Spencer: Bad Boy MMA Cage Fighter : Bad Boy Fights The Fight Of His Life For His Girl! (An MMA Fight by P.T. Macias (distant reading TXT) 📕

I hate him!

All the money in the world doesn’t take away the cold, ruthless, cheating motherfucker. He doesn’t have a  heart. I’m damn sure he doesn’t have a soul.

Father doesn’t know why I broke my relationship with Roger. I don’t want him to know because I know that he will kill him, or worse, Roger kill Father.

It’s not worth it.

“You don’t get it, asshole. I’m not your woman. I have a man,” I yell, scooting across the room, away from him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing fucking that fucker. I’m going to kill him for touching what’s mine,” Roger smiles, unbuttoning his shirt.

“I would think that you would have some pride and leave me the hell alone! I hate you,” I yell, pushing up from the floor.

“Darling, calm down because I really don’t want to fight with you. No, I want to fuck that sweet pussy,” Roger snarls, pulling his zipper down.

His pants fall, he pushes his boxers down and grabs his hard cock. He strokes, groaning.

I stare at his cock, yeah, I did enjoy fucking him, but it’s not enough.

“Don’t you dare come near me,” I shout, looking around the room for a way to escape.

“Darling, I know that you love riding my cock. You couldn’t get enough. Come here like a good little girl so I can eat your pussy. Come to Daddy,” Roger pants, clutching the root with one hand.

“No,” I yell, shaking my head looking at him stroke his cock.

Roger kicks off his shoes, pants, and boxers. He walks over to me, grabbing my arm and throwing me onto the bed.

“No, no,” I yell, kicking him.

Roger steps back, shouting, covering his cock.

“Bitch, you need to calm down because I know that you do not want me to tie you down,” Roger shouts, grabbing my hair.

He pulls me up by my hair, bitch slapping me.

“Motherfuker! I hate you! Let me go,” I shout.

Sixteen

Spencer

I’m fucking stoked!

I won the fucking championship fight, and that’s a fucking big purse.

I have sponsors, and more fights on Pay Per View offers. I worked hard for this, and I did focus on manifesting.

You can’t tell me that shit doesn’t work.

It does.

I’m set.

Now I’m going for Diorzella to work off this high, sink into her warm pussy, losing myself in her before dinner.

She’s my Princess, my everything.

She owns my heart, my soul.

I’m going to ask her to marry me soon. I know it’s quick, but I feel her.

I get her.

She’s mine.

We’re going to dinner to celebrate, yeah, the family will be with us, but hey, at least they like me.

Then later, I have plans to love her all fucking night. It’s been days since I’ve fucked my sweet pussy.

I walk down the long hallway to the room. I pull out the key that she gave me, and I hear Dior yelling.

What the fuck!

I open the door, and I see that Roger asshole naked trying to fuck my Dior.

“Motherfucker! Let her go,” I shout, running across the room.

Yeah, I’m holding back. I’m going to kill the motherfucker!

I swing my arm back, I jab him in the face, knocking him out.

Yeah, motherfucker can’t handle me.

I look at the bastard on the floor naked. It pushes my blood pressure higher when I see that he wanted to fuck my Dior.

I turn to look at her and thank god she’s dressed.

Dior runs to me, wrapping her arms around me, crying into my chest.

“Princess Baby, are you okay,” I crock, my voice is raspy.

“No, yes. Spency, I was so scared. Roger wanted to fuck me and take me,” Dior wails, shaking.

I hold her close, resting my face on her head, rubbing her back.

“It’s over, Princess. I’m going to tie him up, and we should call your Father to take care of him,” I say, closing my eyes.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Dior says, nodding. She pulls away, looks for her cell.

She swipes her fingers over the screen texting her Father while I tie the motherfucker up.

I know that Ford will take care of this.

Seventeen

Spencer

“Princess, are you up to having dinner with the family and team,” I ask, moving my fingers to her chin, lifting her face.

I gaze into her eyes, making sure that she’s okay.

“Yes, I am. That bastard didn’t touch me. You got here in time,” Dior says, nodding.

There’s a knock on the door; I release Dior, walking over the asshole to open the door.

“Hey,” I say, looking at William and a guard.

“Where’s that motherfucker,” William growls, walking into the room. The guard follows him, and two others stand at the door as guards.

I run my fingers through my hair, furrowing my forehead.

Fuck!

Is this going to be happening all the time? Will we be able to live a normal life?

“William, take him out of here! Lock him up, do something with him,” Dior yells, fisting her hands.

I look at Dior yelling at William, and yeah, I know that she’s a Diorzella.

I sigh, closing my eyes.

I got her.

I open my eyes, watching the goon dress that motherfucker.

“How are you getting him out of here,” I ask, wondering about the security.

“We have it handled. We’ll see you at the dinner,” William says, nodding.

“Right,” I say, nodding.

I walk behind them to make sure that I lock the door.

I turn to look at my Diorzella.

“Princess, we have some time to kill until we have dinner,” I say, smiling.

“Oh yeah, I like that. I have a few ideas,” Dior says, nodding.

“Great,” I say, pulling her into my arms.