The F King:A Bad Boy Romance(7)

Ryan hooked his finger between the two cups and slowly pulled. I  instinctively tried to hold my scrap of clothing against myself, but he  kept my arms firmly restrained exactly where he wanted them.

Then it was done. My breasts were exposed to him in the soft light of  his apartment, my nipples hard enough to leave me with no plausible  deniability about how cataclysmically aroused I was.

My half-closed eyes widened nervously as I tried to read his reaction to  what he was seeing. I had nothing to compare it against, no reason to  be confident. Would he still like me? Was there something wrong with me?

"Wow …  you're …  fucking perfect," he breathed.

Ryan slid my bra up my arms to join my shirt, then caressed and squeezed  my breasts, dividing his attention between the two of them until my  nipples were so hard they literally ached. As if sensing my need, he  bent down and took first one sensitive pink tip into his mouth, and then  the other, flicking them with his tongue and massaging gently with his  lips.

He licked and sucked at me with such enthusiasm that I couldn't help but  believe that he meant every word. The ache turned into a kind of heat  that joined the current of energy coursing through my body, fueling a  growing tingly sensation between my legs that was now impossible to  ignore.

After a few minutes, Ryan let go of my shirt and kissed his way down  across my navel. I disentangled my arms and grasped at my breasts,  missing his attention already. My fingers circled my areolas, feeling  them wet with Ryan's saliva, as I watched him move downwards.

Is this really happening? Are you really letting it?

The voice of reason was calling on a crackly long-distance line. I hung  up on it. Although my body wasn't using words, it was talking a lot  louder.

Ryan pulled my legs up until they were draped over his shoulders. Then I  felt his fingertips sliding up the back of my thighs, under my skirt,  until he had a hold of my panties. From his vantage point, he had a  front-row seat to view how wet they were, plastered against my folds by  how excited he'd made me.

The nerves resurfaced. No man had ever seen my breasts before, but my  pussy was an entirely different level of intimacy. What was I supposed  to do?

My body answered the question for me, pushing the backs of my calves  against his shoulders to lift my ass off the bed, so my panties could  slide down freely. I pointed my toes in the air to let him take them  off, before relaxing and letting them flop over his shoulders again.

"You …  are so fucking wet for me. Good girl."

I blushed at the blatant truth, but his praise tempered my  embarrassment. Without my panties there, I could already feel a tiny  trickle of my slippery juices tickling its way downwards.

Ryan's eyes were laser-focused on my virgin slit, but he made no move to  free his cock from his pants. Instead, he turned his head and kissed my  calf, then kissed on the inside of my knee, and slowly worked his way  to his prize along the inside of my thigh.         

     



 

When he got low enough, he had to back off the bed to continue  comfortably. Wrapping his arms around my upper thighs, he pulled my ass  to the edge to make the last few kiss-steps towards my sex.

This was nothing like I'd ever dreamed of as a young girl, having my  first fantasies of what love and sex would be like. Me, an undercover  cop on assignment, him a suspect. It was so fucking bad, but it felt  anything but. It felt like everything was happening just the way it was  supposed to.

Ryan's hot breath puffed out against my wet folds, and my breath caught  in my throat. I couldn't see his expression behind my bunched-up skirt,  but I could feel the excitement in the tremble of his hands, which  hummed at the same frequency as my own body.

His tongue touched lightly against my labia, and I threw my head back  against the bed with a low sigh that bordered on a grunt. I tried to  squirm down to push my pussy against his lips harder, but he had a firm  grip on me and kept me just where he wanted me.

Licking slowly upwards with just the tip of his tongue, he traced first  one side of my entrance and then the other, ending each stroke with a  little flick that made me squeal and curl my toes. His tongue, his lips,  his breath, his hands, everything felt so perfect on my body, my pussy.  There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to cum just the way he  said I would.

I didn't know what to do with my hands as Ryan slowly built up the pace  of his explorations, occasionally dipping into my little honeypot, only  to smear it over my clit and lap up any errant drips. They raced from  clenching the covers, to squeezing my breasts, to being buried in my  hair, a perfect expression of the chaos of bliss building up in my body.

My clit was humming harder with every passing moment, and every passing  stroke of a tongue or caress of lips, when Ryan spread me open with his  fingers on either side of my slit. It felt like that first stretch in  the morning after a solid night's sleep, so good that I barely had any  brainpower left to be suitably embarrassed at this new level of  vulnerability to this man I'd met so recently.

I heard Ryan's breath catch in his throat and my eyes flew open, staring  at the ceiling in fear. There was no doubt in my mind that he'd seen I  was a virgin.

All the strength drained from my body and I felt deflated. For those few  seconds, I wanted to close my legs to hide myself, but I couldn't.

He couldn't see that I was a cop, but I could see the sad truth that  nobody else had wanted me before. I wasn't any kind of prize, not the  kind of girl he would really like.

"I'm sorry … " I began.

Ryan went down on me like his life depended on it, his tongue and lips  moving at a furious pace. Energy surged back into me, making my legs  quiver uncontrollably, and my pleasure finally found a voice, making me  moan so loud that it echoed in the wide open spaces of the studio  apartment.

My juices were flowing freely, but Ryan was keeping up with it all as if  I tasted like the finest wine ever made. His tongue delved deep, as far  as my hymen, spreading my juices over my clit and flicking from side to  side so fast that it was impossible to feel the individual licks.

Something scary and beautiful was about to explode inside me. There was a  constant thrum of pure sexual desire charging from my clit to my belly  and every breath I took made me scream in ecstasy, my head thrashing  from side to side, until my throat clamped shut and my eyes bulged for a  second of calm before the storm.

Kaboom!

I shut my eyes against the burst of light and I reached between my legs,  grasping at Ryan's hair and pulling him against me as hard as I could  before every muscle in my body cramped up with euphoria. From a great  distance, barely audible over the booming of my own heart in my ears, I  heard myself screaming "Yes! Yes! Yes!" over and over again.

The pure pleasure barely contained inside me, and the rough feel of  Ryan's stubble against my inner thighs, were the only things keeping my  mind attached to my body. Why would he need to sell drugs when he could  make a woman feel this good?

One by one, the pleasure-cramps relaxed, leaving me shaking. I opened my  eyes as I flopped back on the bed. Ryan's superhuman tongue slowed down  to the delicate teasing he'd started with, and I was forced into a  full-body twitch every few strokes, as my sensitive post-orgasm labia  jolted me.

Eventually, exhausted and with a sheen of sweat on my forehead, Ryan  moved over me and kissed me more deeply than he had all night. I could  taste the undeniable evidence of my orgasm on his tongue; he had claimed  something from me that no other man had, and he wasn't finished yet.

"I am going to fuck you until you scream my name," he whispered into my  ear, then teased me with a lick and a kiss on that magic spot he'd found  earlier. "You're such a good girl to save that perfect pink pussy for  me."         

     



 





Sarina





Ryan stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a lean and chiseled  torso with several tattoos that his file hadn't noted, because he'd  never been arrested and had a "stock take" done. The light was too dim  to read the ones that appeared to be phrases, but the others swirled  over his body hypnotically, leading the eye on a tour of his  well-defined muscles.

I glanced up to his face and saw him with a hint of a one-sided smile,  watching me drink him in. My legs were still splayed before him, so I  thought there were probably more things to be self-conscious of than  being caught looking at some eye-candy.

Knowing he had me on a string, he slowly and painstakingly pushed his  pants down. My jaw dropped at the same snail-pace, as his concealed  weapon was concealed no longer.

My legs twitched in an effort to protect myself from that throbbing  masculine perfection, but ultimately fell back where they started. I was  mesmerized by the way it promised pleasure and pain at the limits of my  ability to take it, without using any words.