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The F King: A Bad Boy Romance(82)

By:Ada Scott


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.





Skylar





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.