Page 20 of Roots of the Wicked

Chase knew how to scratch every itch, strum every nerve ending, and lick every hot spot. He was giving my pussy an amazing workout, sliding the fat head up and down and against my walls, plunging into me so deep and hard that each stroke ripped the oxygen from my lungs.

“Chase,” the rest of my words were stolen, lost on his deep thrust.

“Is this good enough for you? Am I wasting your time Jax?”

“No! Shit no!” I hissed out between clenched teeth. “Fuck!”

Chase was rich and uppity, but his sex was straight hood.

Every thrust drove his length deep enough to snatch my breath from the inside, but sparked an emotion that was strengthening my connection to him. The burning hunger he’d built in me had turned into a pleasure so strong, he knew he could rip me apart and make me submit to him even when I didn’t want to. I was helping him, shoving back into every long and thick inch of him. He was massive.

He stretched me to the point that pain blew kisses at my pleasure, and I overdosed on the intoxication of both. When he went deeper and lingered there, I realized he was waiting for me to open my eyes and look at him.

He wasn’t tapping into just desire. He was licking at something extra, something I didn’t have a name for. He was also putting some well-worked miles on my pussy, stamping it with his unique seal.

The quaking in my sex intensified and weakened my legs before spreading to other parts of me. A bundle of tension building in my core was about to snap.

“Chase. Fuck! You’re going to make me come!” I heaved loud, struggling for breath.

“Come baby, I can’t wait to feel your pussy giving thanks to my dick.” Like me, he’d lost all control. Every thrust drove me further into the maddening world we resided in. My heart pumped a mixture of lust and fire. My breaths gave off sparks of pleasure, driving me to the brink of insanity.

“Jaaax!”

When I thought my heart would explode, my walls tightened around his dick with such force, he erupted along with me. I shivered against him, screaming his name, and showcasing my remarkable use of profanity in both French and English. His teeth sank deep into the flesh of my shoulder, sending peppery currents into my hypersensitive hot zone below.

Our bodies shivered together as we fought to recapture our composure. An orgasm had never rocked me so hard; an amazing realization, since I was convinced that I alone held the key to the ways of stroking my deepest sexual desires.

When we recovered enough to move, he retracted his perfect teeth from my shoulder and kissed the spot where he’d bitten. A reddish imprint was already forming. We glanced in the mirror at the same time, harboring the same expression.

What the fuck just happened?

Like he sensed my thoughts, one of his brows lifted and his eyes remained on me, unblinking. He backed out of my shuddering heat. The wicked expression I offered while he did caused him to avoid my eyes. He staggered to the nearest stall, flushed the condom, and used a wad of tissue to wipe himself clean before zipping his pants.

Stunned, I stood with my dress hanging at my waist on one side and my hip bare on the other. The dress remained gaped open on my back where he’d left it unzipped. He feasted his eyes on my tattoo, fascinated by it and seemingly forgetting the state of our situation for a moment.

My breathing began to level as I processed what had occurred between us. He visibly swallowed while my eyes bore holes into his through the mirror. Why did it always have to feel so weird afterwards? Now that the dust had settled, my anger had rushed to the surface, more so towards myself for being weak.

Continuing to avoid my eyes, he wet a few of the neatly rolled towels available. Chase had me flowing so good, my juices had dripped down my inner thighs. He proceeded to clean away the mess he had helped create. My chest rose and fell evenly as he wiped me clean. His level of care was unexpected. He was revealing a caring aspect of him that nudged at the irrational knot of anger that had risen up in me.

Once he finished, he started to zip my dress, admiring the view. The material closed around me like a layer of skin.

He slid his hand around my waist and gave a light tug so I would turn to face him. My eyes met his and narrowed. When he moved in for a kiss, I placed two fingers against his lips.

“Don’t you dare kiss me, Chase Randall Taylorson.”

My voice edged on in a low tone. I’d spoken his full name which filled his gaze with curiosity.

He didn’t need to know that he had piqued my interest enough to snoop into his life after meeting him. With his resources, if he hadn’t already, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had sneaked peeks into mine.

“I specifically told you I didn’t like being controlled sexually, yet you proceeded to not heed my words. But, I enjoyed it,” I reluctantly admitted. “I enjoyed it a lot.”

My teeth sank into my lip, and I shook my head, attempting to process our impulsive actions.

“Damn it was good,” I blurted, still having trouble processing what we had just done. “And you better be glad it was.” Without another word, I stepped toward the exit and gripped the knob. Before I turned the lock open, I tossed a threatening glance over my shoulder.

“See you later Chase.”

An angry-faced woman who was doing the pee-pee dance pushed past me after I opened the door, breaking my visual connection with Chase whose face bore the expression—What the fuck did I just do?

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