Page 70 of Root

Pure, depraved divinity.

“You’re disgusting.” She wiggles, writhes, tits bouncing even more, all those tattoos alive and the fading stitches just add to her delicate bad girl vibe.

I have no idea where delicate just came from. I’d love to say her ink, but that’s more a personification of the hidden parts of her, both the beauty and the danger. No, I think it’s because I know she’s up to something and I don’t think she wants to be.

All her questions, those tits with the hard nipples—I mean her probing me on little things about the estate are hesitant, holding the tiny sparks of soft underbelly, that tell me there’s delicate in there.

And I want to pound it into submission.

Fuck, for her, I’d get down on my knees and let her direct me.

But not this time.

“Yeah?” I say, running fingers lightly over my cock. Her eyes hungry on the motion, it’s a little torture show for both of us because I’m already beyond aroused. I stroke again. “But you’re the one who seems to fucking get off on disgusting.”

“Not with you.”

“So the orgasms? Fake?”

“Because I was in command.”

“Let’s try it this way. I’ll give you to ten to run and get out of the belt. If not…”

Her eyes flash and I swear to fucking god even that short punky, pixie red hair sparks. “Start counting.”

“I already have.”

She turns, runs, stops at the door, realizing she’s almost naked, but then she gives me the hottest fuck you look ever, and dashes out into the sun.

Shit.

I take off after her, and she’s fucking fit, fucking fast, fucking hot prey.

Jess almost reaches a copse of trees. God only knows who’s out here, not in the grounds but on the edges, watching. Hopefully, they’re doing their fucking jobs and looking outward, not in.

Not that I care.

Do I care?

I didn’t used to care if anyone saw me fuck. Sometimes it’s way hotter that way, drilling into a willing pussy or mouth or even ass and someone’s there, catching a whole lotta eye candy and wet dreams.

But I don’t think I want anyone looking at those magnificent breasts, or her wet patch that shows off her other goods by turning the panties not only into a camel toe adventure but a viewing experience of the delights beneath.

I speed up and lunge, catching the belt, and she almost hits the grass, face first. My other arm that grabs her waist and stops her.

Jess grunts and she’s warm, lithe, and my fingers touch the spidery silk of the stitches.

I lift her up and sling her over my shoulder where she tries to get free.

“Forget it, Jessie, I’m not letting you down, not even if you rip your stitches.”

“Creep.”

“Pervert. You get off on it. I bet you fucking love blood play.”

She makes a small sound as she twists and sinks her teeth into the side of my neck.

My cock twitches, hard.

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