The F King: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 3) (26 page)

I moaned against his hand as he leaned into his fucking and almost flattened me out again, despite the pillows pushing my pussy back up against him. Those long
hard
strokes alternated between filling me up completely and leaving me feeling empty and desperate for more.

Despite having only just survived the last orgasm, I could feel another one threatening to build up already. He was right, for the time being, I was a slave and his cock was my master.

Apparently satisfied that I had weathered the initial storm and could be trusted not to scream, he reached under me and gripped my shoulder with one hand, holding me in place. His other hand slid under one breast, squeezing and kneading me as much as he could in the confined space.

With his dominant position over my body secured, he fucked me with manic intensity. Alternating between long, straight, powerful strokes and slower
grinding
motions, his cock thrust in at varying angles, leaving no part of my eager depths unattended for long.

My second climax of the encounter began to make good on its threat and my moans started getting louder again. I turned my head to press my face into my upper arm, trying to stifle every
slutty
sound that wanted to burst out of my mouth.

It wasn’t perfect, but it helped, and only just in time. My pussy muscles first fluttered and then clamped down on the thick cock sawing in and out of it, increasing the powerful sensations.

I felt my toes curling, my thighs quivering and the seatbelt dug into my wrists as I strained against it. I squeezed my eyes shut against the flashes of color bursting in front of me. One of my nipples rubbed against the bed, the other against the palm of his hand every time he pounded into me, and electric ecstasy pulsed through my body with every impact.

Hot semen filled my pussy, fueling my orgasm like throwing gasoline on a fire, a fresh splash at the apex of every thrust. All that sperm for
me
. All that dick for
me
.

My unseen visitor was holding me in a crushing grip. It was like being in the clutches of a machine made for fucking as he took all the satisfaction he could. It should have been illegal for there to be
this
much pleasure in the world. Technically, I supposed this
was
illegal.

Questions of legality aside, I had nothing left to give by the time my orgasm faded away. Even Austin was breathing a little faster than normal as he rested on top of me.

Basking in the afterglow, I felt like I was floating, certainly more than simply being on a plane could account for, and licked my lips. It could be disastrous to drift off like this.

“Kimura,” I whispered.

The sleep mask was whipped off and I looked up to see Austin there. I gave him a tired smile and a little squeeze of his still-hard cock, which was still buried to the hilt inside of me.

He smiled back wordlessly and untied my hands, which had fallen asleep during our festivities. After dealing with an intense bout of pins and needles, we rearranged ourselves into a more respectable state and fell asleep.

We never did find my panties though.

W
hile Austin was pulling
our luggage off the conveyor belt in the baggage claim area, I found myself standing next to the old lady from first class. She looked like a Vegas veteran if ever I saw one.

“Great flight, wasn’t it? I’ve never been in first class before.”

“Oh yes. The only problem I find is that the air hostesses are a little
too
attentive. Sometimes it seems like you can’t go five minutes without somebody asking you if you want another drink or something.”

“Hmmm, I suppose,” I said.

“Sometimes I pretend to be deaf or asleep so they’ll leave me alone. You’d be surprised what people say or do when they think I’m oblivious.”

My eyes went wide and I felt myself going pale despite the Nevada heat seeping into the airport. The old lady dragged her suitcase on to her baggage cart, then stood up as tall as she could to look me over.

“Honey, if I had a flight as rough as you, I probably would have broken a hip.”

“I… I’m so-“

She pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her handbag that were so big they bordered on novelty-size. Pausing for a moment, she struck a pose as if she was in a movie trailer.

“What happens in Vegas,” she said and left without waiting for my stammered apology.

When I told Austin what the old lady had said, he laughed so hard that he almost cried. Even on the ride to the hotel, he failed to contain himself a couple times as he thought about it.

After we caught a few hours’ sleep, I was mostly left to my own devices for the next couple of days. Austin spent the majority of his time with his coach, Ross, in the final preparations for his fight with Ernesto Sanchez.

Las Vegas was blazing hot, and my heart sank whenever I came to the edge of an air-conditioned area. It was so intense that I didn’t even go to the other side of Las Vegas Boulevard while the sun was still up, it was just too far!

Thankfully there was plenty to explore on the east side of the strip too. On the day of the fight, I bought myself a little black dress to wear for the evening with a credit card Austin gave me.

It was the perfect mix of classy and sexy, and I was
this close
to squealing when I did a little turn for myself in front of the mirror in the fitting room. I couldn’t wait to show it off for Austin.

NHBFC seated me with half of the wives and girlfriends of fighters in the event. Having learned their lesson previously, the wives and girlfriends of the opponents were seated on the opposite side of the decagon.

It was so crazy to be out there in the crowd with all the lights and noise, instead of underneath it all, working myself ragged trying not to lose my job. The energy was incredible, and the announcer and ring girls were feeding that energy even more as we all waited for the bouts to begin.

Since Austin was in the main event, I was somehow instantly promoted to the highest level of this clique of women. One of them I recognized from my wedding, and they all wanted to see my ring and ask if Austin had truly turned over a new leaf.

Although they were all really friendly, I got along most easily with a nice girl named Emily, whose boyfriend was making his debut in the middleweight class tonight. We bounced up and down together when he won a war of attrition, and her fingernails dug into my arm almost as hard as mine dug into hers when Austin and Ernesto were staring each other down.

From the moment the first bell of the first round rang, Austin was all over Ernesto, putting the current number one contender into one precarious position after another. The more experienced fighter never seemed to be able to get his game plan started.

If I didn’t know better I would have said that, if anything, it looked like Austin was holding back. There were plenty of times where it looked like Ernesto was on the verge of tapping out, only for Austin to lose hold of the submission attempt and make his opponent struggle for a few more seconds of survival before he was trapped again.

A minute into the third round, Sanchez looked like he had nothing left in his tank. He could barely keep his arms up, let alone stage a competent counter-attack.

Ernesto dropped his guard to defend against a brutal combination that Austin was unleashing on his torso, but when he did that, Austin launched a left high kick out of nowhere that caught Ernesto flush on the side of the head. Tens of thousands of people yelled “ooooooohhhhh!” at the same time and Ernesto went face-first into the canvas.

He wasn’t able to regain his feet by the time Austin was announced as the winner by KO, though he did stagger out of the ring under his own power a few minutes after that. The way Austin told it, this meant that the NHBFC would give him a title shot next.

After the post-fight press conference, those fighters still able to stand and who were so inclined went out to celebrate. Emily and a couple of the other wives and girlfriends from our side of the ring came along, so did a couple from the other side and one of the ring girls.

Coming in with a group like that, on the arm of a guy like Austin who made the bouncers look like toothpicks held together by cheap glue, nobody asked me for ID. We filed our way through the club and took our places in two and a half booths worth of seats.

Conversation was flowing well, the fighters all analyzing every minute detail of their and each other’s fights and getting tips on the finer points of submissions from Austin. With a glass of wine in me, I was starting to feel an incredibly happy buzz and Emily was almost ready to drag me out to the dance floor.

I bet with a dress like this, I could even get Austin out there for a song or two, but first I needed the bathroom. I thought that, while I was up, I might as well get a drink for myself and my soon-to-be-heavyweight-world-champion husband to have on standby too, because dancing is thirsty work!

Austin held his glass up and eyeballed it for a second while swirling the remaining drink around the ice cubes, then asked for a whiskey and Coke. He gave me a peck on the cheek that the other wives and girlfriends thought was adorable, but seemed to make Ariana stare daggers at me for some reason.

By the time I was waiting for the bartender to get to me, I’d shrugged it off, though. Not everybody liked the idea of Austin and me together, I guessed.

The bar was long and I was near the left end of it, where it bent to meet the wall, and the bartender was looking pretty overworked. I hoped it wouldn’t take too long to get to me.

A group of three men in suits were camped there at the short end of the bar, talking amongst themselves, two of them leaning on the bar and the other standing up facing them. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it seemed like they were pretty merry.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the one who was standing pat one of his friends on the upper arm and nod in my direction, talking in a lower tone. I looked determinedly in the direction of the bartender, as if I could will him over here.

My telepathic skills were obviously lacking, as the bartender served somebody else. The man to my left straightened his jacket and I heard him say, “Watch this,” before he walked around the corner of the bar and leaned next to me.

“Hey there, gorgeous, can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

“Oh… uh… no, I’m OK, thanks.”

“You sure? I’m out celebrating tonight with a couple friends and I just thought I’d have a whole lot more to celebrate if you joined us. Maybe if you played your cards right, you could come back to my hotel room later too.”

His friends were doing their best to watch intently without looking like they were watching intently. They were failing.

I barely managed to restrain myself from rolling my eyes and tapped my wedding ring. “No. Look, I’m married.”

The man smirked as if I’d played right into his hand. “I saw that, but… uh… I don’t think you came up to the bar by my friends and me by accident. So, mission accomplished, you got my attention.”

“Hey… um… thanks, but no thanks. I’m here with my husband, I’m not interested, OK?”

“Let me ask you this. Did your husband close a deal worth half a mill today?”

What does that have to do with anything?

“Uh… maybe. You never know. Who cares?” I asked.

Behind him, his friends were showing signs of cracking up.

“Well, you know, you’re young, maybe you married your high school sweetheart, I dunno, but this is your chance to be with a real man.”

I couldn’t help it. With his friends snickering behind him, I laughed too. When I did that, his demeanor changed scarily fast.

“Hey, what the fuck you laughin’ at?”

He took a step in my direction and I turned towards him, away from the bar, holding my hands in front of my body. He looked pissed, and I couldn’t back away fast enough before he was standing right over me.

“Sor- oof!”

His fist struck my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. He’d been standing close enough that I didn’t think anybody else saw the punch, and before I had half a chance to recover, he gave me a shove backwards that sent me to the floor, smashing my elbow against a metal railing.

Pain flared from my funny bone, sending an electric sting all the way down my arm. Some people who saw him push me looked like they were in shock. Others, who didn’t, simply thought that I fell, and I heard them laughing at me.

Whoever this guy was
fed
off that laughter and seemed to puff back up as I sat there with one arm folded over my stomach and the other hanging uselessly at my side. My breath came in a painful rasp and my vision was blurred with tears.

“Get the fuck offa me you drunk bitch,” he said. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Hey, I know you!” said a voice I knew well.

Austin came from behind and passed me on my right. The guy in the suit barely had time to turn in Austin’s direction before my husband planted a front push-kick on him that launched him clear off his feet, hitting the corner of the bar in his ribs before landing awkwardly on his back.

The bigger of the guy’s two friends stepped in front of Austin. “Whoa, man, stay out of this!”

Without any pause, Austin scored his second knockout of the night with a right hook, and suit number two fell to the ground by his friend, who was trying to struggle to his feet.

“Aren’t you that cunt who can’t fuck anymore?” Austin shouted, and stomped him right in the nuts, hard enough that I wouldn’t have been surprised if a broken pelvis resulted.

The man’s screams were blood-curdling, and the number of people who had fallen victim to shock when I was first pushed to the ground skyrocketed. Austin shot suit number three a look, and the guy’s hands went up as if Austin had pointed a gun at him, like they were on
strings
.

I started to get my breath back as Austin bent down to lift one of the guy’s feet up off the ground. Before I could understand what he was doing, I heard a sickening crunch and the screams were reinvigorated.

“Aren’t you the shit-for-brains that can’t walk anymore?”

Austin dived on top of him, grabbing a fistful of the guy’s hair and holding his head against the floor. Gripping suit number two’s hair in his other hand he started using the unconscious man’s head as a blunt weapon, pulping the guy’s face.

“Aren’t you that motherfucker who has to eat his food through a straw?” Austin frothed.

It was
terrifying
to watch. All that power and training Austin had, all that rage and violence inside him, focused on men who had no chance whatsoever. Teeth were flying and the guy who punched me wasn’t even moving anymore.

Bouncers swarmed in, and most were sent reeling backwards even though Austin was on the ground. Some fell themselves, clutching their knees, or broken fingers, but eventually enough of them got a good enough grip that they were able to pull him away.

I sat on the floor, dumbfounded by how quickly things had turned from perfect to… whatever you called this chaos. The next thing I knew, Emily and her boyfriend were pulling me to my feet and rushing me out of the club.