And now, his mouth on my tits and my own fingers circling my clit with quick, sure movements, I was right there again. What was it about Roth that affected me so powerfully? His voice? His dirty talk? His confidence? I wasn’t sure, but there was something about him that just pushed me to boiling point.

I was teetering on the cusp of orgasm, lost to sensation, my fingers touching myself in the way only you can touch yourself, knowing your own hot spots, knowing the perfect speed and perfect rhythm. His lips were wrapped around my right nipple, and I felt a line of heat connecting my tits to my core, and as my fingers moved and his mouth suckled, that line was being tugged, jerking yet another orgasm from me.

I exploded with a shriek, hips rocking, back arched as far as my spine would allow.

There was no warning. He slammed his mouth against mine, tongue sliding between my lips still open in shock, his palm huge against my cheek. I buried my fingers in his hair and kissed him back, exhausted and wrung out and shaking all over, giddy, delirious, and dizzy.

“Roth…holy shit, Roth.”

“You need a break, don’t you, beautiful?” His voice buzzed against my mouth.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “I’ve never come so hard, so fast, or so many times in all my life.”

He laughed, a low rumble of amused and erotic promise. “Oh, Kyrie. I’ve just gotten started. I’m not giving you a break. Oh, no. Now it’s time to dial it up a few notches, I think.”

“Wh—what do you mean?”

I felt him move somehow, but I couldn’t determine what he was doing. And then…I heard a telltale buzzing. A vibrator? He was going to use a vibrator on me?

“You tensed, Kyrie. Relax. Trust me.”


“Roth, I really don’t think I can—” I started to protest, but I felt something soft and rubbery vibrating against my inner thigh, and I forgot what I was saying.

I could. I realized it in a split second. I could come again, and if he used that on me, I would. I was tensed, thighs closed, mouth open, back arched, shoulders back, fists clutched in his shirt.

“You can, Kyrie. You will. Just relax.” I let out a long breath and relaxed the tension in my muscles. He moved the vibrator against my opening, a slow, teasing drag between my labia. “Good. Just breathe. Just feel. I’ll go slow.”

I felt him press the tip between my lips, wiggle it slightly, and then pull it out. It slid up my cleft, down, and back up, pushing deeper with each stroke. He had it on a low setting, and it was just barely vibrating. I spread my legs apart, giving him access, giving myself over to letting him have his way with me. This was a game now; how many times could he make me come?

I gasped as he pushed the buzzing tip inside me and then slid it out, coating it in my essence, making it slick so the next time he moved it between my folds, it moved easily and smoothly, filling me. I felt an “mmmmmmmmm” of need escape my lips, and then the tempo of vibration increased, once, twice, a third time, and then it was humming madly, setting my entire body on fire, and he was sliding it in and out of me, and I realized the vibrator had a smaller, secondary tip angled to bump against my clit as he slid the entire thing into me.

He moved it slowly, drawing it out, pausing, and sliding it in gently. Not fast enough. Not hard enough. I needed more. I took the vibrator from him and moved it the way I needed, harder, faster, deeper.

“That’s it, Kyrie. Just like that. Take it. Make yourself come again. You’re so beautiful, Kyrie, and never more so than when you’re coming apart for me.” He whispered in my ear, caressing my skin, tweaking my ni**les. “And now you’re going to come again, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, shit…I am….” I was barely able to get words out, to make sense, going frantic with need as I felt another climax building inside me. “I’m gonna come again….”

“Not until I tell you to, Kyrie. Don’t come yet.”

“I thought—”

“Slow down, Kyrie. Not yet.” I tried to obey, but I couldn’t. I needed to come. The need was huge and fiery and sharp inside me, a frantic pressure. “Bend your knees. Pull your heels up against your ass and let your knees fall apart.”

I did as he told me, drawing my heels up so they pressed against my butt cheeks, and then let my knees fall apart. I was spread open for him, and I was still working the vibrator, albeit as slowly as I could, frustrated and unsure what he wanted, what he had planned.

As soon as his fingers brushed my thigh and slid down to cup my ass, I knew what he was going to do.

“No,” I gasped. “Don’t, Roth.”

His hands, clutching my ass, froze. “No? You really don’t want me to touch you there? I won’t, if you say no again.”

Did I? Did I dare let him? I deliberated, trying to come up with reasons why not. I was still afraid of his power over me; I was afraid of how much I had let him do to me, when I didn’t know him, had never even laid eyes on him, didn’t even know his f**king name. I didn’t know his f**king name, yet I’d let him eat me out and let him finger me, in public, in a box at the goddamned Met. He’d given me commands, and I’d obeyed.

While I was thinking, he slid his finger up the crease of my ass, a teasing touch. I was hovering on the verge of climax, moving the vibrator in torturously slow motion, sliding it in and out in increments and centimeters, drawing it out, feeling the driving, maddening need to finish, to come, and all the while he was teasing me, sliding one thick, long finger along my ass.

“If you don’t say no, then it’s going to happen, Kyrie.” He pressed his lips to my ear, and I felt the heat and presence of his body over mine, felt his shirt against my skin, his pants brushing my legs. “You’ve got ten seconds to decide, Kyrie. In ten seconds, I’m going to slide my finger between the cheeks of your tight round ass and I’m going put my finger in your ass**le, and you’re going to come so hard you’ll cry. You want it, don’t you? I can feel it. You do. You’re a dirty girl, a bad girl, and you want this. Deny it, Kyrie. Tell me no. Tell me you don’t want it, and I won’t do it.”

He went silent, and I knew this was my chance, my one chance to demur. No. Two letters, a single syllable, a single breath. Easy to say, so easy. Yet it didn’t come out.

Because…fuck it. I did want it. I wanted anything he could do to me. Everything he’d done so far had been…incredible. So why not this?