Roots of the Wicked

by Keta Kendric

His chiseled jawline and his dark handsomeness was a feast for my eyes. Cleanshaven, dark-haired, and olive-skinned, he was the kind of good-looking that stopped a woman in her tracks, made married women stray, and turned single women into side-pieces.

“Sometimes, all it takes is the right person who is willing to abide by your rules, but one who also has enough strength to show you a different way.”

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

“Come baby, I can’t wait to feel your pussy giving thanks to my dick.”

And Chase didn’t have a regular dick either, his shit was hypnotic.

He could dick-notize a woman with one thrust.

Around Jax, I wasn’t a billionaire businessman, I was a normal guy who could speak freely. I didn’t have to be formal or speak in my acting voice. I was simply a man interested in a woman playing hard to get. A woman who didn’t cower under the weight of my power, and I respected her more for it.

If there was one thing I learned, you weren’t eating pussy right if you didn’t eat everything.