The F King: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 3) (23 page)

I tried to raise a hand to wipe some sweat off my brow. “Wha…?”

A
ccording
to the alarm clock next to the bed, it was just after ten o’clock in the morning. By the time I’d finished fucking Skylar last night, the early-morning light had just started peeking through the curtains.

I couldn’t have had much sleep, but I’d slept like the
dead
in the time I did. That was the longest non-stop sexathon I’d ever had, even when I’d had more than one girl to spread the load over.

She took it all though, my wife absolutely
drained
my balls. Her pussy felt like fucking magic, heaven on Earth. I’d never felt anything like it, and I’d never wanted to stop.

Even now, thinking about her tight little pussy, I was getting hard again. That was pretty weird. Usually I just wanted a chick to fuck off in the morning, if not earlier. I’d already taken everything I wanted from them, used them up completely, so why would I go back for more?

Next to me, Skylar was a cum-soaked wreck. Sleeping on her stomach, I could see her legs were parted under the sheet. After last night, I bet she’d be walking bow-legged for a while, and they might have to bury her in a y-shaped coffin.

I propped myself up against the headboard. Skylar mumbled in her sleep, turning her head to face me with her eyes still closed. Even in the dim light, I could see a hint of cum in her hair, and spots of her virginal blood on the sheets.

Her virginity was
mine
, and I’d taken as much from her as any other woman I’d been with, so why was I still feeling this… attraction to her? I shook my head and swung my feet stealthily on to the floor.

I started getting dressed, looking down at her, but I had to turn around to finish off. When I looked at her, it was like I was looking at the embodiment of sex appeal itself.

She was hard to resist. I left the room without looking back, putting my shoes on in the hallway. By the time I walked out to the street, the fresh air, and the distance from Skylar, started to clear my head.

What I needed was a big breakfast, and to start concentrating on my next fight instead of this circus act. Skylar was a prizewinning fuck, I had to give her that much, but that was all.

I couldn’t let her get in my head, and I sure as fuck couldn’t let myself start believing the lies in her eyes. Hopefully, after last night, she’d realize I was just another guy who wanted to get into her pussy, and she’d save those hero-worship looks for my cock and the cameras.

The last thing on my mind was being a fuckin’ hero. That shit never works out.

At the end of the street was a diner that served breakfast until eleven o’clock, according to the sign in the window. I stepped inside and headed towards the counter.

A group of college chicks, sitting in a booth, stopped talking for a second and then started chattering excitedly in rushed whispers and intermittent giggles. Even out of the corner of my eye, I could see miles of cleavage.

I didn’t look directly at them; they’d come to me soon enough. After a minute or so browsing the menu, a guy behind the counter asked me what I’d like this morning.

“I’ll have the mega-big-time country breakfast. Extra bacon. Orange juice rather than coffee.”

He looked me up and down. “I’ll make that serving on the large side.”

“You do that.”

“Have here or takeout?”

“I’ll eat here.”

Skylar could get room service or go do her own thing, didn’t matter to me. I paid my money and took my number, which was attached to a little metal stand so the waitress would know where to bring the food, and took a booth away from the front windows.

Somebody had left a magazine on the table. Since it had Ernesto Sanchez on the cover, the man who would soon become known as my little bitch, I decided to flip through it. I was only a few paragraphs into the article about his unparalleled pride when I caught a whiff of perfume and a glimpse of sorority slut to my side.

“Um… excuse me, aren’t you Austin Aquila?”

I looked up and saw their appointed leader standing there, a tall blonde with a clearly enhanced chest that she was showing off with a low cut vest top. Her hands were clasped around a felt pen in front of her short shorts, and the insides of her elbows were pushing her tits together so they spilled out. Subtle.

“Yes I am,” I said.

She squealed and bounced. “I knew it! I was there when you broke Hirokito’s arm, it was the best day of my life! You’re the best!”

“Thanks. Did you want me to sign something?” I gestured at the pen.

I wonder what
.

The girl got a devilish look in her eye. “Well… I don’t have anything here, I mean, a napkin is
so
boring… how about…”

She sat down next to me without waiting to be invited, scooting over close so nobody could see exactly what she was doing. With one hand she pulled her top down an inch or so, revealing a little more of her curvy flesh and the edge of an overworked bra.

“… here.” She finished, holding out the pen.

For fuck sake. I was supposed to be avoiding groupies like this for the sake of my new image, but the way this chick was behaving I was going to have to either fuck her or take out a restraining order.

I took the pen and thought about adding a note like “Money Well Spent!” or “Great Tits,” but just went with my signature even though there was plenty of space. That cleavage was a distracting background while I signed her tit. I had no doubt she was popular at her college.

“Thanks! Hey, my friends and I are just kinda passing through on a road trip. I was wondering, do you like to, you know, party?”

I played dumb while I tried to figure out how to get rid of her without making a scene. “I’m in training right now, so I don’t go clubbing or anything.”

“Well… what about a more… private… party?” She slid a couple inches closer, my name standing out clear in wet ink on her tit.

I sighed. “Listen, I dunno if you heard or anything, but I just got married so…”

“Aw, that’s so sweet…”

She didn’t get up to leave.

“… but… like, she doesn’t have to
know
, or anything. My friends and I… we like to share. We’re very
close
.”

“Listen, uh…”

“Candy.”

Of course. “Listen, Candy, I’m sure you’re all a lot of fun, but I can’t.”

“You
sure?
We wouldn’t tell. You see my friend Debbie over there, the little brunette?”

I looked over to see the other two huddled together looking intently back at us. “Yeah.”

“You wouldn’t know it to look at her, but she can deepthroat
anything
, and she likes choking on cock until she almost passes out. She’s a lot of fun,
and
you can do anything you want with Bella and I while she recovers.
Anything
. I told my boyfriend that you were on my ‘list,’ I’ve got a free pass for you. Our hotel is just around the corner.”

I could see it all now, the look on this chick’s face when we got back to their room and they realized they’d bitten off more than they could chew, when I fucked them all past their breaking point. Debbie choking herself out on my cock while I made the other two sixty-nine each other for my entertainment.

Part of my mind was whirling, thinking about how I could get to their hotel room, fuck them senseless, and leave later on, without being seen. I could get one of them to give me their key card, we could leave the diner separately…

They thought they were something special, as if I’d never been offered anything like this before. I had. They were hot, for sure, but…

Another scene played through my mind, this one something that had happened last night. I was fucking Skylar for the fourth or fifth time, missionary style and going slow before a big finish.

She had her hands clasped behind my neck, watching me fuck her as she squirmed just below the point of moaning her pleasure. Her face was my favorite feature, such an exciting mix of innocence and sex. I wanted to watch her expression when I came in her tight little pussy this time, to watch that knowledge flash behind her eyes as I took everything I wanted from her.

“Am I… good? At this? Did I…” she trailed off.

It sounded like competing teams of wild horses had been fighting between dragging the question out of her, and stopping her from asking it at the same time. Something told me she’d been fighting a long and exhausting internal battle with her own sexuality. She wanted to be in control of it, to own it somehow and accept that side of herself.

“You’re fucking incredible.”

“Do you l-like… me?” she whispered.

Thinking about it now, she caught me by surprise.

It wasn’t because she asked. Most girls ask that after I’ve made them cum so hard they momentarily lose their vision. It wasn’t because I told her “Yes.” That’s just what you said to women until you’re finished fucking them.

At the time, I thought that was all it was. That’s what I’d tried to convince myself when I left this morning too. But the truth was I
did
like her. That was the surprise.

I
liked
the way she looked at me when we did that promo spot. I
liked
the way she said her wedding vows. I
liked
the way she kept coming over to me for comfort and reassurance at the reception. For fuck sake, I even liked falling asleep with her in my arms after we screwed the night away.

Skylar was about fifty billion times hotter than this gaggle of groupies combined, with a pussy that was mine alone. That didn’t hurt. I’d never seen a girl more turned on by me who
still
tried to fight the attraction. It made me want her all the more.

I couldn’t run off and have a foursome. Not on the first day of our marriage. Probably not even for as long as this thing went on. I couldn’t do that to her.

Motherfucking dammit. Who’d have thought that the first girl I’d want to fuck more than once would be my wife?

“Well?” Candy asked.

I took a deep breath. This marriage was going to take a lot of restraint.

I
tried desperately
to hold on to my dreams, but I could feel myself floating up into consciousness until my eyes slowly dragged themselves open. What I really wanted to do was sleep for the rest of the week.

Never in all my nineteen years had I woken up so tired. Every muscle screamed fatigue, and protested any attempts to move with burning aches that went right to my core.

When I bent my knees, the pain that flared
between
my legs was much sharper, reminding me of the non-stop sex last night. I wasn’t what anybody would call unfit; I went to the on-campus gym regularly, but Austin was like a nuclear-powered sex machine.

I looked to the other side of the bed. My neck muscles burned with the simple movement, and my heart sank when I saw it was empty. There was no sound coming from the room or the attached en suite. He was gone.

With no less effort than if I’d woken up from a months-long coma, I struggled to a sitting position and pulled the sheet up over my bare breasts. The sheet… lower down I could see the evidence of what I’d given up last night, and the memories of the last time I spoke to my dad on the phone flashed through my mind.

“Dad… I’m getting married. I’ve found someone and I’m getting married. Will you… will you come for the ceremony? Will you walk me down the aisle?”

“You pregnant?” he asked.

“No.”

“Who’ve you been spreading your worthless whore legs for?”

“Nobody, Dad. Why do you have to…”

“Well, why else is he marrying you?”

“Maybe he likes me.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Come on. We all know there’s only one thing a slut like you is good for. You’ve always been like that. Your mother would be turning in her grave.”

I felt so empty. His words hurt, but I’d already spent all the heartache I had on the search for his love and approval. A lifetime’s worth in less than twenty years.

“You won’t come?” I asked quietly.

“No.”

After a silence that seemed to last an hour I spoke as calmly as I could. “Goodbye, Dad.”

I never wanted to speak to him again, yet in this moment it felt like so much of what he’d always said was true. There was only one thing men wanted from me, and only one thing a girl like me ever had to give.

Here I was, having just given away something that was supposed to be so precious, and I was alone again. As if, now that I’d given my virginity away, Austin couldn’t even hang around for a few hours.

I didn’t know what exactly it was that I wanted. I went into this sham marriage with my eyes open. I had no right to expect Austin to have real
feelings
for me. Just… did he have to leave me alone straight away?

I’d fought so hard to feel like my virginity, my very sexuality, was even mine to give away, to wrestle its ownership away from an overbearing parent who went much too far in his role.
Mine
. It was supposed to be
mine
.

Would I even see Austin again outside of our scheduled public appearances? I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and ran my fingers through my hair.

The hair on one side of my head felt matted, and I had a flashback to last night, Austin kneeling over me and stroking his cock as thick ropes of cum splattered my face and hair. It was hard to believe now, but the evidence was right there.

I’d been so lost in the moment, mesmerized by his overwhelming masculinity and ability to drive me halfway to the nuthouse with lust, that I’d been doing my best to catch as much of it as I could in my mouth, lapping at the flying sperm and frantically swallowing to make room for more. Nothing and nobody besides Austin had ever made me let go of myself like that. Why couldn’t I live in the moment more often?

That’s what I needed to do. Maybe this morning wasn’t all I dared hope it might be, Austin wasn’t here to sweep me up in his arms and tell me I was something special, but last night… I was the center of the universe.

The sound of a keycard in the door struck a lightning bolt of fear down my spine. Was it time for the maids to come through already?

I tried to spring to my feet to bolt to the bathroom, but I had no spring left in me. My stiff muscles responded so sluggishly that I had to abort the maneuver and cover myself up as best I could. I yelled something about not being ready for house cleaning and prepared for the most humiliating moment of my life.

Despite my instructions, the door swung open like in a nightmare… only to reveal Austin there, carrying a plastic bag at his side and giving me a funny look.

He came back
.

“Don’t worry, if you like the room like this, I won’t clean it,” he said.

“Oh… um… sorry, I thought…”

Austin waved my explanation away. “I know. Hey, I… uh… I got you some breakfast. I’m… sorry, since we’re married and all I should probably know this, but I didn’t know what you would like. I just got all kinds of different shit. Pancakes, fruit, a cinnamon roll, those little boxes of cereal, yoghurt, whatever. Really made the diner guy’s day with this order.”

A lump was forming in my throat, and the more I tried to hide it the worse it was. It was so damn
silly
too. Such a little thing.

He came back… and he brought me breakfast in bed!

“What are you crying about?”

I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand and sniffed. “N-nothing. Um. Thanks for thinking of me… I know that’s not in the contract.”

The awkward look on his face made me snort-laugh, as if he was already uncomfortable enough with doing something nice for somebody without me adding to the predicament with getting all soppy. I gave my eyes one final wipe and sniffed again before clearing my throat.

“I usually have a banana cut up on top of my cereal.”

Austin reached into the bag and pulled out a small bunch of bananas, giving them a little shake. “You’re in luck. You wanna eat here, or at the table?”

“What I’d really like is a shower first, but… I can barely walk today.”

I blushed and Austin’s smug-count went up a couple of points, though without any hint of mockery. He put the bag down on the side of the bed.

“Well, since I’m partially responsible for that, let me help you.”

“Partially?” I asked.

Austin didn’t answer. Instead he tugged on the sheet, pulling it off my naked body. I held on to it for a second, then let go. It was nothing he hadn’t seen already anyway, right?

He looked me up and down, then licked his lips. I had no reason to think it was in anticipation of the breakfast he’d brought up.

Rising to his feet, he scooped his arms under my knees and armpit. The tips of his fingers lightly touched the side of my breast as he lifted me with ease, like he was carrying me over the threshold again.

I looked up at him and sighed contentedly. The corner of his mouth rose a little. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said he was enjoying himself.

Luckily for me, one corner of the shower was shaped in such a way that a poor sex-ravaged girl could sit down on it. Austin set me down there and turned on the taps, making sure the temperature was right before twisting the showerhead so the wonderful warm water blasted down on my legs.

I wriggled my toes as the warmth started spreading upwards. It felt heavenly. Austin pulled his clothes off and stepped in with me.

My eyes went wide and I sat up straight, my back pressed against the cold side of the shower. He was so casual about it, but the sight of him still sent waves of excitement and fear through me.

Last night had all started so fast and just kept on going, I barely had time to think about how
unusual
it was to be anywhere near a naked man. Now, there was no such luxury. I was naked. In a shower. With…

Holy shit, he’s so
HOT!

“Close your eyes.”

He detached the showerhead and got it good and close to my head, ruffling my hair with his free hand to help the water soak in.

Not the first time he’s made you wet, huh?

I clamped my mouth shut against another snorting laugh as Austin used one of the complementary miniature shampoo bottles and got up a good lather. It was like having a head massage and, oh my gosh, it felt good.

Once I was rinsed and I could open my eyelids again, Austin got to work with the soap. This time it really was a massage, as best as could be done under the circumstances. I guessed he owed me one of those.

His skilled hands rubbed and squeezed my sore muscles, getting the circulation going while giving me the kind of show with his dripping wet naked body under the shower that women around the world would kill for. He was poetry in motion. Violent poetry when he needed to be, but still poetry.

When he was done, I could support my own body weight again, and I returned his favor, slowly exploring that exquisite body of his as I rubbed shower gel all over him. I glanced up, as if for permission, but then caressed his manhood before he granted it, before I could lose my nerve.

We were married now, this had been inside me. Surely this was my wifely prerogative?

After the urgent need of last night, this slow shower dance in the light of day was so different, but it felt no less sexy, and even more…
liberating
.

I never wanted it to end, but it did. Thankfully, once we were each bundled up into
incredibly
soft bathrobes and I had a towel wrapped around my hair, we shared our first breakfast together as man and wife.

The warm food had made the cold food heat up a little, and vice versa, but I’d have been lying if I said it wasn’t the best meal I’d ever tasted.