The F King: A Bad Boy Romance(88)

I nodded and the hand on my throat relaxed a bit. A couple seconds later, his palm slipped off my mouth and I panted for air, desperate for oxygen to satisfy my thundering heart.

“You got anything you need to say to me?” the voice asked.

If I said Kimura, this would stop, right? The man on top of me had to be Austin. Who else was so big and strong, so used to physical control, that struggling against him was as useless as my efforts had been?

His voice never went above a whisper, making it impossible for me to positively identify it, but if this wasn’t Austin, and he saw me get on the plane, then he saw Austin too… and he’d have to be the dumbest person in the world to be doing what he was doing. It must have been Austin.

He was really convincing though. It was scary… the sense of danger was utterly thrilling.

Smack!

My cheek stung a little at the attention-grabbing slap and I whimpered quietly.

“I said, do you have anything you need to say to me?”

I shook my head no. That hand caressed my face softly for a second and then…

Smack!

“That’s right.” His fingertips trailed down my neck and then squeezed each of my breasts in turn, hard. “You might fool everybody else with your innocent fucking face, but not me. I saw this short skirt and these big tits and I knew you were a filthy whore waiting to happen.”

The weight on top of me lessened for a second and he grabbed one of my arms, then raised it above my head and pinned it there. When he was about to repeat the action on the other side, I took the opportunity to struggle and push against him.

My assailant quickly regained control of my arm and shuffled forward so the bulk of his weight was on my chest, just under my breasts, and his knees were under my arms, limiting where I could move them. I was under control again.

“Oh no you don’t. Feisty little fucktoy,” he muttered.

With both arms pinned above my head, just the way Austin had done on our wedding night, I felt him reaching for something else up there with his other hand. A moment later I felt one of the seatbelts being wrapped around my wrists.

“Stop!” I whispered as loudly as I could, so as not to wake up the old lady in the other corner of the first class cabin or alert the hostess.

“No chance. Not until I’ve railed that pretty little face of yours. Not until I’ve unloaded everything I’ve got into your pussy. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know you’re my tight little cum dumpster.”

I couldn’t help it, I moaned like the slut I was being called. All these words felt so different being spoken now, instead of coming from somebody who resented my sexuality, they were from somebody who was utterly attracted to me.

He finished wrapping the seatbelt around my wrists and drew it tight. When I pulled against it, it only became tighter, and I heard a quiet chuckle as he appreciated my struggle.

With my hands taken out of the equation and my body held down by his weight, his hands were free to explore me intimately at his leisure. His fingers traced down my arms, and then my upper chest, feeling the curves of my breasts as far as my top could allow.

“Mmmm. Built to be fucked hard.”

He moved backwards and grabbed the bottom of my shirt, lifting it upwards. Timing his tugs with the movement of my body as I squirmed, he was able to get it up and over my head, careful to hold my sleep mask on as he pulled my top up around my elbows, further restricting me.

“A push-up bra? I should have known, you attention-seeking slut. You like teasing men, don’t you? You like making them want to fuck you.”

This was the first push-up bra I’d ever owned, bought yesterday and worn for the first time today. I liked the idea of pressing up against Austin and giving him the best view I could. I bought it for him.

“No… I’m not like that,” I whispered.

He unclasped the bra at the front and unveiled my breasts. “Yeah right. You wanted to give me all the bait you could. You want this so. Fucking. Bad.”

“I don’t! I’m married…”

My nipples, already hard and tingling, were pinched by rough hands and I gasped in surprised pleasure and pain. He rolled them between finger and thumb as I writhed beneath him.

“That’s not what these say. That’s not what your body says. Looks to me like you’re open for business.”

With one last tug, he let go of my nipples, leaving me to cope with the exciting aftermath of his rough handling. The ache of his pinches faded, and the ache for more attention replaced it.

Over the background rumble of the airplane I heard a zip and, if possible, my nipples hardened even more. A hand sneaked up my skirt and I clamped my thighs together, but it was too late. I was effectively trapping his hand against my panties.