The F King: A Bad Boy Romance(12)

Even so, there was no doubt that I was already making a mess of the front of his pants. If he cared, he didn’t show it, pulling my sex against him one last time before crawling on to the bed and letting me go.

I leaned up and sought his mouth, kissing him back so much more eagerly than I ever would have dreamed possible. His every movement gave me inexplicable pleasure and I needed it as much as I needed air.

His hand returned to my throat and pushed me back down to the mattress, but my lips still pursued him for a second afterwards anyway. I looked up at him with my eyes half-closed. They kept on wanting to close all the way, so I could just concentrate on the sensations he was inflicting upon my body, but I wanted to see him adoring me.

“Show me,” he said.

I didn’t have to ask what he was talking about, as he lifted my shirt up and over my head. I arched my back to let it go, and bit my lip against my better judgement that was trying to force the word “stop” out of my mouth.

Before my top was completely clear of my arms, Ryan twisted it around. With my wrists essentially bound, he held them over my head, so I couldn’t easily push him away even if my common sense ever returned.

He reached behind my back with his free hand and snapped his fingers like a magician. I immediately felt the relief as my strapless bra went slack, but the cool air on my skin brought me halfway back to reality and I realized that I was about to be completely topless with a man for the first time in my life.

Ryan hooked his finger between the two cups and slowly pulled. I instinctively tried to hold my scrap of clothing against myself, but he kept my arms firmly restrained exactly where he wanted them.

Then it was done. My breasts were exposed to him in the soft light of his apartment, my nipples hard enough to leave me with no plausible deniability about how cataclysmically aroused I was.

My half-closed eyes widened nervously as I tried to read his reaction to what he was seeing. I had nothing to compare it against, no reason to be confident. Would he still like me? Was there something wrong with me?

“Wow… you’re… fucking perfect,” he breathed.

Ryan slid my bra up my arms to join my shirt, then caressed and squeezed my breasts, dividing his attention between the two of them until my nipples were so hard they literally ached. As if sensing my need, he bent down and took first one sensitive pink tip into his mouth, and then the other, flicking them with his tongue and massaging gently with his lips.

He licked and sucked at me with such enthusiasm that I couldn’t help but believe that he meant every word. The ache turned into a kind of heat that joined the current of energy coursing through my body, fueling a growing tingly sensation between my legs that was now impossible to ignore.

After a few minutes, Ryan let go of my shirt and kissed his way down across my navel. I disentangled my arms and grasped at my breasts, missing his attention already. My fingers circled my areolas, feeling them wet with Ryan’s saliva, as I watched him move downwards.

Is this really happening? Are you really letting it?

The voice of reason was calling on a crackly long-distance line. I hung up on it. Although my body wasn’t using words, it was talking a lot louder.

Ryan pulled my legs up until they were draped over his shoulders. Then I felt his fingertips sliding up the back of my thighs, under my skirt, until he had a hold of my panties. From his vantage point, he had a front-row seat to view how wet they were, plastered against my folds by how excited he’d made me.

The nerves resurfaced. No man had ever seen my breasts before, but my pussy was an entirely different level of intimacy. What was I supposed to do?

My body answered the question for me, pushing the backs of my calves against his shoulders to lift my ass off the bed, so my panties could slide down freely. I pointed my toes in the air to let him take them off, before relaxing and letting them flop over his shoulders again.

“You… are so fucking wet for me. Good girl.”

I blushed at the blatant truth, but his praise tempered my embarrassment. Without my panties there, I could already feel a tiny trickle of my slippery juices tickling its way downwards.

Ryan’s eyes were laser-focused on my virgin slit, but he made no move to free his cock from his pants. Instead, he turned his head and kissed my calf, then kissed on the inside of my knee, and slowly worked his way to his prize along the inside of my thigh.

When he got low enough, he had to back off the bed to continue comfortably. Wrapping his arms around my upper thighs, he pulled my ass to the edge to make the last few kiss-steps towards my sex.

This was nothing like I’d ever dreamed of as a young girl, having my first fantasies of what love and sex would be like. Me, an undercover cop on assignment, him a suspect. It was so fucking bad, but it felt anything but. It felt like everything was happening just the way it was supposed to.