Page 88 of Root

“I want your ass, Jess.”

“And if I say no?”

“Jess?”

“Yes.”

I push into her with my hips, rocking my erection against her cunt, and she moans. “You want it.”

“Fuck you, Rush.”

“Not a no.”

Our gazes catch and she lifts her legs, putting a foot on each shoulder, and of course I take it for what it is. I look down. She’s perfect, beautiful, her cunt open from sex, and I line up with her ass.

Then I push into her.

Slow.

Steady.

Savoring every moment of that tight space, and I love this gift—because it is a gift—of her opening like this, the intimacy of this position.

When I’m all the way in, she shudders, and I feel the flutter of her pussy, a mini orgasm. Jess slides her arms around me. “Fuck me hard, asshole.”

“Sometimes, slow is good.”

I start to take her, not how she wants, but how I do, a slow, steady devouring, the seduction in each thrust that takes me balls deep.

She wants it hard, so it’s too much, too soon. Jess deserves the slow burn. I want that, too.

Reaching to her face, I brush some damp hair from her cheeks and I start to kiss and taste her with each long, slow push.

Jess shudders and moans, her hips beginning to rise.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whisper between kisses. “Smart and fierce and hot and unexpected. Everything about you fascinates me. You make me want to spend forever learning you, forever fucking you.” I start to pick up the pace, just a little. “You make me want to pledge that I’ll cook you box mac and cheese for years to come. You’re perfect, Jess. Utterly perfect. A filthy, depraved sweet piece of perfection.”

“Fuck you,” she whispers, voice all over the place. “Fuck you.”

And she turns to me, kissing me.

I give over to it, the magic of her mouth, her ass, her. I fuck her harder, faster. I stroke her clit, and she screams, coming so fucking hard it sets off my orgasm.

When we both come down, I ease out, and then I tuck her against me. And I hold her. Just hold her.

Whatever fallout that’s going to come my way from this can fucking wait.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, sometime after I took the collar off her. She curled up with me, not saying much.

But now…Shit.

She’s in the house, I know that. I can feel her, seething somewhere. And if I couldn’t feel her seething somewhere, I’d know because every exit’s watched.

I head down to the study where Tony sits.

I always find it odd to see someone other than Nikolai in the chair. He looks up at me from the laptop he has open and half rises.

“He left already?” I ask, waving Tony back down as he goes to offer me the seat.

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