The F King:A Bad Boy Romance(40)

My mind was racing with thoughts running too fast to properly  comprehend. I was on a bed. With a man. And he said he was going to fuck  me until I screamed.         

     



 

That combination of facts had my heart thundering in my ears. I tried to  tell myself that it was my wedding night, but the answer always came  back, yeah, but it's fake.

If I'd been willing to give up my chance at escaping my past, I could  have put a stop to this. I could have given back the money, lost my job,  dropped out of college, and gone home.

The terror, playing a cruel game of tug-o-war with lust in my mind, was  telling me maybe that would have been a better idea. Yet, Austin's  washboard abs were right in front of me now, and I seemed to have to  drag my eyes up across an endless expanse of masculine perfection before  I was looking at his face again, fueling the lust side of the battle.

I'd let my hair down figuratively and literally during the wedding  reception, and Austin reached down to take a firm fistful of it at the  back of my head. He gave me a short, sharp, shake before stroking my  cheek and pushing one finger into my mouth, using the tip to draw a  little circle on my tongue.

"You are mine. In this bed, in any bed, you do exactly what I say."

There was no question, no review of my understanding, just his  unbendable will and a few statements of fact. My libido was kicking the  hell out of its little cage, telling me to suck that finger like a hard  dick and then lean forward and lick those abs, wanting me to give the  very core of my being to the bad boy of MMA.

All this pure, unapologetic, man in front of me, I wanted it all. I couldn't possibly handle it, but I wanted it all.

My skin was tingling in chaotic excitement. Every shift of the bed under  me, every movement of my wedding dress, and most importantly the pull  of my hair against my scalp and the shallow penetration of his finger in  my hot wet mouth, sparked electric shivers that bounced around and fed  off one another.

With my panties still halfway down my thighs, there was nothing at all  stopping an errant trickle of my slippery juices from tormenting me. I  could feel a single droplet slowly making the short journey downwards.  With Austin straddling me and the wedding dress in the way, there was no  escape from it, from him, from the tiny torturous pleasures.

I breathed in excited little pants around his finger, and pushed my  thighs together as much as possible, desperate to scratch that itch.  Looking up, I could see Austin watching me, drinking my inexperienced  sexual desperation up like the elixir of youth.

He took his finger from my mouth and reached for my arm, pulling it  until he could grasp my wrist again, taking control of what I touched as  he had in the dressing room. This time though, instead of a tour of  impeccable muscular structure, he placed my hand on his inner thigh

With a start, I tried to yank it back as if I'd been bitten, but Austin  wouldn't let me. Under my palm, then in my hand as he made my fingers  curl around it, was his most intimidating muscle yet.

I let out a slow, shuddering, breath, and I swore the muscles in my  pussy fluttered. He made my hand stroke up and down so I could feel its  slowly increasing size and the hint of the ridge near the tip.

"Good girl."

When Austin gave me that simple praise, I felt a surge of relief that  competed with my excitement for a few seconds. To be in a situation like  this, to become a …  sexual being, for the first time. To not only avoid  the terror and shame I was used to my whole life, but to have a man like  Austin appreciate that side of me, was nothing short of magical.

My brow furrowed. There it was again. My pussy muscles fluttered, then  once more. One by one, my other muscles clenched as that notion of an  itch being scratched grew and grew until it was beyond any comparison.

A flush rose on my chest, up my neck, and made my cheeks warm with the  rush of blood. I heard myself moaning and whimpering, louder with each  hitched breath, before all sounds were drowned out by the thundering of  my heart in my ears.

In a panic, I realized I was having a full-on orgasm without having even  been touched. I tried to part my legs, to stop any stimulation of my  clit, but it was too late. A lifetime of sexual repression burst the dam  and I came right in front of my new husband.

I tried to snatch my hand back, but Austin held it firm and his manhood  only swelled quicker, forcing my premature climax to even greater  heights. I covered my face with my free hand, using it as the most  ineffective hiding place in the world, as vocal bursts of pure pleasure  squeezed out from between clenched teeth.

Pulses of humming ecstasy radiated from my clit, making my toes curl  until I thought I was going to get cramps in my feet, and leaving me  with quivering legs as it faded away.

A cold chill went down my spine as I comprehended what had just  happened. Austin was used to pin-up girls, models, his pick of the  groupies. Girls who were good at sex.         

     



 

What would he think of me now? I knew he saw my purity ring before but  did he, in his wildest dreams, realize just how inexperienced I was?

So much for ‘the sexual being' I'd labelled myself only a few minutes  before. When I raised my eyes to look at him, he'd be disappointed, I  was sure of it.

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered. That didn't seem to cut it.

"What? That is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. You fuckin' worship that cock, little girl."

If he was lying, he was good at it. My embarrassment gave way to a fresh  uprising of hope and anticipation as I basked in the glow of Austin's  undiminished sexual hunger.

He twisted his grip on my hair, making me suck a breath in through my  teeth, when a jolt of excitement in my chest flashed in response to the  sting on my scalp. Austin was seemingly in charge of my every movement,  in this case tilting my ear up to him.

"Time for you to show me that sweet little pussy you thought you were saving for somebody else," he whispered harshly.

Under my hand I could still feel the object of my worship, harder than  ever, trapped down his pants leg as it strained against the material. He  shuffled backwards and I thought he was going to free it from its  prison, but instead he kept going until he was off the bed.

Austin grabbed my ankles and unceremoniously dragged me towards him  until my ass was on the edge of the bed, with him between my legs. I  propped myself up on my elbows, feeling my legs shaking from the  vulnerability of my position, as well as the trailing edges of my  orgasm.

My husband may have been fake, but there was no denying the reality of  my arousal, as he reached up under my dress and continued what he'd  started in the car when he pulled my panties down. He took his time, but  there was a fire burning in his eyes that hinted at a raw passion held  in check by sheer force of willpower.

I had to point my toes in the air so he could take my underwear off  completely. He cast them aside, just one more pair of panties he'd  melted in his life. He caught my legs and draped them over his  shoulders.

With slow inevitability, he pushed my dress up, exposing inch after inch  of my upper legs to his eyes. I watched his face for the moment, the  moment, when a man saw my completely inexperienced, but eager, sex for  the first time.

Would he compare it against others he'd seen? Would he like the  Brazilian that the beautician had given me, after insisting that it was  part of the standard bridal package? A million questions and doubts  raced through my mind.

Austin was moving torturously slowly, and I was hyper-aware of every  breath I was taking, my chest rising and falling and my heart beating  hard within it. Austin's eyes narrowed and he licked his lips before the  corner curled up in that one-sided smile, the one he wore so often when  he had me at his mercy.

"You were born to take my cock, Skylar. What a fucking perfect little pink pussy."

What was happening seemed beyond impossible. I was exposed like never  before to a man, my desire blatantly displayed through my orgasmic  reaction, and the sopping wet mess he'd made of my pussy without having  even touched it yet.

I was under his control, and he wanted me. More than that, I wanted him  too, and for the first time in my life, that was just fine.

I bit my lip and squirmed pleasurably as he lifted one leg so he could  plant a kiss on my calf, then started pecking his way upwards. When he  reached the back of my knee, I moaned in surprised pleasure and  collapsed back on the bed, running my hands through my hair and over my  breasts.

Austin responded instantly, lingering there, holding me in place with a  hand on my lower navel and all that muscle and strength, tempered by  countless hours of training in the gym and combat in the ring. Every  lick of his tongue, suck of his lips and prickle of his stubble was  lightly mirrored by some confusion of nerves along my outer labia.

Involuntarily, I bucked my hips as much as he let me, unconsciously  seeking out the source of that stimulation, trying to grind myself  against something that wasn't even there. I was being tormented by  pleasure and, slowly, I reached towards my sex.