The F King: A Bad Boy Romance(51)

Triumph surged up within me as I felt the hot spurt of Ryan’s sperm in my depths. That meant I wouldn’t have to deal with too much more of this torturous pleasure when I floated back down from my own climax. I didn’t think I had the willpower.

Ryan’s fingers pressed into my skin hard, pulling my body against him so he could force his cock as deep into me as he could to unleash his hot semen, until I felt it trickling down the insides of my thighs.

The pleasure-hum started to fade away as he became still, and I felt my hand flop away from my mouth as the power of vision returned. I worked my jaw and licked my lips to the soundtrack of two people catching their breath as quietly as possible.

“I’m sleepy,” I whispered.

“You wanna continue your studies back at my place?” he asked.

“Yeah. Studies. I fucking love you.”

Ryan extracted himself from me and I was inwardly embarrassed at how hard I had to fight not to pout. There was plenty more where that passion came from.

All that lust-filled attention, all that love, could be mine forever if I could figure out the right way to tell him the truth. If there was any right way. That risk was the courage-hurdle I had to fight my way over.





Ryan





Something was wrong with Sarina. It seemed like more than just stress over her next test, despite how much study time Millie was forcing upon her.

Last night, after dinner, she kept on asking me things like where I’d go if I wanted to make a fresh start. She asked me if I loved her, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears the whole night, but wild horses couldn’t drag what she wanted to say out of her.

For all I knew, this was just something that women did after being in a relationship for a few months. It certainly wasn’t something I’d seen the morning after any of my one night stands. I’d just finished booking a couple days away for the weekend after her test, hoping a change of scene would get her to come clean about whatever was bothering her, when a message came through on my phone from another unknown number.

‘This is what you get, cocksucker. Turn on the news.’

My blood ran cold. Holding my phone out in front of me and reading those words over and over again, I picked up the remote.

I could barely feel my fingers as I turned on the news channel. A solemn journalist stood outside somewhere, with the wind playing havoc with her hair and the word “Live” in the bottom right corner.

“… again, authorities have not released the name of the victim, but witnesses are saying it is the most brutal act of violence they’ve ever seen.”

The picture cut to something that might have been recorded earlier, a wide shot of Highston General Hospital… where my mom was. The journalist’s voice came through again, narrating the piece.

“First was a shower of glass, narrowly avoiding expectant father Jeremy Pendergrast as he wheeled his wife into what was supposed to be the most wonderful day of their lives. Instead, something out of a horror movie rained down in front of them.”

The screen changed to show a man looking pale and shaken.

“Legs. Just somebody’s legs from, you know, the waist down. Oh God… they hit the ground right in front of us with just… this terrible sound… just… meat… the blood splattered out… my wife was screaming… I think I was too…”

I dropped to my knees as the numbness from my fingers spread throughout my body. The remote clattered to a floor that sounded a hundred miles away as the journalist picked up with her voiceover.

“A source from inside the hospital, who commented on the grounds that they remain anonymous confirmed that the upper half of the body, a woman in her early sixties, was found, having been crudely hacked in half…”

Without warning, I vomited all over my coffee table, and struggled to hold on to consciousness as the world swam crazily around me. I pushed the table away as I shakily returned to my feet, stumbling to the kitchen before emptying the rest of my stomach contents into the sink.

I could barely even feel the cold water against the fire on my face, as I ran the tap and splashed it on my skin. The burning in my throat from the bile was similarly untouched by whatever water I managed to slurp from my cupped hands.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…”

My stomach cramped up again, but there was nothing left. I turned from the sink and doubled over. How had this happened? What had they found out?

“What the fuck have I done?” I groaned.

Around the solid knot of my stomach, I could feel anger spluttering like an engine trying to start while submerged in a swamp. With a shaking hand, I picked up my phone up off the floor.