His muscles bulged hard, his strides stiff and controlled. “I’m taking you back to our room, one that you’ll be safe in.” She snuggled against him, into his body. “Whatever you say.” Carrying her up the winding staircase, he noticed her discomfort, how she wriggled. “What’s wrong?” “My clit, shit, Rune, it’s crying out loud for an audience with the President.” His smidgeon of a smile passed over her. Until he placed her on the bed and Rune discovered the material slashed on her thigh. “What the fuck? How did this happen?” “What?” Her body and thoughts fixed on her horny fanny and the instrument of seductive torture that clung to her clit. She gave a satisfied smile when he tugged her cat suit off. At last she would get relief. Jess blinked in shock at the blood dripping down her thigh. A splinter of glass wedged in her broken skin, it glinted in the play of light. She recalled a sharp stab of pain, one that she had forgotten. Instead, she’d channelled her fury into the evil bitch.
