The F King: A Bad Boy Romance (Still a Bad Boy Book 3)

by Ada Scott

  I pulled Ryan close, pressing my breasts against him so I could free my hands. Holding him tight with one arm around his neck, I let the other roam all over the sculpted body.

  He was working like a fine-tuned machine made with the sole purpose of jack-hammering a hard cock into me. With no clothes in the way, I felt those abs, those hard biceps, that ass. Everywhere was a new and exciting playground.

  His muscles flexed and relaxed under my fingertips, and I basked in the unrestrained lust. The concentrated fire between my legs spread its energy throughout my body, making it easier to handle, and I felt myself less on edge.

  My jaw muscles unclenched and I moaned and screamed my pleasure, as if making him aware of just how good it felt to have him fucking me would make him fuck me harder. I threw my legs around him and held on for dear life as he did exactly that.

  Our bodies met over and over, slapping together to the beat of the oldest music made by mankind. I was wrapped so tightly around him that I could feel every bump and vein of his thick cock as he drove it in and out of me. I could sense another orgasm building, hot on the heels of the first one ever given to me by another person.

  Just when I thought my pleasure was going to overflow in another climax, Ryan paused. I growled my frustration and even grabbed at his ass, trying to thrust him in and out of me for a moment.

  He reached under my knees and pulled them over his shoulders again before leaning forward, bending me almost in half, and fucking me at the same frantic pace as before. Every stroke of his cock drove just that little bit deeper inside me in this position, and he used his full length to drive me straight back to the edge of my climax.

  My feet wobbled crazily above us. like the leaves of small trees being shaken by a grizzly bear, and then the world started getting a little cloudy around the edges of my vision. I wasn’t sure if my squeals of delight were getting quieter or the booming of my heart was just getting louder, but either way, I felt the dams burst and pleasure overwhelmed me again.

  Ryan felt my pussy clamp down on his cock even harder, felt my muscles shaking with the effort of dealing with the ecstasy he’d given me, and found a higher gear to shift to, making sure this orgasm was one for the record books. Electric bliss alternately curled and stretched out my toes and nowhere was quivering as much as my thighs.

  As the pleasure peaked and slowly began to diminish, Ryan let my legs fall to his sides. He leaned forward again, directly over me. His hands slipped under my arms, and he grabbed twin fistfuls of my hair on either side of my head.

  “Mmmm, yes,” I thought I heard myself pant.

  “Look at me. Look at me.” He panted.

  I tried to focus on him, regain that eye-lock we’d had earlier, but I was too distracted. My eyes were open, at least, and that seemed to be good enough for Ryan, because he let out a deep wordless growl and forced his cock as deep into me as he could.

  The tip of his hard length was pressed against my cervix when I felt the first powerful jet of sperm unleashed inside me. Ryan’s groans of satisfaction mixed with my own as he pulled out, then slammed his cock all the way inside me again for the next spurt.

  The feel of all that cum so deep in my pussy, hot and so fucking wrong, seemed to prolong the trailing edge of my orgasm, giving the sex-maniac who’d seized control of my mind all the incentive it needed to continue letting Ryan have his way with me. My pleasure only faded away to a dull afterglow at least a minute after Ryan became still.

  The room was silent, except for the sounds of the two of us catching our breath. I could feel every hot puff of air against my neck and shoulder, as the perfect specimen of masculinity rested above me, his cock still rock hard and buried to the hilt in my newly deflowered sex.

  I surprised myself by wrapping my arms and legs around him and turning my head to give him a kiss on the cheek before squeezing him tight. The way the two of us were connected like this, was something magical.

  We were so close that we were almost the same person, in a way. I was supposed to be pretending to be somebody else, but he’d brought parts of me to the surface I wasn’t even sure I had, and knew me in ways nobody else did.

  “You’re incredible,” he whispered.

  I smiled, even though he couldn’t see it from his vantage point, then bit my lip when he started working that crazy voodoo magic again on my skin just behind and below my ear. The next thing I knew, Ryan was slowly thrusting his cock in and out of me again, kissing me hard.

  Was this normal? Didn’t men need a break? How long could I keep up with him for?

  I started moaning again.

  Ryan

  No matter how hard I tried to fight it, I could feel myself drifting up through the layers of consciousness, until my eyes popped open and I squinted at the bright morning light streaming in through my windows. I felt like I’d been in the deepest sleep any man had ever achieved, but only for a few seconds.

  That wasn’t exactly true, though. The night sky had only just begun lightening when Sarina and I had passed out after the longest non-stop sex-marathon I’d ever had and, whatever time it was now, it was at least full daylight.

  That poor girl took everything I could possibly give her and, fuck she had felt good wrapped around my cock. Of course, I’d never had sex that didn’t feel good, but this was something else. This was heaven on Earth, a pussy that imparted so much pleasure it should be worshipped day and night.

  I propped myself up on my elbows and looked towards the other side of the bed, memories of what it felt like to be inside her doing their best to fend off the sleepiness. She wasn’t there. I looked around my apartment and couldn’t spot her anywhere.

  The only sounds came from the distant traffic far below and the general hum of the building. Had she really run away while I was passed out?

  I rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. My muscles ached as I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. Holy shit. Her off-the-scale hotness had driven me crazy, I’d fucked her even after I was running on empty because it felt so good.

  Pleasure like that was a real mind-bender. I almost thought she might have been a hallucination, until I spotted her panties sitting in a crumpled heap on my bookshelf.

  I laughed, imagining her frantic and silent search of my apartment for that last elusive piece of clothing before she had to give up and cut her losses. Even the quiet chuckle made my abs hurt. Wow.

  With a shake of my head, I rose to my feet. The downside of fucking a girl as hot as Sarina was that going back to the usual girls was going to be like a kick in the balls. She was so tight I could still feel the grip of her pussy on my cock.

  Turning to look at my bed, I saw a war zone. The sheets were all messed up, and covered in the aftermath of our fucking, including spots of blood.

  I breathed in, then let my air out slowly with puffed-out cheeks. A virgin. I’d never had one of those before. By all accounts they were supposed to be the worst lays, not the fucking best.

  A virgin. How could a girl that hot be a virgin? It was a damn good question as far as I was concerned, but it did kind of put my mind at ease about another little thing.

  The cops wouldn’t send a girl in to tempt me with her virginity, any more than a virgin girl would offer up her first time for the sake of a police investigation. That was really un-cop-like behavior.

  Not only that, but if she did go to bed to me to earn my trust… why would she bolt in the morning without trying to use her position to her advantage? The cop hypothesis didn’t hold up.

  I laughed again as I headed for the shower, remembering the dopey look on that Cannibal’s face as he got fucked up by a champagne bottle over the head. What got into those guys anyway?

  She was a… unique girl to say the least. I thought about her as the hot water worked on my aches and pains, but was unable to wash away the memory of how hard she made me cum.

  A screamer too. There were times I thought that my neighbors might call the cops because they thought somebody was
getting murdered, she was that loud.

  Maybe, since she was screaming “Yes!” and “Fuck me!” that put everybody within earshot at ease, because there had been no interruptions. I dried myself off and wrapped the towel around me as I headed to the kitchen.

  I was sipping my coffee and waiting for my toast to pop up before I looked at the clock on the microwave.

  “Fuck!”

  Ten past eleven. I slammed my coffee down on the counter and it sloshed over the top. I was already half-dressed by the time my precious caffeine settled back down in the mug.

  The Acardis gave me my own lab to run, with a few assistants who had standing orders to clean the fuck out of everything if I wasn’t there to tell them otherwise. The Acardis didn’t care what hours I worked, as long as I met my quota, but today I had a meeting with Giovanni Acardi. At eleven o’clock.

  I hadn’t slept this late in years. I’d never been late for my monthly meeting before. It was probably going to make things even more tense than they normally were.

  With only one piece of dry toast and my backpack for company, I was out the door and heading down in the elevator in record time. I drummed my fingers on the wall as it descended at what felt like a snail’s pace, as if somebody had hit the slow setting on the fuckin’ thing.

  These meetings shouldn’t have been such ordeals, but Giovanni was a real cocksucker. Hell, the higher up in the family you looked, the bigger an asshole the Acardi tended to be.

  All that should have happened was Giovanni ticking a box in a notebook that my quota was met, as agreed, they pay me my fucking money, and I give them a list of things I need in the next shipment of supplies and equipment. Instead, we did all that, plus Giovanni had to give me a spiel about how great the Acardis were, how lucky I was as a lowly non-Italian to be blessed with working with them, don’t forget my place, what the fuck do I need all this shit for, blah, blah, blah, it was never-ending.

  Out on the street, I hailed a cab and gave the driver the directions. Thank fuck it wasn’t the same cabbie from last night. That would have been awkward.

  It was eleven twenty-nine when I stepped out on to the sidewalk again and craned my neck up at what was officially called the Trafford Tower, but which everybody in the know called the Acardi Building. Construction workers milled around, looking like they were doing nothing in the kind of way that only construction workers could.

  Even with all the rebuilding work going on in the city after the earthquake last year, it was a quick and relatively hassle-free trip. The real ordeal would happen way up there at the top.

  Ryan

  “Do you know who I am?” Giovanni asked.

  “Met you dozens of times, haven’t I?”

  You could almost see the steam coming out of Giovanni’s ears. It was so fucking easy to get these guys pissed off. You didn’t even have to know what buttons to push, just push any fucking button and that would do it.

  “Johnny, do me a favor and hold a gun to this cocksucker’s head.”

  The soldier behind me and to my right stepped up and pressed the barrel against my ear painfully. It was an empty threat, and Giovanni knew that I knew it. And that was pissing him off even more.

  I’d been very careful to keep the intricate details of my manufacturing process to myself. The people working under me were doing very specific tasks, and none of them were involved with too large a chunk of the entire thing.

  Much of it was over the heads of all but the brightest chemists working in the industry at the moment, but I was always careful to look out for new guys who seemed to know a little bit too much about what they were doing. They tended to get mysteriously sick and have to leave.

  The fact was that Alberico Acardi would have Giovanni’s head on a stake if Giovanni had me killed, even if they were cousins. I tried to calculate how much money my product was making for the family, based on how much I used to sell it for. It could very well have been in the billion-dollar range by now.

  All from little old me. They didn’t want that cash cow’s milk to dry up. Still, the gun was hurting my fucking ear, and it was a pain I could do without.

  “OK, you’re Giovanni Acardi.”

  “I snap my fingers and you end up in a dumpster, motherfucker, don’t you forget it. Alberico is too soft on you. If I had my way, you’d be in that lab in chains, not in here smart-mouthing and getting paid a king’s fucking ransom every month.”

  Yeah, Alberico was a real fucking peach. The first time I realized I’d come up on the Acardi’s radar was when six guys jumped me and I was given this deal that honestly confused me as much as it did Giovanni.

  Get paid, great autonomy, run your own lab… or we kill your mother and bury you alive with her corpse for a while until you have a change of heart. I thought Alberico must have been reading some crazy Art of War kind of shit at the time, like I’d be a better chemist for them if I was under the illusion that I was valued.

  I did my best to give them every reason to believe that was true. I developed new products, and never missed my quota, but they screwed the pooch with that initial strong-arm shit. They threatened my fucking mother, and I was going to piss on their corpses because of it.

  Giovanni twitched his head to the side and Johnny put his gun away. I rubbed my ear.

  “Well, long live Alberico,” I said.

  “What gave you the idea you could be late for a meeting with me?” Giovanni asked.

  “Hell of a night.”

  “I don’t care if-”

  “Had some problems with the Cannibals.”

  “What the fuck do you have to do with them?”

  “Ordinarily? Nothing,” I said. “I was hoping you could tell me. I thought you were supplying them, so why would they track me down?”

  “We cut them off. They played their part, they got it out to the people, helped with early distribution and getting the word out, but we don’t need them anymore. They want it, they can pay end-user prices now. What I wanna know is why, for a guy who’s supposed to be so fuckin’ smart, they knew about you at all? So what did you give ‘em?”

  “Nothing. Kicked their asses.”

  “You?” Giovanni laughed, and his puppets around the room chuckled on cue. “Well, whatever, what… actually, you know what? I don’t give a fuck. This blind-eye shit stops now. There is no “spare” product anymore. It ain’t fuckin’ yours. You make it, you don’t distribute it, you piece of shit. I hear about you supplyin’ anything and I’ll force-feed five pounds of the shit down your mother’s throat until she’s fuckin’ fizzin’ from her eyeballs, you hear me?”

  Maybe I had some buttons of my own, because there was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to feel his face pulping under my fists. I could feel this red-hot rage rising, and I gripped the sides of my chair as I fought to keep it down.

  Not now, Ryan. Soon. All of them.

  I had planned on dialing my own personal sales back anyway after my wake-up call last night, but it was a kick in the teeth for it to look like I was complying with Giovanni’s demands with my tail between my legs. He saw that he’d got under my skin, and it was only his smug fucking expression that helped me bring myself under control again.

  “I hear you,” I said through clenched teeth. “But you’re going to have to do something about them, keep them off my back. Here’s what I need for the next delivery.”

  I reached into my pocket and slid the folded piece of paper across his desk. He picked it up and started unfolding it.

  “For fuck sake. We’ll have to send some guys to give them a message. It’s going to cost us, and it’s coming out of your pay. What the fuck do you need all this extra shit for?”

  “Research and development.”

  “Fuck that, we’re not buying all this. Phosphorus? What the fuck is cyclo… cyclohex-”

  “Cyclohexane. Pay me my money and buy what the fuck I have listed there, or tell Alberico that you decided it wasn’t worth my time working on what might be the next F-Pro.�
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  I could see Giovanni mulling over how that conversation would go, given how my new product aimed at the sports market had given them an income boost in direct sales, as well as affecting their sports fixing income. A brain like mine was too good an opportunity for them to waste.

  “Fuck it. Fine. Here.”

  Giovanni pulled a briefcase out from behind his desk and spun it so the latches faced me before sliding it across. I stood and opened it and made a little “Mmmm” of appreciation. This was a sight that would never get old.

  Out of all the crime families in the country, the Acardis were the newest. They were still old as shit, but because they’d started their existence as the most modern of them all, they had a kind of acceptance of new technology and methodology that that the other families were slower to adopt.

  The Acardis focused on a different set of schemes than the others. They were involved with cyber-fraud, and I even heard they had a team devoted to online dating scams, where they not only extorted cash from lonely men and women, but if they hooked a person in any kind of position of power, they blackmailed them too. Politicians, business men and women, you name it.

  This technological slant they had was why I always transferred the cash into my own backpack, and took the money to the lab before I took it anywhere else. I had the equipment there to check it for anything they might do to trace it. So far they hadn’t, but the last thing I wanted was for them to know where my stash was.

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Don’t forget your fuckin’ place again. You’re gettin’ paid more than some of the fuckin’ Italian guys and you’re on thin ice.”

  “Right. Have a fuckin’ nice day, and take care of the Cannibals.”

  I shouldered my backpack and headed to the door, noticing Johnny watching Giovanni for any signal that I should be reprimanded for my less than respectful exit. Apparently no signal came, as I didn’t have a gun shoved in my face again.