ll just let me go,” I said.

“Anything?”

Ryan undid his belt and pushed his pants down, revealing inch after inch of cock that was just throbbing its way to full-mast. The sight of it drove me wild every time, but tonight I wanted it more than ever.

“Yes, sir,”

“Well, I think tonight I’m going to fuck that tight little pussy of yours until you
sing
. How about that?”

Somehow I’d managed to rein in our lust after that first night, satisfying our needs in other ways before things boiled over and Ryan ended up fucking me again. There was some part of me that tried to justify it as a middle ground between my two lives.

Maybe it was the way he’d worn that uniform tonight, or the way he laid out his plan for my sex just now, but I was so fucking
wet
for him that I convinced myself that the middle ground was a lie. The middle ground was a place where I didn’t stay within the rules of my old life, and I didn’t give myself or Ryan what we both really wanted in
this
life.

Seeing him walk into the room earlier, all the close dancing, and especially seeing him here now, my body was preparing me to take every inch of that wonderful thick cock that he wanted to give me. I wanted him inside me, and I wanted him
now
.

“You think you can fuck me hard enough that I’ll sing?” I asked.

Ryan slowly climbed back on the bed, roughly spread my knees and reclaimed the position an alpha male like him deserved. He leaned forward, putting his weight on one hand and grasping his hard shaft with the other.

I could feel my labia kissing the tip of his cock when he locked eyes with me and made sure he had my full attention. I was panting excitedly through my mouth, but tried to calm down, waiting for the powerful thrust that would bring us together again the way I’d been denying myself for the last two months. It never came.

“Only if you
beg
for it,” he said in a harsh whisper.

I
pushed
myself down as low as the handcuffs would allow, but Ryan moved with me, keeping ultimate ecstasy poised just at my entrance. With a quiet whimper, I admitted defeat.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

I bit my lip. “Please… please…”

“Say it, Sarina.”

“Please… fuck me.”

Ryan pushed his hips forward, not hard enough to thrust his thick cock inside me, but enough that I gasped at the wondrous pressure.

“Make me
believe
it.”

“Please
fuck
me!” I said, fueled by the tantalizing closeness of what I wanted.

“You’re
mine
, Sarina. Tell me to fuck you
hard
.”

“Yes!”

“Yes,
what
?”

Ryan rubbed his cock upwards across my clit, and I let out a high-pitched yelp in response as a jolt of bliss hit me. My brow knitted together, looking at the masculine perfection above me, all those muscles poised to give me everything I wanted… all I had to do was beg for it.

“Please!
Please, sir!
I’m yours, you can do anything you want to me! Fuck me hard, I need it!”

Ryan smiled, and I felt that buildup of pressure at my entrance again. I smiled, sure that
this
time I would get what I wanted.

“No. Not yet. I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

I growled in disbelief and frustration as he pulled back again. “
Fuck. Me!
” I demanded.

“That’s a good song but I want to taste you first, you little pop princess.”

Ryan kept moving back until he was half off the bed again. He lowered his head between my legs, cupping my ass with both hands. I craned my neck down to watch him, and we locked eyes again as he planted a kiss on my pussy, followed by a little flick of his tongue that just barely dipped inside my honey pot.

I bucked my hips, instinctively trying to grind myself against him, but I was already as far down as I could get and my efforts didn’t amount to much. Ryan had me at his complete mercy, he had the power to give and withhold pleasure as he saw fit. I couldn’t see the smile on his face, but the look in his eyes told me he was enjoying every second of that power.

Ryan licked me, deeper and slower this time, gathering up the slippery juices that were flowing more freely the longer he teased me. He ended this lick with a kiss on my most sensitive spot, and I squealed quietly in response, my thighs twitching to briefly hug his head.

The handcuffs rattled noisily as Ryan painstakingly explored my folds with his lips and his tongue, occasionally flicking my clit to give me a hint of the pleasure to come. Ryan made appreciative sounds and I laid my head on the pillow again, letting my eyes roll back for a moment.

His rough stubble sometimes touched my delicate skin and stood in stark contrast to the otherwise soft and wet attention he was giving me. It framed his kisses, it complemented his licks, and it all drove me halfway to the nuthouse with desire.

Without letting up his assault on my sex, Ryan ran his hands along my thighs until they met my knees. He pushed my legs upwards and outwards. My ass raised off the bed and my pussy lips parted slightly as he stretched me out, licking me deeper still.

It was still a crazy feeling, even aside from the conflict with what my job was supposed to be, being in such an exposed and vulnerable position with a man. My body was laid bare before him, a captive playground for his pleasure if he wanted, but he was devoting himself to indulging my needs, even if I
had
begged for the grand finale first.

His hands moved back up my legs until he curled one arm around my hips, as if holding me in place. I moaned as his tongue flicked back and forth across my clit, and I felt a fingertip at the entrance to my sex.

Slowly, he inserted that finger inside me, and although I bucked my hips again, he stayed right with me thanks to his grip. My pussy squeezed his finger, already seeming like a tight fit, even though I remembered just how much thicker and longer his cock had felt when he took my virginity.

I thrashed my head from side to side as the pace of his tongue quickened. The rattling of the handcuffs, my moaning and Ryan’s primal growls all merged into one under the growing hum in my ears. His finger moved in a ‘come here’ motion that rubbed against the front wall of my vagina, touching some place that reminded me a lot of the spot he’d found on my neck, and I reacted similarly.

His finger seemed to stoke a fire in my belly, and the heat pulsed back to my clit. Every fizz and spark of that fuse was pure bliss, and Ryan was going to make me explode again if he would only keep doing what he was doing for a few more seconds.

As if he’d abused his power enough already, Ryan didn’t let up. When the fuse burned down, I shut my eyes and screamed my pleasure. My first boyfriend was latched on to me, his finger inside me, and he made sure he eked out every last scrap of ecstasy my climax had in it.

I twisted from side to side, and the handcuffs pulled at my wrists almost painfully. My nipples ached too, but the borderline pain only seemed to prolong my ecstasy, it was all part of the mind-blowing package.

It felt like my entire body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat when Ryan moved himself over my heaving chest again. His eyes scanned me up and down, that alpha-predator smile on his face again.

“You’ve got a good singing voice, you sexy fucking bitch, let’s see what other songs you know.”

With that, he brought the tip of his cock to my entrance again, but this time there was no tease. I was soaking wet, and after stroking the head up and down like a paintbrush a couple of times, coating himself in my natural lubricants, he slammed his cock home into my depths in one hard stroke.

My entire body shook with the impact, the sudden flare of sensation reigniting the tail end of my orgasm and making me moan loudly. I may not have been a virgin anymore, but I’d held out for so long since our first time that it almost felt like it.

Ryan’s cock felt positively
huge
inside of me, and he wasn’t holding back even a little bit. With long, powerful, strokes, he fucked me
hard
, just like I’d begged him to.

Unleashing on me whatever raw male energy had been pent up over the past couple of months that I’d been unable to quench with my hands and mouth, Ryan hammered my body with almost superhuman power. Every muscle stood out, straining in the effort to fuck a near-virgin girl like the slut his dirty talk had labelled me.

His balls slapped on my ass like firecrackers going off under a pillow, and I squirmed as he impaled me over and over again. I didn’t know how I was surviving this, the sensations were so extreme that the line between pleasure and pain was a distant memory.

All I knew was that something had to give. He was either going to break me or I was going to scream the house down with my second orgasm in quick succession, but there was no guarantee on which side I was going to fall.

“
Fuck
that’s a hot pussy,” he grunted, pulling my legs up over his shoulders.

Just when I felt the tide turning away from pain, Ryan reached under one leg and lifted it up and passed it in front of his body to the other side, pulling himself out of my depths. I heard myself demanding that he not stop, and I could hardly believe the lust and desperation in my voice.

Thankfully, he wasn’t stopping for a drinks break. He slipped his hand under my hip and pulled, flipping me over on to my stomach.

The handcuffs twisted around the headboard, pulling my wrists a little tighter, and Ryan straddled me. Before I knew it, his cock was inside me again.

For the first few strokes, his hard dick felt cool from having been in the air, but that soon passed as he resumed his powerful rhythm. My whole body shook with his rough sex, making my nipples rub against my sheets and providing no small measure of satisfaction in the process.

Ryan leaned forward and curled his arms around me, making sure I stayed exactly where he wanted me instead of getting fucked up against the headboard. With this new grip, he found some kind of miraculous higher gear, and I had no choice but to bury my face into my pillow to scream affirmatives as the blur of cock suddenly pushed me over another precipice of ecstasy.

My pussy clenched around his cock, as it had with his finger, though with the girth of his rod it was a much more uneven match for my inexperienced sex. Still, even through the haze of my orgasm, I could hear Ryan let out a primal growl as his seed splashed hot and deep inside me.

I could feel waves of pleasurable spasms running through my body, and I turned my head from the pillow to gasp for air and sigh contentedly. For the first time since entering me, I felt Ryan lose his rhythm as his thrusts became more sporadic, and every deep stroke was punctuated by a thick jet of semen claiming my depths as his and his alone once more.

Ryan gently nuzzled the surprise erogenous zone behind my ear, as we basked in the afterglow and I lost all track of time. It was entirely possible that I floated on that cloud for hours, with nothing but his hot breath and lips on my skin, his still-hard cock still firmly inside me, and a mind blissfully distracted from any guilt.