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The F King: A Bad Boy Romance(73)

By:Ada Scott


The guest list consisted of a few friends of mine, a bunch of people organized by Robbie and the NHBFC, like fighters from other weight divisions that I’d never get to fuck up, and their families, and some star-struck girls from Skylar’s college. Some of those girls were going to be living out some fantasies tonight if I was reading the situation right, and I was.

I gave Skylar her first dance for the mandatory photo opportunities, and then hung back because fuck that shit. Skylar cut some shapes out there on the dancefloor with her friends, but came over to me if another guy danced too close for her comfort, as if for some reassurance about something.

To my surprise, whatever distance was too close for Skylar’s comfort was actually further than mine. Heel-face turn or not, I’d have snapped anybody’s neck if they had the audacity to try and pull anything at my motherfucking wedding, even if it was a fake marriage.

As early as was humanly possible, I bundled Skylar off to the limo and climbed in after her. At last, after I put up the privacy window between us and the driver, I had her alone again.

I saw her wringing her hands in front of her, her purity ring now gone and replaced by my ring. She was wearing that little piece of jewelry that proclaimed to the whole world she was mine, and all that was left to do was for me to claim her.

I shifted closer to her and she shrank a little, her body language betraying all her nerves, but those eyes of hers still begged me to fuck her. That wish was going to be granted.

“You were the sexiest woman ever to walk down the aisle today,” I said.

“Oh. Th-thanks. I got kind of lost in the moment there. Forgot myself. I’ve never had a day anything like that before.”

I reached up and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. That white gold and diamond bridal tiara of hers caught a few glints of light, but it wasn’t as bright as her smile had been.

Curling my fingers behind her neck, I took control of her like I had in that spare room at the New Ashby Event Center. I could feel her shaking with that same fear and excitement; she was positively humming under my touch.

“Um… so, you’re sleeping in your room, I’m sleeping in mine?” she asked.

One corner of my mouth raised in a smile, and I had a single humorless chuckle as I reached up under her wedding dress. Those wholesome pecks for the TV spot, and the family-friendly kiss after we were proclaimed man and wife, were nowhere near enough.

I wanted to pick up right where I’d left off, with my hand on her soaking wet little pussy as I kissed her so hard her head spun. Because now it was my pussy. All fucking mine.

“You know what I’d rather do?” I asked.

Skylar’s resistance was as token and ineffective as it had been the last time. Wriggle around though she did, grasp at my wrist though she tried, she actually opened her legs further to give me easier access. Her bluff was called.

“You… you want to have sex with me,” she said.

“No.”

The look on her face told me that was the last answer she’d been expecting, and she went still. Her hands halted their resistance in confusion as I closed the distance to the tight opening I was going to fuck bareback as soon as possible.

“You… don’t?”

“No. I want to fuck you until you scream my name, until you scream it so loud that you know you’re mine as much as I do.”

My hand touched the crotch of her panties and I could feel her virgin slit through the thin material, so wet, radiating sexual heat. Mine.

Skylar gasped and I kissed her, hard.





Skylar





We arrived at our hotel just as I thought I was about to lose consciousness from the intensity of Austin’s kisses. He pulled away, and I panted for air as he opened the rear door. We stepped out to be met with paparazzi taking pictures with strobe-light speed.

It seemed that Robbie’s plan to drum up interest was working, but that was little consolation as a surge of fear hit me. My panties were halfway down my thighs, as Austin had just roughly yanked them down when the limo pulled up to the curb.

With all those cameras taking pictures in the rear of the vehicle, I had no option to pull them back up. I smoothed my dress down and shuffled over to the door, where Austin scooped me up as if he was going to carry me all the way over the threshold from the curb. I offered silent thanks for the length of the gown, and for the fact that I wouldn’t have to do some strange duck-waddle through the media to the hotel entrance.

Austin carried me so easily, it felt like the muscular fighter could have spun me on one finger like a basketball. A pair of girls in the elevator looked so jealous behind their congratulatory smiles.

He did carry me all the way to the door of his room, the honeymoon suite, only taking one hand away from me briefly to drag a key card out of his pocket and swipe it to open the door. Slamming it shut with a backwards kick, he crossed the room and threw me on the bed, where I bounced a couple of times before finding my balance. I sat up with my hands bracing myself on the mattress behind me and my feet facing towards Austin.